I sat there in the almost pitch dark room. Almost pitch dark, because there was a bit of a glow from the little light on the computer monitor signifying that it was in sleep mode. I sat there with a headful of thoughts that I wished I didn’t have. The door opened, admitting a shaft of light, and my wife came into the room.

“What are you doing in here? I’ve been upstairs in bed waiting for you for over half an hour.”

“Practicing.”

“Practicing what?”

“Being alone.”

“Shit! Another one of your goddamned moody periods” she exclaimed in disgust, and then left the room closing the door behind her and letting the darkness back in.

Moody periods?

To me they were periods of reflection. I sat there in the dark and reflected on my life and the situations and events that made me the person that I was that day.

I, Robert Gaines Holbrook, was born thirty-one years ago to Herbert and Millicent Holbrook. I came into the world a healthy eight pounds and seven ounces and I would like to think I had a normal childhood, but I don’t know because I have no memories of those early years. The memories I do have are from around the third grade, so I was seven or eight at the time. Those memories were not good ones.

It was around that time that the other kids were calling me ‘four eyes’ because I had to wear glasses and ‘fatso’ because I was overweight for my age. I got into fights at school because I wouldn’t put up with it. I usually started the fight when someone said something like that and laughed at me. It was;

“You better take that back.”

“Won’t do it.”

“You better take that back.”

“Fuck you four eyes,” and the fight was on.

I’d get sent home from school and my parents would have to go in and see the principal. My father would just sit there while my mother ripped the school and the teachers for not putting a stop to things.

“He can’t help it that he has to wear glasses, and your letting the other kids insult him is what causes the problem. Instead of getting on Bobby for sticking up for himself, you need to do something about shutting the mouths of those who start things in the first place.”

Looking back on it, Mother didn’t do me any favors by taking that tone with the school. She more or less told me that I was in the right, so the only thing that changed was that I went after my tormenters off of school property. Instead of sitting me down and giving me the old “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but names can never hurt you” talk, she left me with the idea that I was supposed to fight back. In the end, I did learn that going after my tormentors was a losing proposition. When bigger and older kids did it and I went after them I got my ass handed to me. It only took a couple of times before I learned.

The point of this long diatribe isn’t about my combativeness as a kid. It goes back to the meetings were my mother was an attack dog and my father just sat there. That is what started me down the road I’ve travelled.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was a very significant event. As I grew older, I began to notice things and it eventually became clear to me that my mother ran things at our house, and I do mean ran things. She made all of the decisions, where to go, how much to spend and on what. She told my father what to do, what he couldn’t do, what to wear and she even bought his clothes for him. His duties were to go to work, give mother his paycheck and say “Yes dear, of course dear, whatever you want dear” and do exactly what he was told.

My father was a wimp! He had no backbone when it came to my mother.

I eventually found out that it was only when it came my mother. There was one time when I was around fourteen that I was with him when we went to the mall. We had just gotten out of our car when we saw a man slapping his daughter. Not spanking, but actually slapping her face and calling her a bitch. He was just getting ready to hit the girl again when my father grabbed his hand, jerked him away from the girl and told the man to leave her alone.

The man told my father to butt out and mind his own business. My father said that it was his business to step in when a child was being abused, and then he said, “Go and pick on someone your own size.”

“Like you maybe?” the man said and swung at my father. My father blocked the punch and then proceeded to beat the living dog shit out of the man, leaving him crying on the ground. The event was significant in two ways. The first was when the man was on the ground I finally took a look at the girl and realized that I knew her from school. Her name was Pauline Langdon. I’d noticed her, but had never spoken to her because she was a year behind me. I had noticed her because she was a sexy looking girl and I was at the age where my hormones were running wild.

The other significant thing that came out of the affair was that I no longer referred to my old man as “Father.” He was now “Dad,” and he was no longer a wimp in my eyes. He still was where mother was concerned, and that fact had a long lasting effect on me. It built a mindset in my head that I wasn’t even aware of until a few years down the road.

I had just turned eighteen when I found out how much of a wimp he really was when it came to my mother, and a few things about myself also. There was a gas leak at school one day and everyone was sent home around ten. I decided to sneak into the house so mother wouldn’t know I was there. If she knew I was home, she would find some chore or other for me to do. I figured if I was really quiet I could get in the front door, up the stairs to my room and she’d never even know I was there.

The plan worked fine. I was up the stairs and had my hand on the doorknob of my bedroom door when I heard a loud, “Oh fuck! That hurts so fucking good.”

It was my mother’s voice.

“God, but I do love your tight ass.”

It wasn’t my dad’s voice.

Being a naturally curious teenager, I quietly moved down the hall and peeked into the open door. The man was Mr. Nelson our next-door neighbor and he was fucking my mother in her ass. I don’t think I will ever get that sight out of my mind.

She was wearing high heels, nylons and a garter belt. She was on her hands and knees and her tits were swinging back and forth as she was pounded. I wanted to take my dick out and start pounding it while I watched. They were facing away from me, but I was afraid I would get caught so I quickly moved back to my room, dropped my drawers and got with the program. After I made my mess, I cracked open the door, put an ear to it and listened to the two of them go at it.

“Fuck me damn it! Fuck me.”

“I could go again if you put that hot mouth to work.”

“Harder, do it harder.”

“Your ass slut! I want your tight ass again.”

The sounds, the grunts, screams and moans got me hard again, and just about the time I spewed the doorbell rang. I heard my mother say, “That must be Tim. I’ll go let him in.” I closed my door, and heard her go downstairs and answer the door. I cracked the door and I heard her say, “About time you got here.”

A man’s voice, which I recognized as Mr. Tonders from across the street said, “Enough left for me?”

Mother laughed and said, “It will take more than the two of you to wear me out.”

“I can set you up with a gangbang if you want.”

“Do it. I haven’t had one in almost three weeks.”

“A bunch of guys I work with have a poker party every other week. There would be six of us.”

“Set it up.”

“Next one is this Friday and it’s at my place. Can you get out?”

“No problem. I’ll tell Herb I’m going to an Avon party.”

“How in the hell do you get away with fucking around on Herb as much as you do?”

“It’s easy. He knows, but he also knows better than to try and do anything about it.”

“Shit! He knows about me, Will and Chuck?”

“No, he doesn’t know who, and I’ll never tell him. Now come on; I need my pussy filled.”

I closed the door as they came up the steps, and once they were back in mother’s bedroom I cracked it open again, and again listened and stroked myself. There was a lot of ‘fuck this’ and ‘suck that’ and a bunch of ‘fasters’ and ‘harders’, and then I pushed my luck. I should have stayed in my room and been happy that I’d seen as much as I had without getting caught, but when I heard mother say “I want one of you in my ass and one of you in my pussy,” I just had to see it.

Should have been no problem, right? I’d already done it and knew that I just needed to be quiet. They would be facing away from me and I would get a quick look and then get back to my room. I crept down the hall, peeked around the doorjamb and looked straight into my mother’s eyes.

She was on the bed in what I have since learned is the doggie position. Mr. Nelson was under her, Mr. Tonder was behind her on his knees and Mother was rocking back and forth. I stood there frozen. Mother looked me right in the eye and said, “Fuck my ass; fuck my pussy. Fuck me hard.” Her gaze never wavered as she said it, and it was almost if she was telling ME to do it. Or, daring me to try and stop her. I suddenly realized where I was, and I turned and ran back to my room and waited for the storm.

It didn’t happen.

There was no “Got to quit, boys. I need to run and do some damage control.” No “Oh shit! Get off me. I’ve got to get to Bobby before he does something stupid like call his father.”

Nope. None of that.

The trio stayed at it for another hour before the men finally left. Mother opened the door and walked into the room, still in her heels, nylons and garter belt, and in an angry voice she said:

“You WILL NOT tell anyone about what you just saw! Do you understand me, young man? You will NOT ever speak of it! Do you hear me?”

I was terrified and I nodded my head yes, but scared to death or not, the sight of my angry mother standing in front of me naked except for heels, hose and garter belt, and with cum from her pussy or ass running down her legs caused a reaction. My fly was open and my dick was out of my underwear fly and had just been hanging there limp inside the open fly of my jeans. My dick became erect and it rose out of my fly, and stood there stiff as Mother sneered and snarled:

“Don’t even think it, you disgusting little pervert. I’m your mother!”

If I’d been a little more knowledgeable, a little more sure of myself, I might have said something like “You’re not my mother; you are the neighborhood whore,” or maybe, “If you don’t want me telling Dad and naming names, you need to get out of my room and leave me the fuck alone!” I suppose I could even have said, “On your knees bitch! If you don’t want Dad to find out how you spend your days you had better give me the best blow job you can.”

I didn’t say any of those things; I just said, “Yes ma’am,” and hoped she would go away. She stood there looking at me for another fifteen or twenty seconds, and then she turned and left. As soon as the door was closed, I grabbed my dick and beat off again.

About a half hour later she came back into my room without knocking (trying to catch me whacking off probably, so she could call me a pervert again), but luckily, by then I’d put my dick away. She had on a short housecoat and still had the heels and hose on, and I could see a spot of what I suspected was dried cum on the inside of her right knee. I went instantly hard again. She noticed and just shook her head, probably in disgust, and then asked, “Just why are you home from school?”

I told her about the gas leak, and then she pointed at the dick pushing up and trying to get out and said, “Get rid of that before you come to dinner,” and she left.

Dinner was no different than any other evening. Mother acted as she always did and there were no nasty looks thrown my way. She showed absolutely no signs of worry that I might tell Dad about what I’d walked in on, but then, why should she? She ran our house and whatever she said would be the way things were. She told me that I would not tell about what I’d seen. She had spoken. Case closed. Right?

Later that night I found out that Mother hadn’t lied when she told Mr. Tonder that Dad knew she fucked around on him. Normally, I went to bed an hour or so earlier than my parents and was usually asleep when they went to bed, but that night I was still keyed up because of the day’s happenings and I was still awake when they came up to go to bed. Okay, I was still awake and jacking off to the picture of my naked mother that was burned into my brain.

I heard them come up the stairs and I heard Mother say, “I hope you have been taking your vitamins; you’re going to need the strength if you want to keep up with me tonight.”

“You know I always do my best.”

To me it sounded like they were going to have sex, so I cracked the door to hear better and just as I did it I heard Dad say:

“Damn it Millie! Not again? It is bad enough that you do it on our bed, but couldn’t you have at least cleaned up the room when you finished?”

“Why? I’d just have to clean it up again when you and I finish.”

“If nothing else it would show a little respect for my feelings.”

In a sarcastic tone Mother said “What would you rather have, Herbert; respect or some of this pussy? Now get your ass over here and eat my pussy.”

Then Dad, in a whiney voice, said, “You know I don’t like to do that after somebody else has been there.”

“Don’t be such a baby. I washed it when I was done. Now get over here and get busy or look forward to a month of not even seeing it, let alone touching it.”

A minute or so later I heard, “Oh yes, right there, just like that,” and I closed the door, got in bed, pulled the pillow over my head and tried to go to sleep. The key word there was ‘tried’. I couldn’t get the pictures of my mother and what she had been doing that afternoon out of my mind. I remembered her eyes looking into mine as she urged Mr. Tonder to fuck her ass and fuck her hard, and my dick got stiff again.

Between the time I had gotten home from school the day before and my getting up the next morning, I had abused myself so many times I didn’t think that I would ever be able to get another hard on. That thought didn’t survive any longer than it took me to go downstairs and into the kitchen for breakfast. Dad was just going out the door on his way to work and we exchanged good mornings and have a nice days, and then the door closed behind him.

Mother said, “It’s hot in here,” and she shrugged out of her bathrobe and it settled to the floor. Then she made my breakfast in the nude as that thing between my legs (you know, the thing I thought would never get hard again) throbbed and tried to break through my jeans. Don’t think for one minute that my mother didn’t know it.

I tried not to look at her as she scrambled my eggs, but it was impossible to keep my eyes away from her. She set my breakfast down in front of me, took the chair across from me, and then as she sipped her coffee she asked me how school was coming along and how things were going with Pauline. It was the same type of conversation we’d had over breakfast for as far back as I could remember, only this time she was doing it NAKED!

I was trying to eat my breakfast while talking to her and trying to avoid looking at her (what I found out later were) 36D tits. Her nipples were a half an inch long and as stiff looking as pencil erasers, and I didn’t know if that was their natural state or if she was turned on by the situation. Then she changed the tone of the conversation.

“Which do you like better? The way I am now or with garter belt, hose and heels?”

I was too shocked to answer. I just sat there and stared at her.

“Oh come on, Bobby; not all that hard of a question.”

She got up, walked around the table to stand beside me and then reached down and rubbed the obvious bulge in my pants. She giggled and said, “At least I know you like the way I look now.” She took her hand off it and said, “Take it out.”

“Wh ... wh ... what?”

“Take it out. Show me your stiffie.”

I just sat there and stared at her open mouthed. She made a face and said in a tone of disgust, “Honestly, Robert, you are making me think I have a retard for a son.”

She knelt down next to me, opened my fly, reached in and worked my stiff cock out. She looked at it, stroked it a couple of times while saying, “Not bad; not bad at all. Have you fucked Pauline yet?”

I just sat there frozen in place and just too stunned (and scared) to say a word.

“Jessica (Pauline’s mother) is pretty sure you have, but Pauline won’t say.”

She saw the look on my face and said “Oh yes, baby, I’ve talked to her. Want to know the last time I talked to her? It was at a gangbang three weeks ago. There was Jessica, Pauline, me and nine guys. Little Pauline sure does love to fuck.”

All the while she was talking she was stroking me, but I wasn’t anywhere near getting off. Not with as many times as I had pounded it since getting home from school the day before. The news that my girlfriend and her mother did gangbangs with my mother did not cause my dick to go limp. It made it even harder.

Then Mother shocked and surprised me even more. She let go of my dick, stood up, swung her leg over me, grabbed my dick again and guided it into her as she sat down on my lap. She started moving up and down and fucking me. I finally got my wits back and tried to push her off me, and she gave me a slap on the side of my head and said:

“Stop that!”

“Get off me! You need to get off me. What if Dad comes back for something he forgot?”

“I’ll just tell him he will have to wait his turn, and he will. He knows what’s good for him.” Then she laughed and said, “If I tell him to suck your jizz out of me, he will.”

After hearing them the night before I didn’t doubt it, but finding me with my dick in my mother would change our relationship, and not necessarily for the better, so I tried another track.

“You need to get off me or I’ll be late for school.”

“You aren’t going to school today. I called and they are still working on the problem. You are in for a long day, Bobby, but I promise that it will be an enjoyable one.”

I would like to be able to say I finally got my act together, pushed Mother off of me and then ran from the house, but I can’t. If I told you that I did, you wouldn’t believe it anyway. I had my dick in a hot pussy and there is no goddamned way in hell that a virgin was going to do that.

Yes, that’s right. Bobby was a virgin. No matter what Pauline’s mother thought, I was not fucking Pauline. Not that I hadn’t tried for months and months, but all I’d gotten was a finger in her pussy a couple of times and a mouth on her tits a time or two. Nope! No way was I going to push her off me. My fright at getting caught disappeared as lust took over. Then mother said something that tripped a switch in my head.

“Does Bobby like fucking Mommy? Come on baby; fuck Mommy good.”

I exploded up off the chair, carrying Mother with me and in an almost seamless movement, I went from Mother sitting on my lap and fucking me cowgirl to Mother lying on her back on the kitchen table with me standing between her legs. The cock/cunt connection was temporarily broken, but as soon as Mother was on her back, I drove forward, stabbing into her.

The sudden movement and being dropped on her back knocked the breath out of her, and she seemed dazed for a second or three, and then she moaned out “Oh fuck!” and her legs came up and locked behind me and I started pounding. She looked up at me with what I thought were lust-filled eyes, her hands grabbed my ass and I felt her nails as she moaned, “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck” in a continuous stream.

I’ve heard it said that a virgin’s first time is embarrassingly quick, but mine wasn’t. I drove into Mother at least a solid ten minutes. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that I had been beating my meat almost non-stop since seeing Mother the previous day. The entire time I was fucking Mother she as making noise.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck fuck Mommy, cum for Mommy, cum for me, baby, oh fuck yes yes yes don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Two or three times while I was banging away at her, Mother’s body shuddered and shook in what I later found out were orgasms. I reached a point where I wanted to cum and be done, but I couldn’t seem to get off. It stayed out of reach and I went harder and harder to try and make it happen. I was thinking that all the jacking off I’d done in the last eighteen hours drained me to the point where there wasn’t any cum left in me.

I was almost to the point where fucking was going to actually hurting when Mother said something that tripped another switch in me and made me pound her faster and harder.

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ; I’m pulling you out of school and you are just going to stay home and fuck me. I’m never letting you out of the house again. No more fucking Pauline for you. You are mine now; all mine, you hear? All mine. Oh god oh god fuck me fuck me fuck me.”

I gave a last burst of speed and finally got off, but I don’t think anything came out of the end of my dick except maybe a puff of air or a puff of dust. My knees went weak and the only thing that kept me from collapsing back onto the chair were Mother’s legs wrapped around me. Then she relaxed, her legs fell away and I slumped back onto the chair where it had all started.

A moment or two later, Mother sat up, looked at me with a nasty expression on her face and said in a tone of voice that matched her facial expression:

“Happy now, you little fucking pervert? Proud of yourself? I’m your mother for God’s sake. How in the name of God could you fuck your own mother? You are one sorry piece of shit!”

She got off the table and left the room with me staring at her back and wondering, “What the fuck?”

I got dressed and went out into the garage to work on my car. I’d been working on it for about an hour when Mother called me into the house. I walked through the door between the kitchen and the garage and found her standing there in nothing but thigh highs and high heels.

“Mommy needs more, baby. On a bed this time.”

I stood there confused and trying to get my head around what was going on. She comes into my room freshly fucked and with cum running down her leg and it gives me a hard-on, so she says I’m a disgusting pervert. Less than ten hours later, she fucks me in the kitchen and when it’s over I am again a disgusting pervert. Now here we were only an hour later, she wants me to fuck her again. I might not have had a clue as to what was going on, but the sight of Mother standing there did something I didn’t think possible given how hard it had been for me to get off when I fucked her.

It gave me a hard on

Mother smiled as she saw the lump form in my pants. She giggled and said, “Baby wants more, too” and she reached out a hand. “What the fuck?” I thought. “Might as well take it when it’s offered.” I reached out, took her hand and she led me to her bedroom. She undressed me, pushed me back onto the bed and then took me into her mouth for my very first blowjob. She sucked on me until I was as hard as a rock and then asked, “Do I give better head than Pauline?”

“Yes,” I said and it wasn’t a lie because Pauline had never given me head. Then she lay back on the bed and said, “Mommy’s turn, baby.”

I just looked at her and my facial expression must have said, “My turn to what?”

“Don’t you eat Pauline’s pussy?”

“No.” Once again, another truthful answer.

“Why not?”

“She won’t let me.”

True, because the most Pauline would ever let me do was finger fuck her.

“Well Mommy is not only going to let you, but she is going to expect it from you from now on.”

From now on? Just what in the hell was going on here? Mother grabbed my head, pulled it to her cunt and then gave me Pussy Eating 101. I can’t say that I was all that fond of it, but from the way Mother carried on while I was doing it, I decided that it was something useful to know when I started getting it on with other girls.

Apparently, I got Mother off while doing it because she said, “You’ve got talent, baby. Pauline doesn’t know what she’s missing. If you’ve never eaten her pussy I’m guessing that you two have never done a sixty-nine?”

I shook my head no and she giggled and said, “Goodie! Something else I can teach you.”

I can’t say that I liked it any more than I had liked eating her to begin with. It took some courage on my part to get past licking up my own cum, but I didn’t barf and I made it through. She pulled her mouth off me, got up on her hands and knees and said:

“Doggie this time, baby. Puppy fuck Mommy.”

When I finally got off, after getting her off twice, I fell to the bed next to her and she got up and looked down at me.

“You really are a piece of work. It doesn’t bother you at all that you just fucked your mother, does it.”

Given everything that had gone on over the last eighteen hours and her constantly changing personas, it should have come as no surprise to her that I finally lost it.

“Just what the fuck is wrong with you?! Everything that has happened is shit that was started by you.”

She slapped me and said, “Don’t you dare talk to me like that you miserable degenerate!”

“Fuck you, bitch! This is all on you.”

She went to slap me again, but I caught her wrist and pushed her down on the bed (she might have been twenty-two years older, but she was only 5’ 2” and 120 pounds to my 6’1” and 190 pounds) and then I fell on top of her to hold her down as I yelled at her. “What the fuck is it with you? First, it is “Fuck Mommy, baby” and ten minutes later you are cussing me out for doing it. Half an hour later, you are back wanting to do it again, and then I get called names when it is over. If you don’t want to do it why the fuck are you always starting it?”

She gave me a nasty look and said, “I’m doing it so you can’t tell your father about me screwing men here at the house without implicating yourself.”

“Bullshit! I heard you two last night. He already knows you fuck other men.”

“True, but he doesn’t know who they are and I can’t have you naming names.”

“You still aren’t making sense. If you were only doing it to buy my silence, you accomplished that on the breakfast table. There was no need for what we just finished doing, so what is the real reason?”

She stared at me in silence for several seconds and then “Because it is so wicked and it gives me a huge rush.”

“So who is the degenerate here, me or you?”

More silence and then, “I guess we both are. Me for starting it, and you for not pushing me away. We both know it is wrong, but we do it anyway.”

I just shook my head, got off her, gathered up my clothes and started to leave the room.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from here”

“But I’m ready, and I want to do it again.”

“Use your fingers,” I said as I walked out of the room.

I dressed, got in my car and drove away from the house. I didn’t have anywhere I needed to be, but I just couldn’t stay at the house. I needed to put some distance between me and the psychotic bitch who was there. I drove out to Steven’s Point, sat in my car and watched the still water of the lake.

I was shaken by all that I had learned over the last twenty-four hours. My mother was an absolute slut! My girlfriend and her mother were doing gangbangs with my mother. My dad knew that mother was a slut and he put up with it. And then there was me. I had no trouble fucking my own mother, no trouble at all. It was morally wrong and more than likely illegal, but none of that had bothered me in the least when Mother put it out there in front of me, and just how fucked up was that?

The past twenty-four hours had been life changing for me. For one thing, Pauline was history. No fucking way could I overlook what she’d done. We had been dating off and on for two years before she agreed to be my steady and for the last year, we had actually been talking marriage when we graduated. Four years and all I’d ever gotten from her were some hot kisses, a little tit play and a hand job here and there. She did let me finger fuck her, but absolutely refused to make love to me. “I’m walking down the aisle a virgin, Bobby. Get used to it.” Wouldn’t do shit with me, but could do gangbangs with our mothers?

Then I had a nasty thought. Pauline’s mother was one of the hottest women I’d ever seen. I wondered if there was some way to use my newfound knowledge to fuck her. To hell with Pauline! Instead of fucking her, I’d do her mother. Even as I had that thought, I was thinking that there just might be a way to make it happen. Twenty-four hours ago, the thought would never have entered my mind. But now? One hell of a lot can change in twenty-four hours and not all of it will necessarily make you a better person.

If I was going to fuck Jessica (Pauline’s mom), my plan was going to require my mother’s help, so I decided to go back home and see if mother still wanted to play.

She did, and so I did. She didn’t say a word to me when I walked back into the house. She didn’t even smile. She just started taking off her clothes, and once naked she turned and headed for her bedroom. Why her’s and not mine? I didn’t know and probably never would know, but knowing what I did know about it at that point, I believed that she got some sort of charge out of fucking others on the bed she shared with my dad. We always did it on the right side of the bed and thinking back to when I saw her doing the neighbors, it was also the right side of the bed. I didn’t know, but I was guessing that the right side of the bed was where Dad slept.