Episode 20: Elliot Mess

Paris, France! The campus of Sorbonne University, the dark corner where the genius IQs resided. Slackers beware!

“You will be speaking with your lady friend this day Elliot Most Needy?”

“Most Needy? What the fuck, Fuk?”

“Forgive me my friend, it is I who is most needy. I find your lady friend quite lovely indeed.”

“Only because you saw her pussy squirting. I had her do that just for you Buddy.” No, he didn’t. Elliot was just buttering up his friend. His adopted mother Margo had mistakenly sent the video of her masturbating to him rather than his high school chum Brian Hancock. Since that night Elliot had watched it two dozen times. Allowing his friend Farouk aka Fuk a few chances of observation the Egyptian lad was enamored. A virgin tends to act like that. A very wealthy virgin at that.

“I am most grateful friend Elliot. You have such control over her, of this I admire.”

“Yeah? She’s a good little slut, isn’t she? I dig my slave.” He knew his mom would not be happy that he referred to her as a slut or a slave, even though his dad used to call her both. She wasn’t here to scold him, so, oh, well.

“Slave she is? She would obey your every command?”

“Anything I order her to. The bitch has no choice, or I’ll punish her ass when I get home.”

“So very exciting. I would never have imagined looking at you.”

“Uhhhh! Thanks, I think. Wait! Was that an insult?” He glares with a confused look, “I love making her do crazy things.”

“I would hear stories.”

“Another time Fuk. We have to get to class. Jacque hates tardiness.”

“Mister Paquet will say nothing to me. My father pays too much to this school for he to be outspoken. He has also taken a leave of absence, had you not heard?”

“You act like your dad is rich. No, I hadn’t heard. I wonder who will take over the class?”

“Quite wealthy, yes. In your country I believe the term is billionaire.”

“Yeah, right. Camel salesman probably.”

“Perhaps. Father invests in many such enterprises. Mostly oil.”

“Isn’t that Saudi Arabia?”

“There is oil in Egypt, however he invests in other countries as well, such as Kuwait.”

“So, if you’re so rich why are you wearing Nikes?” Elliot laughs pointing at his shoes.

“I wear that which I like, not what is expected of me.”

Reaching the classroom entrance Elliot stops in devious thought, allowing other classmates around them. “How much are you willing to spend if I have my whore send you pictures?”

“You may set the amount.”

“Hundred bucks American for each picture.” Elliot ran with it expecting to be blown off. Instead, Farouk Al-Kamundi removes his wallet and reveals Euro instead of American currency.

“You must exchange these.” He offers ten bills equivalent to a thousand dollars. Elliot bulges his eyes at the bankroll then hisses.

“Hold on to that cash until after classes. I’ll get you pics then you can pay me for them. Deal?”

“Yes, deal. Thank you, my friend.”

“Let’s get to our seats before roll call.”

Motioning Farouk in first, Elliot cringes slightly. He had roughly ten pictures in his cell to offer, secret nudes he had taken of Margo while she wasn’t looking. He had plenty more on disks and videos at home held hidden away for safe keeping in case his mom snooped into his computer. With no other access he knew he might have to sucker his adopted mom into sending more. The thought bothered him, for all of five minutes. Story for another day. Taking his seat Elliot scanned about at his fellow classmates. He had his eyes on a few of the female classmates, all from other countries who attended this special outreach school for scholastic geniuses. Sadly, Elliot was probably the dumbest one there. Regardless, he would play it off that he was better than they were.

Two seats away Farouk sat proper and almost regal, the image made Elliot wonder just how real Farouk’s admission of wealth and power was. Could he tap into this kid and sucker him into fast cars and nice clothes? Elliot Needy was one slick motherfucker. Hell, he hadn’t really processed the net worth of everyone in the class. He educated a guess that most of them were poor like he was. Maybe he was wrong. Uniforms all alike except for a rare few such as Fuk it was hard to tell. Poise and presence made sense to look for. The girls there were stunning at their worst. The guys ranging from lank and homely, to stud quality and biceps to match. How was that even possible? He felt really alone suddenly. Elliot shared little in common with any of them. Even Farouk, yet the boy stood by Elliot faithfully. In his thoughts Elliot frowned, “Thanks mom.” He knew it was her that kept Farouk his friend.

As the class awaited their new teacher ready to assume Jacque Paquet’s unexpected vacancy, it was tense. Everyone had grown to understand and respect Jacque. Anyone new would be starting over. Only a six-month course that meant studying that much harder. In walked a perfect woman roughly the same age as his mother, possibly a bit older. Strangely, she looked a bit like Margo Needy in build and poise. Long brown hair boasting perfect curls. Thick rimmed glasses made her appear quite intellectual. In this class she would have to be, right? “HOLY SHIT!” Elliot had to wrestle with an instantaneous erection tightening in his uniform pants. “Who the heck is this???”

“Prêter attention, écouter.” She clapped her hands twice before switching to English from her native French language, “Listen carefully. My name is Brigitte LaPute, I shall be your new Instructor.” Elliot heard snickers over the remainder of her greeting but was clueless as to why until a boy beside him wrote a note on his notebook saying, “LaPute in French means Bitch, Slut, Hooker, and Whore.” Eyes bulging Elliot took a closer look at his teacher. With a busting cleavage beneath a very snug sweater her name just might suit her well. That and a very tight short stretchy skirt. Wasn’t there a dress code? Elliot had to laugh out loud.

“Do you find something humorous?” The teacher moved in front of her desk and sat up on it with a strict glare at Elliot. The other students snapped a dirty look at him for his disruption. As she crossed her long flawless legs he gulped. As did a good portion of the other students taking in her beauty.

“Sorry, Ms. LaPute.”

“Please explain what you find so amusing.” A hint of white lace panties triangulated beneath her black skirt. Dicks were growing with each passing glimpse. She had to know her effect on men, it was too obvious. Elliot took the bull by the horns, rising to his feet boldly as jaws drop all around him.

“May I show you something?” He had his hands in his pockets the entire stance. Her eyes lowered intentionally toward his pants then just as swiftly returned to his eyes. With her hand she calls him to her side. Strangely, he found the curling finger seductive. Sure, why not. Hot French teacher, it was natural. Approaching her he draws his cellphone out of his pants pocket to her peaked eyebrow. Braving the moment, Elliot got even more ballsy and hopped up on top of the desk next to her as he searched his cellphone for a certain picture. Finding it as the students held their breath expecting him to be punished for sitting so close to her, he shares the photo with Brigitte. Taking time to examine it he discovered Elliot held at his high school graduation by his stunning mother Margo Needy. “See the resemblance? You look just like my ... MOMMY.” He emphasized a tad higher in tone to spark a curiosity in Brigitte.

“She is quite lovely.”

“As are you.” He smiles as she frowns. Buttering her up was harder than he expected. “I miss my ... MOMMY.” He dares a second attempt at a giggle. He got laughs, just not out of Brigitte. Lowering his cell with her hand led it to his leg, a mere inch from his tented slacks. He had the screen right over the bulge, Margo’s face in use even now. Bad Elliot, bad. Of course, it wasn’t his mom that he imagined, it was Brigitte kneeling in front of him. It was not in the cards.

“Please take your seat.” She spoke firmly. In response he rubbed his chin telling her the same thing, only in a snickering thought. She would look nice sitting on his face. In that moment, Elliot Needy earned the respect of his classmates. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as he looked. Hopping down he shared the picture of Margo to his class in a swift tour of a four-seat radius. Farouk told him via mouthed words, “I want that picture.” Easy money.

Seated finally, he found Brigitte had left her desk and stood next to him. Snatching his phone from his hand she promptly spoke, “You may have your phone after the class has ended.” He shared a puzzled shrug with everyone else. Suave Elliot, use that swagger. Girls did take note. Maybe Elliot was on to something. For now, he chose to behave. Brigitte had a class to get started.

Stateside, Pennsylvania, namely the town of Wildwood...

Brian Hancock and his father Bruno took lunch at a park next to his stepmom’s Bakery. Taking time to bring them dessert Carmen Biggs-Bishop-Hancock walked across the grass toward their bench. All of these years since his father had remarried, after cheating with this woman, Brian found resentment. This past week reacquainting of sorts with Carmen’s four daughters he had changed his tune. Her eldest Gwen was sporting perfect enhanced breasts, her middle sisters MJ and Daphne were still smoking hot, and the youngest Heidi ... who? Too young. Where was he? Now for some sad reason he was staring at his smoking hot stepmother as she strutted toward them, massive braless cleavage bobbing about just for Bruno’s pleasure. She loved her man and knew leaving her bra in her office was the way to her man’s heart. At 42, Carmen had it going on, probably why Bruno cheated. Years ago, Carmen Biggs-Bishop had her own set of enhancements done. Porn star boobs, and a muscularly tight ass kept Bruno under her thumb. Now, Brian understood. Of course, Brian still chuckled under his breath at her name ... Cumon Big BitcHop Cocks ... minus the hand and the second G-spot in BigGs. His brother Jeff declared that her nickname. Unknown to her of course.

“Hey boys. Ready for something sweet?” She flipped her blond locks from her ear as she handed Bruno a sack with Danish inside. Plopping down in his lap made Bruno lower the bag at Brian to claim. That left him free to smooch his main squeeze. His hands were all over Carmen right in front of his son, even going up her blouse to squeeze a breast. Blushing over it, she squealed in their lip lock knowing Brian was looking. Not that she stopped Bruno, she knew better than to make him look bad. As much as she knew her body attracted attention, she was always faithful to her man. Subtle teases at best just for kicks when she was frisky. Her man more than satisfied her in bed. Massive cocks and worthy tongues did that. Under boob shown off Brian caught a glimpse and squinted at his luck. Dad was the man!

“I’m taking her cherry ... Danish.” Brian laughs.

Kisses parting Carmen grins at Brian even as Bruno’s hand persisted in slightly showing her off. Patting Bruno’s knuckles, she apologized. “Forgive your father he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. How are you, Brian? It’s been a while. It’s so good to see you boys together. I know you see each other every day, but I don’t get to share in that.”

“I’m good. Bigger in every way since I saw you last.” He patted his inseam without thinking. Her reaction was a blush but still ventured a glance at his tented erection. Harmless to look, she knew it was Bruno’s lustful grope that forced that upon his son.

“You’re certainly taller than the last time I saw you. Your high school graduation I think.”

“A year does that Carmen. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Quit lookin’ at her tits.” Bruno growls as Carmen strokes his beard, almost blushing.

“I wasn’t, yeah, okay, you caught me. Sorry Carmen. You’re the one showing her off Pop.”

“Too much cleavage today.” She uses Bruno’s ZZ Top beard to block her window of bulging beauties, just not the underside still revealing itself. “Speaking of these, did your father tell you Gwen got her own enlargements?”

“Yup. I stopped by the ice cream hut and saw for myself.”

“Oh? Gwen didn’t tell me that. Was she shocked to see you?”

“In more ways than one. The other girls showed up while I was there.”

“Does none of my babies gossip with their mother anymore?” She pouts toward Bruno who rubbed her hip with his free hand as a consolation.

“Kids these days.” Bruno huffs then switches breasts gripping the other one.

“You are so bad.” She snuggled up, “I’m shocked that Heidi at the very least didn’t say anything. She has a difficult time keeping secrets. Anyways, you should stop by more often Brian. Jeffrey as well. Lucy? I have given up hope on. I swear if my daughters’ become strippers, I’m going to lock them up until they’re retirement age.”

“I keep telling Carmen she should have Lucy get her a job. She’s still got what the boys like.” Bruno huffs bragging at his wife and pinching her nipple brightening her eyes at first Bruno, then Brian. She fans his beard under his nose without a word of retaliation. As her chest slipped into a better view Brian noticed nipple hard on over the one his father had neglected. Staring for ten seconds he turns away eating his Danish. The resentment of this woman stealing her dad from his mom might be cooling down, but he didn’t need to make matters worse. Her daughters were going to be more than enough revenge he thought.

“I hear from Bruno that you moved out to the country with Margo Needy.”

“Yep. Loving the great outdoors.”

“Eric Crowe also moved there. His mother works for me, remember? She is not very happy with her son.”

“Bible bashers usually aren’t happy about anything.” He chuckles. “Margo’s cool. Her son Elliot asked us to move out there to keep her safe. She’s never been alone in the wilderness by herself. We were all having troubles finding a big enough place to be on our own anyway. Worked out perfectly. Swimming pool, fitness room, you name it.” He winced at the announcement of a gym due to pulling a muscle in his shoulder. Still tender, yet manageable. “Matter of fact, Margo’s looking into turning her home into a Bed & Breakfast.”

“Really? Bruno? You better take me there once she opens up.”

A sudden vision of the attic enters Brian’s head, seeing his stepmother dangling from the ceiling naked in a harness. Shaking it off fast he stands up, “I need to make a call.” Shocked by his sudden jump Carmen winces at Bruno, who merely shrugs at her. It was Brian’s hasty retreat that made Carmen notice a bulge in his pants. What was that about? Surely, it was over Margo Needy. Waiting until Brian had turned his back to them Bruno drew her attention away from his son lifting her blouse up to reveal both behemoth breasts. He then gobbled up her nipples. Glancing at Brian on his cell she erupted into laughter, his beard tickling her skin. She loved how spontaneous her hubby was. The distraction worked, her mind solely on her man. Until later when bored at work, then her own imagination would wander a bit.

Back to Paris, France...

Elliot’s eyes were glued to his new teacher’s curves. From behind she was his mother perfectly. Her long brown hair even cut similar. Her ass tight, firm, yet with enough substance that a worthy twerk would turn men savage. Her long muscular legs rising up to her skirt’s short hemline kept every boy in the class staring in hopes a cheek might magically appear, which on occasion they did. Thankfully, Brigitte was a chalkboard lover, writing down formulas from top to bottom in her eagerness to share knowledge. The lower she wrote, the more she bent over. “Here they come.” Elliot grits his teeth with anticipation. Everyone on the edge of their seats counting the seconds before, “YES!” A boy yelled out as her butt cheeks lowest elevation revealed itself. Oh, the stares he got knowing that she straightened her posture to observe the outburst over her shoulder.

“Yes?” She looked about for the candidate speaker.

“I get the formula.” The boy improvised pumping his fist almost in a jerking off pose. Everyone chuckled, even blushing girls nearly just as excited by Brigitte as the boys.

“This is good.” Brigitte smiles, “Then I am doing something right.”

“YES, YOU ARE.” Elliot sighed, his chin held up by his right palm, elbow on the desk. Hearing his barely audible sigh Brigitte eyes Elliot with a squint before lifting her glasses at the bridge of her nose. She knew testosterone well, a no brainer that Brigitte understood her body language better than most. While professional within her career, Brigitte had other interests as well. Her students would learn more than mere formula’s over the next few months.

Turning back to the board Brigitte smirks and leans down to continue her chalk etchings, knowing well that her skirt was rising in behind. As more cheek exposed, she heard a multitude of groans. Not enough she told herself, literally dropping her chalk to the tile floor. Bending to retrieve the chalk her curves went full on valley, cheeks forming upward into her crevice. A tender white set of nearly transparent lace panties winking at her young scholastic geniuses covered a genuinely perfect clam, the G-string tightening up into her labia sharing flesh to both sides. If only for a brief instant before she finishes her equations the thrill was there and gone. Turning to face her class she discovered jaws drooping everywhere she looked.

“By your expressions I believe you are all grasping the physical probabilities of a black hole. Well done, my Mon Petit’.”

“Did she say her mom’s tits?” Elliot wrote on his own notebook to show the boy next to him who had relayed her namesake earlier. The boy nodded trying not to laugh aloud. Was it strange Elliot pictured his mom’s breasts right in that moment? Then, a shifted gaze at Brigitte’s heaving chest he puckered, “Clones I say.” Interesting thought. “Hmmm! She looks like mom ... Fuk wants pictures of Mom ... naaaa! No way.”

As she takes her seat at her desk, she tells the class to open a book on Nuclear Physics, prompting them to read a short chapter on neurons. As they focused on their reading Brigitte sat back in her swivel chair and nibbled on her pen. Studying Elliot for some reason she notes his cell resting on her desk, curiosity consuming her she slides it to her lap to not look suspicious. It still had the photo of he and Margo on it when swiped open.

“His Mother does indeed look like me. How intriguing, that he relates to me so favorably, appearing as her. Could it be that he is a momma’s boy?” A hidden smirk leads her to search her students for watchers. Finding two she taps her own book informing them to read. Once everyone was on the same page, she carefully angles Elliot’s cell camera up under her skirt and snaps a picture of her panties, legs widened for effect. Saving the pic to his cell she types a reference to herself with, “MON PETIT’.” She would let him discover it on his own should he search. A clue would be given. Brigitte LaPute was devious in her own right. Momma’s boy she would see for herself.

As a bell ended class, Brigitte waved her students on with her appreciation for being kind to her first day with them. Farouk and Elliot start to walk out together when Brigitte clears her throat, “Leaving so soon Monsieur Needy?” Elliot hearing her stops cold and pats Farouk on the back whispering, “She wants me.” Farouk seemed delighted at Elliot’s prowess over women. Taking his leave, the Egyptian lad would wait in the hall.

Gathering his coolness Elliot whips around on his heel and struts toward Brigitte who turns in her chair to face him. His eyes immediately went between her legs, until she crossed them ever so slowly. “You called Ms. LaPute?”

“Do you not want your phone back?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely.”

“Your mother is incredibly beautiful.”

“Which is exactly why I shared her picture with you. You’re her twin almost.”

“Are you insinuating that I am beautiful, Monsieur Needy?”

“FUCK YES!” He belts out to her stern expression, one that softened slightly. “I mean very beautiful. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I am quite aware. You may grow now.” Go as well! Sly bitch!

“Right.” He twirls in step and starts out when he looks at his cell to realize his camera was on. In the corner was a tiny picture. Slowing his walk, he opens the picture full screen and bulges his eyes. It was definitely not a photo of his mom. Afraid to look back he freezes. Heartbeat pounding, he took the risk and found Brigitte waving him on as if nothing happened. He cleared his throat dryly and offered a final farewell with, “Screensaver.” Two steps after he paused, “Did she say I may grow now, instead of go now?” His dick leaped to her command. “Holy Crap!” She tilted her gaze scowling. “Screen Lock?” He reconsidered.

“Have a good day Monsieur Needy.”

“You too LaPute.” His translation leaning toward Slut. Worked for him. It did make her grin after he left. For now, Elliot kept the picture to himself. It could prove useful.

Stateside, once again...

Margo Needy finished folding up her laundry, when she felt a chill come over her. Shivering, she rubs her upper arms and folds them across her chest, topless, wearing only white G-string panties, strangely similar to those worn by someone she had yet to even know about. Margo felt drawn to her son’s closed bedroom door, leaving her basket but procuring her cell from the top of folded towels. Feeling lonely all of a sudden, she turns the doorknob and pushes the door open. Gloomy within she moves across the room to open his curtains, then his bedroom window, it was stuffy now that his ceiling fan was relocated to Eric’s bedroom. In the distance she spotted Cabot and Eric mowing the yard. Good boys she smiled; they were doing their best to keep her happy. The favor was definitely returned.

The breeze cascading her flesh made her close her eyes and enjoy it. With no air conditioning it felt delightful. She needed to open more windows to cool the home down. Before leaving the room, she explored Elliot’s things, missing her son to the point of nearly tearing up. His friends kept her busy, but it was these quiet moments that made her emotions sensitive. Outside of a few texts, he had not called, nor skyped with her since he left. She was ready to make the call herself but knew he might feel pampered.

Soul searching a bit she sat down on Elliot’s bed and rubbed her palm over his soft blanket. “These need to be washed. Definitely before I let Jeffrey move into Elliot’s room while he’s gone. Am I being selfish letting someone invade my son’s bedroom? It is only until Elliot returns. The months will fly by.” She sighs and stretches out over the mattress clutching one of his pillows to capture his scent. “Maybe I won’t wash the pillowcases.” She needed her son, and this was the next best thing that she had until he came home.

Cell in hand she again felt tempted to at least text Elliot her love. “Just do it.” She told herself falling to her back, pillow under her chin as she lifted her cell above her. “It’s almost 6:00 PM in France. He’s out of school and it’s too early for bed, so, I shouldn’t wake him.” She gathers her thoughts then begins texting. “I miss you, Elliot. I love you so much.” A mother’s love regardless of not being paternal was strong. Sending the text, she lowers her cell and snuggles with the pillow. Two minutes later her cell blurts out a text tone of Baby Stewie from the Family Guy spouting, “Mom, Mum, Mommy.” She nearly bawled, grateful that he had acknowledged her, as well as having installed the ringtone. It was precious.

“Love you too mom.”

Texting became an obsession suddenly, rolling over on the mattress to type better, not even questioning the fact that she was one thread away from being nude in her son’s bed. Mainly, because it hadn’t occurred to her yet.

“How is school going?”

“Great! New teacher. She looks just like you almost.”

“Really?” She felt jealous a bit. “You will have to take a picture of her and show me, if she’s alright with that.”

“I’ll ask. I’m at the Library. This place is humongous mom. Hardly, anybody around it’s kind of spooky.”