Halloween Night - October 31st 2007

It's hard to believe it's been a year since that fateful night. Almost impossible to comprehend the changes that have occurred in my life, in my outlook on life, on who I've become... on what I've become... on the horrible things I've done...

I'm going to drink from her breasts tonight... those beautiful orbs that are filled with thick, delicious creamy milk that her body has manufactured for my sister.

Then I'm going to make love with her... unmasked at last.

I think I finally decided to do it simply because I had a bigger penis than my dad. To prove that you can't fuck around with the Miller men. For the family's honor. For my grandfather... and my great grandfather... and my great, great grandfather... and my...

But of course it was never really as simple as that. You don't decide to fuck your mother because your cock is bigger than your father's.

Oh, I could blame Mr. Parker, Mr. Graham fucking Parker with his smooth talk and his oily manner. With his fat prick. What an asshole he was! But I made him pay.

Or I could blame mom for letting the bastard, her boss, fuck her. I could blame her for making dad a cuckold, for making yours truly the son of a cuckold.

Or blame dad for letting another man stick his cock in his wife. I mean what kind of man lets another man cum between his wife's legs? What would have granddad Miller thought of that?

Or I could look in the mirror...

You know, I'd always believed we were a pretty typical family. A happy family. The Stan Millers of Roanoke, Virginia, U.S.A...

June 2006, Roanoke, Virginia

At the time it all started, my dad, Stanley Albert Miller, was a forty year old C.P.A./Financial Adviser who owned his own successful company and had a beautiful, intelligent wife and an eighteen year old son. Who had coached his sons Little League baseball team and who had liked nothing better than spending his Saturday or Sunday afternoons teaching his son the finer points of angling. Who, though quiet, was respected by just about everyone who met him. He was a Shriner.

And his wife Patricia, my mom, a smiling extrovert, popular with everyone, who'd had a child as a seventeen year old high school senior, yours truly in fact, then had juggled school and me over the next five years before joining the labor force when I'd started kindergarten. And then she had never looked back.

They never had another child after I had appeared. Dad, a college junior at the time I was conceived, had run into mom, a neighbor girl he'd known forever, then a sixteen year old, at a college frat party. Somehow Dad, relatively innocent at the time, perhaps more so than the much younger Patricia Adams, impregnated mom before he got her home, then, with absolutely no regrets, married her three months later. Over the years I'd learned that Dad would have loved to have had more children but it had never happened.

And my guess was that he had never cheated on her, shit, probably he had never even thought about cheating on her in the almost twenty years since that night. He was happy. Successful. He loved his wife. Had a satisfying sex life. Was proud of his son. He had lots of friends. He was living the American dream! He didn't know, or at least didn't let on, that his wife had made him a cuckold.

And then there was me, William (Will) Albert Stanley Miller, named after three generations of Miller men. I was the kid who grew up on a tree lined street of beautiful, single family homes each on their own half acre meticulously manicured lot. A house that had a pool and a pool table. A house big enough that the only son of the family didn't just have a large private bedroom, but actually his own suite that included a bedroom, a playroom/library, and a full bathroom with shower and sauna. In my own wing of the house.

Who, lets face it, grew up spoiled, not wanting for anything. Who rode around town on his motorcycle with lots of spending money in his pocket.

I was eighteen when it happened, I had a cute girlfriend, got pretty good marks in school, was the clean-up hitting first baseman of our high school team... I had already slept with two women.

The first, a college coed from New York had taken my virginity on a Florida beach a week after my eighteenth birthday during our annual family Easter vacation. And in spite of my awkward first attempts at lovemaking she had been tender and kind and encouraging, and it must have been good for her because we'd spent the remaining seven days of the vacation locked in each others arms. Mom and dad had looked on knowingly, maybe sad that my manhood signaled the beginning of the end of my dependence upon them, but I think also happy to see how uncomplicated my transition to a sexual being had been.

My girlfriend Susie, who I'd been dating on and off for a couple of years, succumbed to my entreaties two weeks after I'd returned home from Florida. She was bowled away by my sudden confidence in matters sexual. And it was good between us. Even great! In fact the sex we shared was much better than the rest of our relationship had ever been.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when it happened, just three days left before our summer vacation was to start. Life was good. I had just wandered into the town center after school had finished that afternoon when I looked up and saw them fifty feet away across the square...

Tuesday, June 20th, 2006 Mom And Mr. Parker

Mom had gone to work for Mr. Parker's agency four years ago, in 2002, lured away from the real estate agency she'd worked at for ten years by promises made by the smooth talking owner/salesman.

If I'd seen what I saw that late June day a year earlier it would have gone completely over my head. I never would have been sophisticated enough in the ways of men and women to have recognized the signs. But I hadn't been a year younger.

It was just a simple caress, a soft movement of his hand through mom's hair and then across her cheek. It was a cupping of her chin in his hand for a second as he bent and whispered something in her ear. The smile she gave him back that even I, at fifty feet away could recognize for what it was. A lovers moment!

My mother was fucking her asshole boss! The knowledge smashed into my brain, the conclusion unarguable. I stumbled away from the scene stunned, and then ended up a half hour later in my girlfriend Susie's room, with no memory of how I got there.

"Does your dad fool around?" I asked her, trying to sound casual, after we'd spent twenty minutes talking, listening to music and making out. I'd been shaking inside the whole time.

"Of course he does. Why do you think they got divorced? Mom too," she answered in a matter of fact voice. "They all do," she said with a teenager's complete confidence, then added, "they get married... then five or ten years later they start-"

"But-"

"Did you catch your old man fooling around? Is that what this is all about Will? Its normal... they all do it."

"But surely your mom doesn't?" I pled.

"She's screwing Dr. Jacobs?"

"The dentist?" I asked incredulously.

"She's getting drilled twice a week is my sweet mom," she said with a laugh, then put her hand in my lap and asked, "Do you want to use your big drill on poor little Susie Dr. Miller?"

I did use my 'big drill' on Susie during the subsequent twenty minutes but I really hadn't wanted to. I'd wanted to tell her my parents had a perfect marriage... that they never cheated... that they loved each other. As we lay on her bed afterward, naked, my sperm oozing from between her legs, she asked, "Is he as big as you?"

"Who?" I asked stupidly.

"Your daddy."

"My dad?"

"His prick. If he is its no wonder he's got all those women chasing him," she answered as she lifted my cock off my thigh. "Your mom is soooo lucky," she added, then closed her lips over my sticky cockhead.

But I knew he wasn't as big as me... and that it was mom who was doing the running around. How fucking lucky was that I asked myself as Susie hungrily swallowed my lengthening shaft?

The next day in homeroom class I looked around at my classmates and after doing a quick count realized the parents of at least eighteen out of the twenty-nine were divorced, maybe more. My best buddy Jimmy, whose parents weren't divorced, told me over lunch in the school cafeteria that his old man had a mistress.

"But he's too old," I protested. "What about your mom? Does she know?"

"She must. But I don't think she really cares Will. I think she's probably happy about it. It just means she doesn't have to sleep with him so often, I don't think she's into sex," Jimmy said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"How do you know about his girlfriend? Who is she?"

"He left something lying around the house. Then I heard a telephone conversation," he said with a wink. "She's a college student."

"Your old man's fucking a coed? But he's sixty years old," I protested.

"It still gets hard at sixty Will. Or at least they want it to. Why the fuck do you think every second commercial on TV is for Viagra?" Before I could answer he added, "But if your old man is screwing around he's a fool. Your mom's the sexiest women within fifty miles."

"Screw off," I muttered.

"She is, she can have me any day she wants," he answered as he suggestively ran his hand up and down the crotch of his jeans.

If he hadn't been my best friend, and if we hadn't had a history of discussing women we'd like to fuck, of teasing each other, I might have clocked him. Instead I answered, "With that little thing you got, she wouldn't know you were in her."

"God I'd love to see her naked?" he continued with a leer. "What're her nipples like Will? Does she shave down there?" he asked, his questions staccato like, with an evil smile, clearly trying to get a rise out of me. We knew each other too well!

"Fuck you," I grumbled but it wasn't Jimmy who had me pissed off. It was Mr. fucking Parker!

The truth is I'd seen dad naked fairly recently. Just last month. After we'd played tennis at the club and were showering. That's why I knew I was bigger. But I'd never seen mom naked... in a bikini yeah, or in her bra, but not naked. I'd heard them making love once but that was years ago, almost before I even knew what it was all about. But I'd never thought of my mom as a sexual being before. I had never felt the slightest sexual attraction towards her. She was just mom.

Yeah my buddies had teased me about her a bit... had more than once said the same kinds of things Jimmy had just said. Mom was the youngest, and by far the hottest mother, among my circle of friends, even I had recognized that. But it had never translated into any feelings on my part. Screw your mom? Yuck, I'd thought.

Was she really that sexy I wondered as I sat in class that afternoon? It was Wednesday, June 21st, 2006, and in two days my junior year of high school would be finished and I'd be free for the summer. One more year and then I'd be off to University. I was eighteen years old. The world shoulda been my oyster. But I'd just found out my mom was cheating on dad. Screwing her boss. And I knew I just had to do something about it!

Summer Of 2006 - Spying

It was just a typical evening at the Miller house that Wednesday night, Dad grilling ribs and veggies on the BBQ on the patio by the pool while Mom threw together a salad and opened a bottle of wine. Everything was pretty normal except the crazy thoughts that were bouncing around inside my head.

Sipping a coke while I talked sports with dad, my eyes kept drifting through the open patio doors to mom as she moved back and forth in the kitchen. She was still dressed in her normal work clothes, one of her many suits that said just screamed 'top real estate agent'. Today she'd worn an ivory colored French cut outfit that featured a soft, three button jacket over matching linen skirt.

"Hey you, lazyones, I could use some help," she yelled through the doors at me.

"Can you set the table honey, pour the wine, I'm just going to run up and change?" she asked when I wandered in, and then as she started out of the room I watched as she undid the top button of her jacket. But then she turned back and leaned over and grabbed a fat slice of tomato from the salad and popped it in her mouth.

When she had leaned over I saw that all she had on under her jacket was a pale yellow, lace demi-bra. Her breasts were spilling out of it! Full, ripe breasts that were much bigger than Susie's. For the first time in my life I felt the sexual aura my mom threw off. I let this new feeling roll over me as my cock lengthened in my shorts, as I started to understand what Jimmy had been talking about at lunch.

"You're not looking bad for an old chick ma," I said to her back as she started to move away, the type of teasing line that she was used to receiving from her only son. But as I gave her the wolf whistle my eyes were aware of every curve on my mom's perfectly put together butt. And my whistle had a hard-on behind it.

"Yeah right," she laughed as she looked back, but there was a happy gleam in her eyes.

When she came back five minutes later her long black hair had been released and was bouncing wildly over her shoulders and halfway down her back. Mom was one of those women who look good in anything and even dressed simply in a short skirt and shiny scarlet cami looked not only gorgeous but also ten years younger than her thirty-six years.

A trace of perfume wafted in her wake as she passed me as she walked over and then bent and hugged dad.

"Wow!" Dad exclaimed playfully, than gave me a leering look as he pulled his wife of twenty years down onto his lap.

"Stop it," mom laughed as she leaned back into her husband's warm embrace. Her pleated white skirt, a short mini style tennis cut, danced up her golden thighs as her sandaled feet were lifted off the floor. Laughing happily, they were both oblivious to the hungry stare their son's eyes were directing at the small, lacy vee of yellow cloth that was suddenly exposed. A piece of cloth that just seemed to highlight the triangle of pubic fur that was a dark, ominous shadow that easily was visible beneath it.

"Don't you wish you had one of these Will?" dad joked when he and mom broke their embrace.

"They broke the mold dad, I'll never find anyone like mom," I teased back, my smile as tight as my pants seemed to be over my straining cock.

"You've got Susie, she's lovely," mom said as she got up off dad's lap patting her skirt down. But even I could hear mom's underlying thought that 'she's not nearly good enough for myyyy son'.

"Let's eat," dad ordered.

I dreamt of making love with my mother for the first time that night. Then I woke up near dawn groaning as my penis spurted out its creamy tribute to her allure.

In the days and weeks that followed I realized I was as mad at dad as I was at mom and her asshole boss. As I started to spy on my parents I couldn't help asking myself what kind of man would let his wife sleep around with who knows how many different men? Susie's stories about her mother's escapades had made me assume the worst about my mom. How many others were there? Who were they? Were other men making dad, and indirectly me, a fool? Were they laughing at us? How long had she been doing this?

I was angry and embarrassed. I hated to see mom go out the door in the morning as I wondered if she was on her way to sleep with her boss. Or someone else. Watching dad I realized he would never be able to stop his wife's sexual roving, that it was up to another Miller man to bring his wife to heel. That it was up to me to punish the philandering bastard who, every time he thrust his cock between mom's thighs, was shaming me.

Do you know that a normal American citizen, who is willing to spend a couple of thousand bucks in twenty-first century America, can buy himself enough spy gear to stock a good sized P.I. agency. I found that I, an eighteen year old Virginia teenager, could just log on to the internet and buy just about anything I needed. Cheaply! Like:

-miniature pinhole wireless cameras

-microphones

-wireless UHF telephone bugs

-digital GPS car tracking 'real time' devices

So I bought some!

I started with dad and mom's bedroom and bathroom, installing wireless cameras with microphones that could be both recorded to tape as well as watched live on my laptop. The stuff had only arrived on the 29th of June, a Thursday, the Fed-Ex package actually signed for innocently by mom. "Just some computer stuff ma," I'd answered casually to her question of what I'd bought.

"Speaking of computers dear, you've got to get mine organized, I'm having some serious problems," she'd answered.

"Sure, you want me to do it tonight?" I asked. And so, that night, I, the ever helpful son, got total access to her desktop in the den and her ever present laptop. I memorized the passwords to her e-mail and date book, her bank accounts, hell everything.

Then I figured out how to use the new stuff I'd bought the next day, and then, when dad and mom were out Saturday afternoon, I installed the bugs and cameras in their bedroom and bathroom. What a son!

Then I watched, alternatively ashamed and excited, as my father made love to my mother that night. A grainy porno film gone wrong! Lying in my own bed, stroking myself to orgasm as dad's hips thrust urgently into his moaning wife. It was a disgusting, unforgivable invasion of privacy! My cock was bigger than dads. I knew I'd be able to satisfy her better than he ever could.

I have to warn you — you'll never look at your parents the same way if it ever happens to you. Voyeurism can almost turn into a disease. Watching your mother's tits and nipples and mouth and cunt and ass being touched and penetrated. Aroused and licked. Fucked.

Watching your mother on her knees between the legs of your father, her lips opening to take in his prick, disgusts you even as it excites. Hearing her cry out, 'Fuck me daddy, fuck me hard with your big prick', was so contrary to everything she'd always represented to me all my life. And yet I watched — spellbound. Wishing it was my cock in her mouth.

How can I describe my parent's sex life? I'd had no idea what was normal for a couple that had been married twenty years. On the one hand, a boy has porn films he invariably has been exposed to as a reference. But even I, at eighteen, knew that the actions of porn stars cavorting through every conceivable coupling wasn't even remotely close to reality.

And my own experiences were too new and too personal to represent some 'normal' level of sexual activity that I could compare to my parents.

I watched over those summer weeks. I learned their routines, their sexual likes and dislikes. Heard stuff a boy should never know about his parents.

They averaged out to sex twice a week. Usually a Thursday or Friday night and then most Sunday nights. Dad loved to have mom take him into her mouth prior to intercourse but she almost never let him come in her mouth. It was foreplay. Dad didn't like going down on mom, from her comments it clearly was a long standing but relatively small bone of contention between them.

They weren't very athletic in their couplings. No Kama Sutra of positions between the Millers! Missionary position and doggie style was their complete repertoire. The Sunday sex usually involved only one male orgasm but the Thursday or Friday ones usually featured two and once even three male spurtings.

Dad's cock seemed relatively average, both in girth and length. Maybe six inches fully erect. It seemed to work fine.

They seemed to enjoy the sex. There was never any angry words, no recriminating accusations. They invariably fell asleep smiling in each others arms. But somehow it just wasn't... I don't know, maybe intense is the word I'm looking for. It lacked passion... violence... need.

And I noticed that Mother hardly ever had an orgasm during sex, and when she did it was invariably produced by the urgent manipulation of her clitoris by her fingers as dad fucked her doggie style. It was clear from watching that her sex drive was significantly greater than dad's.

Watching spellbound in my room, knowing that mother was going elsewhere for sex, I couldn't help but mutter advice as I watched my father with mom. As I stroked my own long penis to the rhythms of mother's sexual groans I'd yell out unheard instructions to dad.

"Not yet... no, don't do that... slower... faster... ," an endless litany that I hoped would somehow be heard and understood, and then acted on by dad.

And yet he'd invariably cum before mom was ready, and well before my cock was ready to spew out its load of thick cum. It simply became clear as the days and weeks passed that if I didn't want mom to stray in the future that I'd have to give her what she needed myself. Whether she wanted me to or not!

What's worse, I'd asked myself endlessly as the days had passed, to have my mom sleeping around town disgracing herself and belittling dad, shaming our family, or for me, her son, satisfying her carnal needs with taboo incestuous couplings?

As to her extramarital affairs it soon became clear that her sexual trysts were rare exceptions in an otherwise normal life. Her phone calls, her e-mails, her instant messaging revealed nothing of a sexual nature, instead simply became for me a boring task of sifting through screens of uninteresting correspondence.

Even the camera and bugs I'd placed in moms office the second week had yielded nothing more than the odd comment between the lovers that simply confirmed my suspicions that something was going on. But no real proof!

It was mom's 2006 date book and calendar that finally gave me my first true clue. Kept on her computer and accessible from home and her office and her BlackBerry, I scoured through every entry for 2006. The only anomalies I could find were small red stars that appeared eight different times over the six plus months. There was never any name or other notation next to them. They occurred randomly, but generally there seemed to be one every three or four weeks.

Quick crosschecking of Dad's date book and his American Express receipts showed that dad had been out of town on all eight days that a star appeared in mom's book.

It was on July the twelfth when I figured out the stars. Checking again, I saw the last one had been on June twentieth, the same day I'd seen them across the square. Quickly I realized that the tender caress I'd seen that day had been simply the denouement of an afternoon of infidelity. Parker's cum had probably been sliding down mom's thigh as I'd watched them from across the square!

I also immediately realized as I plotted the dates of their meetings that if the two continued to form they were due for another rendezvous any day.

I simply watched and waited!

I had also learned quite a bit about Graham Parker during my weeks of spying. Married, with four children aged seven to sixteen; I soon found that the forty-nine year old wasn't cheating just with mom. Monitoring his phone conversations it was clear he was one of those middle-aged married salesmen who figure it's their duty to try their sales lines on every member of the opposite sex they meet.

I followed him one Friday night in July when he came out of one of the local pickup bars around eleven with his arm around a forty something blond. A blond I immediately recognized as the divorced mother of one of my classmates. I tried to follow him that night on my motorcycle but once out of town and winding through the forested foothills it was impossible to keep up with him without giving myself away. So I let him go that night.

But then found out two days later (from a casual question I asked mom) that he owned a small cabin fifteen miles out of town, deep in the woods, a private lair on a small stream that was almost impossible to find without a map. Driving out to scout the location I knew immediately it was where he took my mom. That this one room cabin, with a washroom and small open kitchen, but dominated by a queen sized bed that sat proudly in the center of the room, was where my mother lay back and opened her legs and let another man defile her.

I wanted to burn the shack down. Instead, I installed one of my wireless, pinhole cameras before I left. Right next to the bed.

I continued to wait, and then, finally, during dinner, on Sunday, July 23rd I heard dad tell mom that he'd be going to Richmond on the following Wednesday, that he even might have to stay overnight. At ten-thirty seven that night, while my father was in the shower, my mother sent an e-mail to her boss, it had no message, instead there was simply a red star next to the letter W.

Then, when dad emerged smiling from the shower, mom playfully pulled the towel from around my father's middle and sank to the carpet in front of him. I watched as her mouth engulfed his hardness. She swallowed dad's cum that night. Even dad could sense mom's wanton playfulness.

I'd assumed that Parker's cabin was going to be their destination and I wasn't disappointed. They'd left the office together at ten thirty in the morning, ostensibly to visit some properties (or so I heard them tell the agencies secretary through my hidden mike) but neither could hide their hungry smiles as they slipped into Parker's Mercedes.

I raced ahead and had reached the cabin and had hidden myself when Parkers car bounced up the last fifty yards of the rutted path ten minutes later. I'd already turned on the camera.

And then I'd sat back and watched the cabin for over a half hour, the whole time fighting the urge to sneak up to the window and watch them. But I knew my camera was rolling.

But then suddenly the door opened and mother backed out into the sunlight. I watched her as she talked to the still hidden Parker, then heard her laugh as she turned and then ran laughing to the river bank. She was naked!

He followed... also naked... his penis sticking out, his engorged cock pointing the way as he chased mom into the water. It was bigger than dad's, both longer and thicker. If I'd had a gun in my hands that day Mr. Graham Parker would have been dickless before his feet hit the water.

And yet I did nothing. Instead I watched him pull my willing, giggling mom into his arms. I watched as her lips urgently sought out his. I watched as he carried her wet naked body to the grassy bank.

"Little slut," he laughingly said, his loud words echoing around the clearing as he forced mom to her knees before him. "Suck it!" he ordered as his hands grabbed handfuls of mom's flowing hair.

"Make me," she challenged back, her eyes gleaming in excitement as they looked up at the man towering above her.

"Eat it bitch," Parker yelled than cracked his palm against her cheek.

"Bastard," she hissed back but then hungrily attacked the angry red, blood filled cylinder of meat that faced her. I watched stunned, both by the violence of the slap and the angry language, and by the way mom devoured the thick cock. Nothing I'd seen in the weeks of watching mom and dad had prepared me for this new animalistic woman on her knees. She was a woman I'd never encountered before.

"Enough," Parker finally cried, then pushed mom's mouth off his prick before roughly pushing her face down onto the grass. "On your stomach slut," he ordered, then moved behind Mrs. Stanley Miller and brought his saliva coated penis towards the crack in her butt.

"In your ass today slut?" he asked as he slid his cock between mom's cheeks.

"Fuck you."

"No, I think I'll save that for later," he laughed as he rammed his cock into my mother's pussy.

It went on and on. I watched spellbound as he slapped mom's ass repeatedly as his cock spat his filthy cum inside her. Watched afterwards when she cleaned his prick with her tongue.

I masturbated as I watched. I couldn't help it. With tears running down my cheeks. Realizing suddenly that I wanted to fuck my mother as badly as I wanted to kill the prick who was grinding his body on top of her.

All that afternoon they continued. My mother screamed out her orgasms... her satisfaction a series of loud moans interspersed with vile, coarse demands. I came four times while I watched. And as I watched I started to make plans...

August - Mr. Parker

I'd been spying on Mr. Parker too of course. Knew that it wasn't just mom that this middle aged Romeo was fucking. But it was mom he was going to pay for. And when it happened he was going to know exactly who and what he was paying for.

It was mid August, three weeks after I'd followed him and mom to the cabin in the woods, three weeks since I'd got proof positive he was screwing my mom. It was time for him to pay for his transgressions!

Mom and Dad had gone to the Big Apple for a two week holiday in mid August, leaving me alone to mind the store as dad had so aptly put it.

"I can't come?" I'd asked when they'd told me, not wanting to miss a chance to spend some time in New York.