So I Wouldn't Tell Ch. 01

My mother and father were having another one of their knock-down, drag-out battles. The screaming and the sound of slamming furniture coming from their bedroom across the hall from mine was deafening. But not deafening enough. I had to put my hands over my ears to block it out. I was a freshman at the local college and was trying to study for a Chemistry 101 exam tomorrow, but with all this disturbance CO2 and NaCl were not penetrating into my brain. Did they want me to fail Chemistry?

They were always fighting. I never really knew about what, but I think that maybe my father thought that my mother fooled around with other men, and my mother thought-I don't know what. I kept hearing her say 'college boys' in an accusing tone all the time. What did that mean?

I really don't like to think of my mom and dad having extra-curricular sex. I mean what kid does? You always think your parents should be this perfect loving couple. But maybe there was a different reality in this house. My parents really were different from all the other parents in town.

All the other moms were kind of middle-aged and matronly and dumpy. My mom was still a beauty. I mean she was seductive. I mean if she weren't my mother, I would probably have the hots for her. Like if she were my teacher or something, I could really get something going. Her tits were pretty large and still firm. Well, she wasn't that old. She had married at a very young age, and I was born only three days after the wedding. So I guess my parents are really very passionate people, which is okay, because I think I am passionate also, even though I haven't had the opportunity to do anything about it yet, and I don't even have a girl friend. Maybe it's because the girls my age don't do so much for me. I really get turned on by more mature, sophisticated women, kind of like my mother.

I go to the gym a lot and lift weights, because I am a little on the thin side, and would like to build myself up. I would like to look exactly like my father, who is still a very young guy, and really handsome, with a great athletic build, and who has won many third-prize bronze medals in long distance bicycle races.

They were both so unbelievably sexually attractive that they should have been perfect together. Why were they always fighting? My father would never find a hotter looking woman than my mother, and my mother - well, I had to admit that my father was a prize stud. She was lucky to have him, and she didn't appreciate that fact.

Then I heard their bedroom door slam, and I heard my father stomp down the stairs, and I heard the front door slam, and then I heard the engine of his car rev up and then I heard the car pull away. My Chemistry cramming was now down the drain. I went to my bedroom door and opened it. Their bedroom door was open, and my mother was sitting on the bed, with her head buried in her hands, sobbing.

"Mom. What is it? What happened?"

"We had a terrible argument. He's leaving me. We're getting a divorce."

"Oh god! No!" This was the worst.

"Yes. Well screw him. Just screw him. I can get any man I want."

"Mom, please. Calm down."

But she just started to sob again. I stood there and watched helplessly, but finally I went back to my bedroom and closed the door. I tried to open my Chemistry textbook, but my mind wasn't focusing, so I just got undressed and climbed into my bed, and turned off the lamp, and tried to fall asleep. This was so upsetting. I loved my mom and I loved my dad. I didn't want them to split up. This was so upsetting.

There were some phone calls, and my mother sounded very spiteful and nasty on the phone, so I knew she was talking to my father. And then she would slam down the phone. Then she would go to the refrigerator and open the door, just to be able to slam it shut really hard. Yes. She had just been on the phone with my father. This was so upsetting. How could I concentrate on my studies? I would fail all my courses and drop out of college and end up in a low-paying civil service job, which I guess was okay, because the benefits were good. Healthcare. Pension. So maybe that wasn't such a terrible fate. But I really had wanted to be a Research Scientist. Oh, well.

A few days later I was home between classes, and I had to fix my own tuna fish salad sandwich on whole wheat toast, because my mother had gone into town to the beauty parlor. She needed to get her hair done. I think she may have been dying it blonde, but I wasn't sure. It did look a little blonder now than it had several years ago. That's why when the phone rang this time, I was the one who answered it.

"Hello," I said.

"Martin."

"Hi dad. How are you?"

"Fine, Martin. Is your mother there?"

"She's at the beauty parlor," I told him. "I wish you'd come home, dad. I really miss you."

"And I miss you son. You're the one that I miss in that house."

"I love you, dad."

"And I love you, Martin. Say. How about we get together and spend a day? How about on Saturday, I'll rent us a couple of bikes and we'll ride all around the city, and then I'll take you out for a nice seafood dinner by the lakefront. We'll have a great old time. Just us guys. Would you like that?"

"Yes dad. That really sounds great." This was terrific. I had always wanted to go bike riding with my father. He just had never asked me before.

I agreed to meet him at his hotel room at the Stratford Palace on Elm Street downtown. Room 422. I was to be there around 2 p.m. I was really looking forward to it. When my mother got home, I told her about my plans for Saturday, and her eyes got really narrow, but she didn't say anything. Was she pissed that I was going to be spending the day with my own father?

Well, I can only tell you that dad and I had the most fantastic day. We rode our bikes out into the countryside for miles and miles, and then we went back to the lakefront and my dad bought me the most fantastic Lobster Thermador at the Lobster Shack facing pier 22. And then I had strawberry shortcake for desert. It was the greatest dinner I have ever had. My mother is not a four-star chef. I get a lot of frozen dinners at home.

"It's so great to spend the day with you, Martin. We should do this more often," my dad said to me.

"Yes, we should," I agreed. I would really like a lot more days like this. I loved being with my dad. He had never paid that much attention to me when I was younger. It just seemed like I didn't interest him at all. But lately, since I graduated from high school and started going to college, he seems to take more notice of me. I sometimes catch him kind of staring at me. But I'm not complaining. I'm glad to finally be getting some attention from my dad after all these years. I guess he just likes me better now that I'm more mature. Well, he was a man's man, and I guess he didn't have that much in common with a young boy, but now that I was almost a man. Well...

"How was your day with your father?" My mother asked me, when I got home.

"It was fantastic," I told her. And then I described all the things dad and I had done together, and I told her about my delicious dinner at the Lobster Shack. She didn't seem thrilled to hear all this.

"Let me ask you a question," she said. "If your father and I were to get a divorce, who would you go with?"

Wow. What a heavy question. How could I make a decision like that? It was like ripping myself in half. "I don't know," I told her honestly. She didn't say anything. She just went into her room and closed the door. I went into my room and tried to study my Chemistry.

The next day my mother comes out all bright and sunny and cheery. "Honey. You know what? Today is Sunday and there's a touring Broadway Musical in town. I'm gonna take you to see it. Would you like that?"

"Yes," I told her. I loved Broadway Musicals. I had only seen a couple of touring companies, it's true, but I had dozens and dozens of original cast albums reissued on CD's. All the great classics. Oklahoma. My Fair Lady. All the great ones. I wish I had been alive and in New York when they had first opened.

My mother went into her room to dress, and I put on my blue suit to go to the theatre. When my mother came out of her room, I almost fell over. She was so damn gorgeous. Her hair was so perfect. And her lips were so red and pouty. And she was wearing this short green skirt, with a form fitting green top that only came up to the top of her tits, which were spilling over. I was looking at my own mother and getting a hard-on. This was not good.

"Let's go," she said. So we got into her car and drove downtown. The show was incredibly wonderful. I loved it. I would have to buy the CD as soon as possible. My mother suggested we go to dinner at the local French restaurant, Chez Antoine. I had onion soup, and frog's legs, which I had never had before, but they were delicious. They were in this garlic tomato sauce which was so tasty. But at the next table, which was only 6 inches along the wall from our table, there was this guy. He was kind of burly and rough looking, but really good looking too. He was on the bench along the wall to my right, while my mother was in the chair across the table from me. This guy just kept looking at my mother's tits, and looking, and looking.

"How ya doin?" He asked my mother. He didn't even speak good English. He was not well-educated, that's for sure.

"Fine," said my mother. "And how are you doing?"

"Pretty good," he said. "When I'm sitting across from a pretty lady like you."

"Thank you," said my mother, smiling slightly and throwing her chest forward a little and kind of tossing her hair. She was fucking giving him the come-on.

"You got a real nice looking mother," the guy told me.

I didn't answer. I was really embarrassed by the whole thing. I guess she wanted to show me how attractive and desirable she was. But, fuck, I already knew that, didn't I?

I just sat there in silence as they talked and talked, and she told him that she was separated, and he told her that he was single, and was a union boss, and had an eight-room apartment in the Westfield Arms, the most expensive, high rise condominium in the whole state. He invited us to come up and see his fantastic apartment.

"No. Let's go home, mom," I said.

"No. I want to see Vito's fantastic luxury condominium. Let's go up to Vito's."

"Yeah. Come on, kid. I'm on the forty-fourth floor and I've got a terrace. What a view. You've never seen anything like it.

"Well, okay," I finally demurred. So we went up to Vito's. The fancy-dressed doorman opened the door for us and we walked down to a bank of elevators, one of which whisked us up in barely five seconds to the forty-fourth floor. When we got out of the elevator there were only two doors on the floor. Half of the whole forty-fourth floor was Vito's condo. I guess union bosses make big money. I didn't know if all that money was legal money, but probably not.

The place was like a palace. There was a living room, a dining room, 4 bedrooms, 4 baths. Wow. Vito led me out onto the terrace and I looked out onto the skyline. It was breathtaking. What a way to live. I could see that my mother was really impressed, and she was starting to be very kittenish with Vito. That I didn't like. She was still my father's wife, after all. I thought her behavior was a little inappropriate, flirting with this super-masculine, and handsome, and rich, but lower class dude.

Vito left me on the terrace staring into the starry skies, and looking down at the tops of all the other buildings. Meanwhile, he went back into the living room, and I could see he was fixing drinks. Finally I had had enough of the skyline and I wandered back through the glass doors into the living room. Vito and my mother were sitting side by side on the couch. Very close. His leg was pressed against hers. I could see he had an erection inside his pants. Great. Vito thought he was going to fuck my mother. Not if I could help it.

I kept suggesting that we should go, but Vito kept saying "No. No. The night is young." And he kept filling my mother's glass.

Around eleven thirty, I tried again. "Mom, we should really go home."

"Yesshhh," she slurred. She was drunk. Great. "I'm a little tipsy. I'm not sure I can drive."

"I can drive," I told her.

"No. I won't let you drive my car. You know that. I'll drive. He's had three accidents," she explained to Vito.

"I got a suggestion," said Vito. "I got a big empty place here. I got three empty bedrooms. Stay here for the night. You can go home tomorrow."

"Stay here?" asked my mother. "No. We wouldn't want to put you out."

"Don't be silly," said Vito. You're not putting me out. I have a housekeeper who comes in and cleans and changes all the linens and does the laundry. I want you to stay. It's late, and if you had an accident on the road, I would never forgive myself.

My mother accepted his offer, so what was I to do? He brought her to the pink bedroom right next to the master bedroom, his own. And he put me directly across the hall from my mother in the yellow bedroom.

"I don't have my nightgown," said my mother.

"Waaa? What kinda nightgown you need? Who's gonna see you? Right?"

"Right," said my mother and then she laughed, and then Vito laughed. I was the only one who was not laughing. I guess maybe I don't have a good sense of humor or something.

My mother went into her room and shut the door. I stood in the hall as Vito retreated into the master bedroom and shut the door. Only then did I shut my own door. I stripped and got into the bed. It was a great bed. One of those expensive Swedish sleeping systems. Much more comfortable than my own bed. It was so comfortable, yet I wasn't drifting off to sleep. Why was that? Was I subconsciously waiting for something to happen?

After a little while, I could swear I heard the door of the master bedroom open, and I could swear I heard footsteps coming down the hall in my direction. Was he coming into my room? No. He didn't come into my room. That could only mean one thing. He had gone into the pink bedroom. The pink bedroom where my mother was lying naked without a nightgown. I didn't know what to do. I just lay there paralyzed for more than fifteen minutes. Finally I decided to take a peek. I tiptoed to the door of my room and stealthily cracked the door open. I peaked through the opening. The door of the master bedroom was wide open and the light was on. The door to my mother's room was semi-closed, kind of ajar, and I could hear noises coming from behind the door. What should I do? Should I look? Should I not look? This was so upsetting. I decided I had to see for myself. I pushed slightly on the half-open door and peeked into the pink bedroom.

They were rollicking on the big bed. All the blankets had been thrown to the floor. He was also naked. He had a great muscular body and also a big hard-on. He was squeezing her tits and licking her nipples, and she was writhing all around, making "mmmmmmm" sounds. I froze in position just outside the door, but peeking in. Then he moved his hand to my mother's pussy and began stroking it up and down, and even inserting his long middle finger, and frigging her with it.

"mmmmmmmmmm," moaned my mother.

""What a nice sweet pussy. It's all wet for me, isn't it?

"mmmmmmmmmmmm."

"It wants Vito to fuck it. It wants Vito to slide his big stiff prick into it and plow it. Isn't that what your pussy wants?"

"mmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

Which I guess meant that it did.

Then Vito crawled down between my mother's smooth thighs and parted them. He gazed adoringly at the delicate lips of her cunt, and immediately began to run his tongue up and down them. Then he inserted his tongue, while rubbing her little button with his left thumb. Her ass was stretching up off the mattress toward his lips and tongue.

"mmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

Fuck. I had such a fucking hard-on. I was watching this ill-bred strange man about to fuck my mother and I was crazy with lust.

"Suck my dick, baby," he told her. He moved up and knelt astride her bosom, as he fed his giant cock into my mother's mouth.

'MMMMMMMMM" She was going crazy over his cock. She loved sucking his cock. She nursed on it as if it were a baby bottle, and then she just lay back with her mouth wide open and let him slam it deep into her throat.

"Oh, baby. What a great cocksucker you are. You should have told me. Suck it. Suck it."

The saliva was pouring out of her open mouth, or maybe the sheer cubic footage volume of his penis was displacing it, but it was running down her chin in a steady stream.

"Okay, baby. Ready to get fucked?" he asked her.

"mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," she answered. So he withdrew his cock from her mouth and lifted himself off her chest and moved down to a lower position.

Now he was between her splayed legs, and from where I was standing, I could see his powerful ass, his large swinging balls, and about nine inches of wet dick positioned at the entrance to my mother's pussy. And then he sent it home.

"mmmmmmmmmmmm. Aaaarrrrrrggggghhhh," screamed my mother. "Fuck me. Fuck me."

I could take no more of this. I pushed the door further open and stood there aghast. "Stop this," I said. "Who told you, you could fuck my mother?"

"Your mother did," said Vito, smiling as I entered the room.

"Oh, god! Martin. Get out. Get out."

"Mother. How could you?" I asked her.

"Oh, god! He'll tell my husband and I won't get anything in the divorce settlement." Now my mother was really frantic.

"No. He's a good boy. He won't say anything. Will you, kid?"

I didn't answer. I fully intended to tell my father everything.

"And look at that big boner he's sporting. I think maybe he likes to see big Vito plowing his mother's pretty pussy. Don't you, kid?"

"No," I said petulantly.

"Sure you do. Just look at that hard-on. Look at your kid's pecker, baby. Isn't it a nice one?"

My mother looked at my pecker, which really was a nice one, and I could see she was impressed.

"Oh, baby," she said.

"I think we should let the kid stay and watch me fuck you," he told her.

My mother started shaking her head from side to side violently. She didn't want that.

"Come on, kid. Sit here on the bed next to me so you can get a good look," and he patted his palm on the mattress. I guess I was so shocked by all this that I had lost all my senses. I was like some alien automaton. I sat on the bed and looked at my mother's quivering pussy, which Vito was stroking again with his middle finger. He climbed above her and began to copulate. They were both making obscene noises. I think I was pulling on my dick a little. I'm not exactly sure. I can't exactly remember every detail.

After a few minutes, my mother got so caught up in being penetrated that I think she forgot I was in the room.

"Fuck me. Fuck me," she screamed. "Ohhhhh. Yessssss!"

Vito was really slamming it to her. But then something strange happened. He reached out his left hand and circled my hard dick, and began to gently agitate it.

"Kneel next to the pillow," he told me. I did as he said. He turned my mother's face toward my erection. "Suck on it," he told her. "Suck on your boy's stiff dick."

"No," she protested.

"I said suck it, goddamn it," he shouted.

And my god! That's just exactly what she did. Suddenly her lips were around my cock, and my mother was sucking me off. It felt fantastic. I reached down and began to massage one of her tits, as I moved my hips back and forth sending my cock pistoning within her mouth.

Then another crazy thing happened. As they were fucking, Vito turned her face away leaving my cock swaying in mid air. But only for a second, because then he brought it over to his own mouth and began sucking on my dick. Wow. And he was a better cocksucker than my mother. Much more suction. It was terrific.