My Mom’s Secret, Part 2: Living A Lie
Introduction:
A 10-Part story about a son’s fantasy, a mother’s betrayal, and a secret that the two would share.
I stayed at my friend Colin’s place again that night and went right to work the next day from there. I worked as a waiter and bartender at a popular sports bar a few miles down the road from where I lived. I graduated with a journalism degree from college, but getting a job in that field was impossible. I started tending bar my Senior year and was able to stash away a ton of money living at home in those two years since graduating. The plan was to move to a bigger city with Colin in January when his lease was up. As much as I enjoyed living rent free, I was also itching to move in with someone my age.
For a Friday night it wasn’t too busy at the bar. I got home at around 10:30 pm, and as usual, I was greeted warmly by my Mother when I walked in.
“Hey Sean! How are you hunnie?” My Mom yelled from the living room. The last time I heard her voice before this, she was confirming plans to get fucked by a twenty-something-year-old big dicked stud. I was thrown off.
“I’m okay,” I replied, but it was barely a yell. I tossed my duffle bag in my bedroom and walked down the hallway to the living room. My Mom was up off the couch walking towards me, and she noticed a look of discontent on my face.
“What’s wrong bud?” She asked me as she reached me. She stood on her tip-toes to kiss me on the cheek. I had to snap out of this funk though, or at least not let on that I knew what she did.
“Amanda and I broke up last night,” I told them. My Dad offered his condolences from the couch — he was a quiet, kept-to-himself guy who worked a ton and just wanted to quietly unwind when he was at home — but my Mom went right in for a big hug.
“Oh I’m so sorry Sean. What happened?”
“Eh, we just both realized that there wasn’t really a future for us. It’s okay.”
“That’s such a bummer! I’m really sorry.”
She sounded sincere, but I knew she didn’t care that much. I knew she was lying, just like she was lying to my father, going behind his back while he worked long hours as a General Manager at a car dealership, bringing home around $200,000 a year while she perfected being a homemaker and cock sucker.
“It’s alright, I’m just gonna go grab a shower and then try to get some sleep.”
“Okay, just let us know if you need anything,” she said as she hugged me and kissed me again on the cheek. I tried not to resist, but I knew where those lips were, and I knew where they were going to be on Monday.
After a long shower I retreated to my bedroom for the night. I worked the late shift on Saturday night, and it was a good thing I wasn’t needed any earlier, because I was up all night. Not only could I not get the various explicit images of my Mother out of my head even if I tried, but I didn’t want to. I was still furious and disgusted by her; I didn’t expect that feeling would ever fade. But from the time I crawled out of my bedroom window the previous day, I didn’t stop thinking about what I had just seen … and it wasn’t all terrible. I couldn’t deny that I was turned on by it too.
I needed to know more. I logged onto Facebook and searched through every single one of my Mom’s 347 friends, but there wasn’t a single Dylan or Dillon on her list of friends. That meant I was required to search through all Dylan’s and Dillon’s in the Southwest Florida area: Fort Myers, Cape Coral, Naples, Bonita, Port Charlotte. After not too long I found him … Dylan Burr, 24 years old, Naples, Florida. I was exactly one day older than him.
I did more digging: Dylan Burr grew up in Miami, Florida but moved to Valdosta, Georgia when he was 18 to play for the Valdosta State University Blazers football team. He was twice an All-Gulf South Conference Tight End. After college he moved back to Miami, then apparently with a friend to the opposite coast, about 30 minutes from us, and he is currently working, like me, as a bartender at a popular bar, only in Naples instead of Fort Myers.
What I couldn’t figure out is how this good looking, athletic, seemingly very popular kid my own age, who probably got whatever girl he wanted when he was in college, was now apparently regularly fucking my 56 year old Mother. Right there and then I considered messaging him on Facebook and asking him, but again, I didn’t want to be a cock block, and I didn’t want to run the risk of messaging him and then not being able to eventually prove that my Mom was cheating on my Dad.
I did my best to avoid contact with my Mom over the weekend, just as a precaution, but Sunday dinner put me in a situation where I was stuck sitting at a table with her and my Dad for an hour. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for my Dad, and both enraged and turned on by my Mom. I was conflicted to say the least.
Things only got more uneasy, at least for me internally, when my Mom began prodding about when I was working the following day.
So you work 12 to 8 tomorrow right?
You don’t think you’ll leave work early, do you?
Patrick, you’re working until 8 o’clock too, right? Maybe one of you could bring home dinner tomorrow. What should we have?
I couldn’t help but wonder how many other times she fished around like this. Knowing what I knew, it was obvious why she was asking so many questions. She was covering her tracks, trying to ensure that her and Dylan wouldn’t be interrupted. I played along, letting her believe that I was working. I even offered to bring home pizza for dinner to make her feel more secure. What she didn’t know was that I had already switched shifts with a co-worker, giving him my 12 to 8 on Monday and taking his 12 to 8 on Wednesday, and I would have a front row seat for the dicking she was anticipating so much.
Monday morning rolled around and I left the house at 11:15. As usual, my Mom hugged me and kissed me on the cheek to say goodbye. I have to admit, she did a better job of acting than I would have ever expected she could have given the circumstances. I left home and went directly to the clubhouse and waited patiently. 45 minutes later, Dylan pulled in. He got out of his car and started walking towards my house with a certain sort of noticeable arrogant confidence that pissed me off … it was typical frat boy swagger. He was on his way to to give a MILF the kind of fucking that her husband couldn’t, and he knew it.
I waited about fifteen minutes before I drove back over, parking in the driveway of the same vacant home I did the last time my Mom and Dylan spent an afternoon together. I again crept through a number of backyards until I got to my own. Unlike the last time I caught them, this time they were just getting started.
I peaked through the same small crack in bottom corner of the blinds that I did a few days earlier, and the first thing I saw was my topless Mom, still in her yoga pants, kneeling down on the floor, pulling Dylan’s gym shorts down around his ankles. He was sitting at the foot of the bed, his shirt off and his cock already standing at attention just inches away from her sexy aged face. She moved her hands down his muscular torso until she grabbed hold of his dick with both hands.
She started by kissing the tip of his cock the same way she kissed me on the cheek an hour prior to say goodbye; probably the same way she gave my father a peck on the lips as he left for work earlier in the morning. She looked up at him with a disgusting, sexy smile. Then her mouth opened slightly wider and with each kiss her tongue grazed and teased his tip. He seemed to be loving it, and he loved it even more when she began to suck on his balls and lick his shaft up and down, up and down with the kind of passion you’d see from the most seasoned porn star.
Eventually the licking turned into full-blown sucking; nearly his entire cock engulfed in my Mom’s mouth and throat, up and down, making it disappear and re-appear over and over again. I had never seen a deepthroating like that before … so effortless and intense, like she needed and craved his cock for her mouth more than anything else in the world.
It seemed like she sucked his cock for an eternity, but in reality only ten minutes had gone by. At that point, Dylan grabbed her underneath the arms and lifted her in the air, up onto his lap. He scooted them both back onto the middle of the bed and without little hesitation, he plunged his cock into her old wet pussy and relentlessly pounded away. She was screaming and moaning; if someone had just heard the noises she was making it would be hard to tell if she was loving it or hating it. But as I watched it was increasingly clear that she was enjoying it more and more with each thrust.
For nearly an hour I watched as they fucked in a number of positions. My Mom was bending and contorting in ways I didn’t know that a 56 year old woman could, but I suppose having a massive young cock inside her allowed her to do unexpected things with her body. She spent at least 10 straight minutes bouncing up and down on him; that was after he fucked her doggy-style for 15 minutes.
To finish, Dylan flipped my Mom onto her back like she was a ragdoll, spread her legs wide open and straight up in the air, and penetrated her as hard and fast as I imagine he could until he busted inside of her pussy. They both let out lustful moans as he filled her up, and she clutched and scratched his back, pulling him in closer as he finished emptying inside her. It was passionate and disgusting and erotic and so sexy all at once.
They weren’t finished though. Not even close. In total, Dylan was at our house for a little over four hours. They fucked one more time in her bed (and this time he finished in her eager mouth), and I’m assuming they did a third time when they disappeared into the bathroom for almost an hour. By the time Dylan started getting ready to leave, I was drenched in sweat after standing in the Florida sun for a few hours. Like I did four days earlier, I sprinted back to my car and drove back to the clubhouse parking lot, just waiting for him to get back to his car so I could confront him.
I sat in my car for over twenty minutes waiting for him, air conditioner blasting, trying to prep what exactly I would say to him. There was no guidebook on how to approach someone who you saw fucking your Mom, nor was this something I had ever imagined having to do. I couldn’t do anything but replay everything I had seen them doing together in my head, and just like I had been the previous week, I was equally turned on and pissed off. But in that moment I realized I was capable of feeling both of those emotions at once, which was a good thing because I actually enjoyed feeling this way.
I didn’t necessarily want my Mom to stop getting fucked, but I also felt compelled to get even with her for betraying my father and myself. Ultimately, what I realized I wanted to get out of this situation was control of it all. I wanted to control who she fucked and when she was getting fucked. I wanted to watch it happen in the room, not outside through the blinds.
So rather than blow things up right away, I decided I would be patient. I would let her and Dylan continue their affair until I figured out how I would insert myself into her secret, making it our secret.
