Barry's Sluts Ch. 01: SuzannabyLordOfHell©
This story is an interquel to "Ariadne's Dreams", my first series on this site. It takes place after Ch. 02 of that story, and runs concurrently from there until it eventually overlaps the first story's ending. This one takes place from Barry's perspective and describes what happened during his six months in Fresno after he and his mother made love for the first time. I intend this story to be somewhat more serious, and there'll probably be fewer love scenes, at least in the beginning.
Originally, I had planned for this to be Ch.01 of another series, but eventually, the story took off in a direction all its own. For that reason, rather than each installment being numbered, I decided to base its subtitle on the female lead.
I hope you enjoy it, and please, don't hesitate to vote and comment!
-Edited version: 1.1-
Barry Garrett had one hell of a problem.
Outwardly, he appeared no different from your average eighteen-year-old: at six feet even, he was perhaps above-average in height, and exceptionally fit, but just like most carefree youths, he listened to headphones far too loud, wore his faded jeans a full pants size too big, and sported t-shirts with famous videogame emblems on them. He was an avid comic book reader, videogame fan, and rock listener. Strictly speaking, nothing distinguished him from any other boy in his age group. And yet, seated on a plane bound for Fresno, California, he felt entirely alone—practically an outcast. Self-centered angst—the belief that no one in the world would understand his problems—wasn't exactly unheard for a teenager, but for Barry, this was not merely a deluded adolescent belief. It was fact.
What was so special about Barry? What problem could he have possibly possessed that set him apart from nearly everyone else in the world?
Simple. He had fucked his own mother.
And yes, she was his own blood mother. The woman who had given birth to him. The woman who had raised him all eighteen years of his life. He had fucked her right in her own bed, and pumped his own potent semen directly into her pussy. She wanted him to do it—hell, she had begged him to do it.
But if so, why did he feel so confused about it?
He loved her with all his heart, and a large reason why he gave a damn about college in the first place was all for her. He didn't even know what he wanted to study for yet—if he'd had his own way, he would have waited a few years before going back to school, maybe getting a shitty little job somewhere until he forged a niche for himself. But, his mother wouldn't hear of it. She wanted him to stay in school so that he wouldn't run the risk of going into debt or getting some girl pregnant and become unable to go back to school later. Plus, she maintained, it was good to go now while most students were still his own age, so he could make some friends.
Yeah, right. Since he'd gone to this stupid school, he hadn't even made a single friend. He hated that school, and he hated that damn city. With all his soul.
For the moment, though, he treasured this plane ride. The five-hour flight from Chicago to Fresno gave him the chance to think things over, to gain a fresh perspective. There was a bit of irony there—his mother hated planes.
Eleven years ago, his father, Stewart Garrett, had died in a relatively short plane ride on a return trip from Philadelphia. Ever since, Barry's mother Ariadne had developed aerophobia—an irrational hatred for planes. She claimed that they had stolen the love of her life from her, and she had begged Barry not to ride one, to pick a school close enough to drive from home.
But he wasn't having any of that. If planes "murdered" his father, then it only made sense that the son "avenge" him, right? It sounded silly, but Barry had seen for over a decade what fear had done to his mother. Losing her husband had made her afraid to get close to anyone. She became more and more withdrawn, until her social abilities were considerably lacking. Barry knew all too well how fear could cripple, how fear could control.
At one time, Ariadne had dreamed of seeing the world—Stewart had been working fiercely at for his company, determined to save enough to travel as a family someday—and then, all of those dreams petered out after his death. In a cruel twist of irony, the money Barry and his mother got from his dad's life insurance would have been more than enough to complete Ariadne's long-held dream of globe-trotting.
But she didn't want any of it now. She had said that without Stewart, it felt completely meaningless. And even if it weren't, she refused to set foot on an airplane. They had destroyed her life once, and she'd never let them do it again.
His mother deserved better, Barry thought with a clenched brow. He refused to let fear beat his family. He would "avenge" his Dad. He didn't care how silly that sounded—it was how he felt. He refused to be beaten by fear.
That was how much he loved his mother. And now, faced with what they'd done, he had to rethink exactly what that love meant. He certainly hadn't planned to make love to her . . . it just kind of happened. He had never thought of his mother in that light before, but now, sifting through his memories with retrospect, he realized that she really was a beautiful woman. Her lengthy brown hair, her soft green eyes, and her curvaceous figure . . . he got hard now just from thinking about her.
He had long since come to one conclusion: without a doubt, he had enjoyed what they did. Sadly, before that experience, he had been a virgin. He had heard that most first-times were supposed to be awkward and clumsy, but with his mom, it was like he had known exactly what to do. At first, he was a bit nervous, but the moment he had felt his mother's velvety lips around his cock, he settled down. He never knew that oral could feel so amazing, but his mother was amazing at it. She sucked his dick like a true wanton slut, and the thrill of seeing his own mother's lips around his erection couldn't be described.
He couldn't believe what he was doing when he followed his naked mother onto her bed, crawled over her, and began feasting on her breasts. He'd never even touched a woman's tits before, and his mother's were so enormous and plump, he couldn't get enough. He relished their plushness . . . how they conformed to his hands each time he squeezed. He consumed them with his mouth, streaking his tongue across her areolae, flicking her nipples with his tongue.
After a while, he barely even registered that it was his mother he was doing this to—and even the odd moment when it struck him, it only charged him with greater excitement. His mother was splayed across her bed, legs spread, with her gorgeous pussy inviting him inside. He could barely stand it when he finally slid in her hole, her pleas to be fucked only driving his lust to the brink of insanity. He could feel her hips angle themselves, helping his cock work itself deeper. The walls of her pussy gripped his cock tightly, forcing him to sink deeper inside.
Her pelvis rotated, finding a smooth rhythm. Her body language urging him to fuck her. Barry couldn't stand more than a few seconds of it. He yearned to fuck his mother, as much as she yearned to be fucked by her one-and-only.
And that's when she said it.
"Take me. Take me and make me yours."
Those words, in that low breathless tone, were impossible for any man to ignore, kin or not. Son or not. She was a woman that needed to be fucked within an inch of her life . . . and he had aims to do it.
Barry lost all reason, giving into his body's needs, lost to the feeling inside his mother's warm pussy. Whether this was right or wrong didn't matter to him; the only thing he cared about was fucking her as hard and rigorously as possible. If she wanted to be treated like an animal, he aimed to please. He mounted her like a stallion and pounded his hips, pushing her as deep against the mattress as he could manage.
She went crazy—he could feel her pussy trickling with every orgasm, and it only spurred him to fuck her faster. He tapped into every possible reserve he could reach, pouring every ounce of energy into fucking. He didn't think, he didn't speak . . . his mind had regressed about fifty thousand years, focusing on nothing but the primal urge to spread his seed in the most requisite pussy available.
And in this case, that pussy belonged to his own mother.
She cried out, called his name, called him 'son', and it only propelled his lust higher. She begged him to cum inside of her.
"But . . . but . . ."
"Please, do it. I need it, Barry. I need to feel it inside me."
Her urging made his balls tighten. His last resistance faded.
"Tell me again, mom. Tell me again."
"Fuck your mommy and cum inside her. Fuck your slut. Cum deep inside her pussy. Fill it up. Fill my pussy with your thick seed. Fuck it all into me!"
And he did. He poured every bit of seed he could into her cunt before he collapsed on top of her, burying his cheek into her breast.
Which had led him here. Now, as Barry sat on this plane, a sense of dread filled him. A nervousness about what that one moment of carnal pleasure would spell for his future. When he had fucked her, it was pure instinct—his brain had turned completely off, and he wasn't within his right mind, so maybe that could have been used as some sort of excuse. Except as he sat now, with total mental clarity, he wasn't worried that would happen again. No . . . he was worried that it wouldn't.
Barry knew right then that he wanted his mother's cunt again. If things were left up to him, he would turn this plane around and fill her with his spunk again right now. He would play with those marvelous tits every single day, and feel those soft, juicy lips on his cock.
But was this even normal? Was it right for a boy to be so in love with his mother's body?
By the time his plane landed in Fresno, Barry knew what he needed to do. He needed to 'grow up'. He needed to evolve himself so that the next time he came home, he would no doubts about what he aimed for. The next time he stepped off the plane in Chicago, he needed to be direct and confident about what he wanted, and he had to expel all shyness and uncertainties. He needed to step off that plane a new man, determined about fucking his mother once and for all.
But, of course, he also needed to know how his mother felt about it all. There was a possibility that, after coming down from the throes of passion, she regretted what they had done, and she would be reluctant to continue. He needed to be prepared for that, as well: to convince her otherwise, if possible . . . and to deal with the disappointment, if not.
The university student housing was composed of a community of one-floor flats—effectively, they were miniature homes with a kitchen, living room, and between two to four bedrooms. In Barry's case, he was (un)fortunate enough to live in one of the four-bedroom flats.
The moment he opened the door, the pungent smell of sex slapped his face. Barry turned to his right, finding what was . . . to him . . . a fairly unsurprising sight.
"Heeeeeey! Look who's home!" called the naked Dominic, the first of Barry's roommates. All at once, four other sets of eyes turned to look, each of them on a body every bit as nude. On the couch, straddled atop Dominic, Barry recognized Trena, and behind her, he recognized the bronze buttocks of Andre, roommate number two. And to her left, thrusting his cock into her mouth, was Simon, his third and final roommate.
When Trena recognized him, she bore him a friendly welcome, appearing nonchalant of the two dicks buried in her ass and pussy. "Oh hey, Barry," she said quickly, before Simon once again plugged her mouth with his shaft.
Barry didn't answer—not that there was any reason to. Dom and Dre had begun a rhythm again, and Trena was squealing loudly as Simon fucked her face. The two dicks in her holes slid in and out of her pussy with two different timings. Sometimes, when Dom was going up into her pussy, Dre's was pulling out of her ass. Then, her hips would rise up on Dom's shaft while Dre's dark cock push deep into her rectum. Trena was obviously getting a charge out of it—Barry had seen them in this exact same arrangement many times in the past few weeks.
Barry walked past the living room and into the kitchen, craving an ice cold beer after his long plane ride. Yet, when he swung the fridge door open and peered inside, all he could find was an empty Michelob box.
"Oooooh, sorry, dude," Dom said, even as Trena's tits bounced inches from his face, "we kinda helped ourselves to your shit while you were out. We figured we could replace it by the time you got back from Chi and it'd be no harm, no foul. But, ah, as you can see . . . we got a little caught up, heh."
Angry as he was, Barry was he was far too exhausted and far too used to it to make a fuss.
"It's cool," he said, closing the fridge and heading toward his room.
"Hey, come on man," Dom called out, "I don't want you to feel we wronged you. Come over here and get some of this. Some good pussy'll make you feel better."
"No thanks," Barry replied.
"For real, dude. Trena certainly wouldn't mind another cock over here, would you, baby?"
Trena pulled her head away from Simon's shaft only long enough to say "uh-uh" before she was right back to it.
"Like I said, no thanks," Barry said as he closed his door.
As Barry threw himself on his bed, he couldn't figure out which was worse—that Dominic was perhaps being insincere about the offer, or that he was being completely sincere about it and had no clue how spiteful it really felt.
Three months ago, Barry met this cute little Chinese sweetheart named Trena in his English class, and asked her out. They had some good times every now and again, and Barry thought for sure that he and Trena were going to hit it off and maybe explore a deeper relationship. Slowly, they grew steadily more involved, and one day, he invited Trena over to his dorm. When Trena got here, the rest of the pack descended upon her like vultures. Barry and Trena hardly got to spend any time with each other as his roommates worked their game. Trena, who had arrived already horny and probably eager to give Barry his first fuck, didn't stand a chance. Before she knew it, she was stripped naked, her mouth, ass and pussy stuffed by each of Barry's roommates.
Apparently, she'd hoped that Barry would find it hot, and she tried to entice him to join in. At first, Barry watched, but seeing the mesmerized look in her eye as she drank his roommates' jizz and let them empty in her ass and pussy was, in fact, the deal breaker. He knew then that Trena would never be his again; she belonged to Dominic, Andre and Simon's cocks. From that point on, he had lost all interest in Trena.
But naturally, she still came by at least twice a week, usually in the evening when she knew all three boys would be there. They hardly even spoke a word anymore; things had just become common practice that whenever Trena showed up, everyone just automatically began to fuck.
The flimsy wooden door failed to drown out the guys' cheers and Trena's wailing orgasms. He could hear them as they shifted positions, probably with Simon getting his turn in her pussy while Dom took her ass and she sucked Dre's dick clean. Barry could plainly hear the 'smack smack smack' as one of the boys—from the shouting, it sounded like Dom—pounded Trena's ass cheeks. Her muffled squeals would sound through the dorm, growing louder when a cock pulled out, and then muffled again when another took its place.
"Oh yeah! Cum in my mouth, Andre! I wanna eat your cum, baby!" she shouted. Seconds later, Barry heard Andre's baritone groans as he apparently fulfilled the little slut's wish.
Just his luck, Barry's iPod had run out of juice on the plane, leaving him with nothing to block out the sound. There was nothing left for him to do except pull out a comic and try to read in peace, although Trena's constant screaming over the next two hours certainly made that a challenge.
The next day, Barry headed over to the Office of Student Employment at the Administration Building. Since coming up with his plan on the plane ride, he was eager to get it underway as soon as possible. Haste was especially important because he was already in the second half a semester, and if there were even any chances for internships left, they could be gone before he knew it.
When Barry stepped from the elevator, he searched for anything that resembled the office he needed, finally coming across some wide doors which led him to a web of cubicles. It looked like the right place, but there was no way to be sure until he asked the work study seated behind the reception desk.
"Hi," he asked the cute blonde typing at the computer keyboard, "is this the Office of Student Employment?"
"Yes it is," the girl said, taking her eyes away from the monitor and casting her soft blues in his direction. "How can I help you?" She motioned to the chair opposite of her desk, and Barry took a seat.
"Well, I'm looking for an internship," he said, getting straight to the point.
She smiled warmly, a well-practiced smile which showcased her gorgeous set of dimples. It worked like magic on Barry's tension, practically urging him to lower his defenses and feel at ease. Very skillful amounts of eye show enhanced her gaze with a supernaturally sexy glint. Her flaxen blonde fringe, cut into a bob style to perfectly frame her amazing features, was perfectly styled and groomed, with nary an ounce of displacement.
If that weren't enough, the baby blue dress she wore gave a perfect sampling of her round, supple tits through its v-cut collar. She wore the top of the dress so that it fell off her shoulders evenly, granting the observer even more of her cream-colored skin to admire.
Barry had never seen a more provocative creature in his entire life.
"Well, one of our counselors could surely help you with that," she said, answering his request. "Which field are you planning to intern for?"
"Er . . . psychology," Barry answered, not willing to delve any deeper than that.
"Oh," she said with a flash of disappointment. "Actually, I think we don't have any psychology internships available." Her juicy red lips pouted. "But, I could check with our Psych counselor, if you're willing to wait a moment."
"Yes, please do," he pleaded her.
Again, she beamed, her dazzling smile somehow brightening the whole room. She stood from her chair, pushing her obscenely short dress down a smidge, only barely covering her ass, as she disappeared into the maze of cubicles. Barry was unaware of his own actions as stared at the exiting blonde, her hard red heels click-clacking on the laminated floor and her hips swaying as the edge of her dress lifted to peek at her panties. He had only known this girl for about twenty seconds, but he could already tell that there was something strange about her . . . she certainly didn't seem like your average work-study . . . or even the average student for that matter.
By the laws of nature, it shouldn't be possible for anyone to look that sexy.
She returned a few minutes later, her crimson lips once again in a pout. "I'm sorry, it seems we are all out of psych internships. I suggest that you talk to the Director of the Psychology Department to place your name on her list of internship seekers."
Barry's heart sank. "Any idea how long that'll take?"
Her eyes lowered, signaling bad news before she even spoke. "Based on what I know? She'll probably contact you in a few weeks, but you won't hear promising anything until July. Psychology is a popular major at this school, so most of those positions are filled before the school year even begins."