Bully Gets Wimp's Mother Ch. 02

Once again, this is fake, you know... fantasy. If any mother actually does what this one does, she should go to jail and as if it needs to mentioned, bullies tend to be weak-individuals who lack something in the man junk department and try to make up for it by hurting others(wow, kind of a blanket statement on my part...oh well).

Also, if you haven't read part one you will not have the foggiest idea of what is going on here, so go find it and read it. For those who did read and/or comment on the first part...thanks, I deeply appreciate it. With that being said, I hope you all find this as titillating as I do. Enjoy!

*

Olivia, still shaken, could not believe what she had said to her son's bully in that alley. Close to 24 hours later and she now felt ashamed that she had betrayed her son in that way, even though she still enjoyed the lingering flashes back to the orgasm she felt at the hands of her son's bully.

She spent yesterday at the emergency room -- again -- as apparently Tim's arm did re-fracture when his cast broke against the curb of the street. He arrived late, hobbling in and sobbing after lying in the street, writhing in pain, for about a half an hour before he pitifully picked up his bag and went to school.

The principle called Tim over when he spied him finally stepping on campus. His heart went out to him as he called an ambulance and the boy's mother. Tim felt reassured as the man showed an overt amount of sympathy... more sympathy than his mother did, when she arrived at the hospital.

Confusing the anger she felt at Tim for being such a perceived waste of manhood and the anger she had toward herself for not interfering with the violence perpetrated upon him, (after all, didn't she just stand there, witnessing the torture from across the street, feeling herself turn on in a way that she hadn't since she was in high school -- when she was always manipulating the bigger and rougher boys into inflicting pain on weaker shits), she wasn't in a good mood at all. Standing in the emergency room, waiting for x-rays and re-castings of the arm and anything else the doctors wished to see, all she could do was feel put out and put upon.

What added to the entire situation and made it all so much worse, for her, was that while her son wallowed in pain and humiliation, she was crying out in orgasmic bliss at the hands of the bully -- screaming for him to hurt her son as she came harder than she had in years.

Driving Tim home from the hospital, she looked at him for a moment and then muttered, "maybe you should stop antagonizing him."

"What?" he exclaimed in shock.

"You heard me. Stop making him hurt you."

Tim began crying.

"Is that going to solve anything? STOP acting like a little pussy and STOP pissing him off and maybe you'll STOP getting beat on. Jesus Christ, you are such a wimp; you never defend yourself and then you come sniveling to me OR your father OR the principle about it," she spat.

Her son sobbed and tried plying his excuses.

"JUST SHUT UP!" She screamed. "I can't handle this anymore. Settle your own problems or keep away from him, but stop going to other people to fix your business. It is not anyone's problem but your own and the more you share the more pathetic you seem and then I have to be embarrassed by you. Just stop!"

She drove silently the rest of the way home, Olivia not understanding anymore than her son as to what just happened. She definitely was no longer up for any mother of the year awards. Especially since she could not deny that there was a certain arousing sensation she experienced when she was yelling at Tim.

Removing the keys from the ignition, she turned toward him as he opened the car door. Grabbing his closest arm -- his broken arm -- she pulled him back and he screamed in pain.

"Don't try talking to your father about any of this. I mean it. Do you understand me?"

He sniffled as he looked at the rage on her face. It frightened him.

"Answer me, Tim, do you understand me?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Good. Now go straight up to your room and don't come down again tonight."

He ran inside and up the stairs and she knew that he did as he was told, as she heard his bedroom door slamming in an angry retort. She could care less about that right now though...let him sulk. As long as he didn't do it around her or disturb her for the next thirty minutes or so.

Gliding into the master bedroom, Olivia closed the door. Ripping the zipper of her skirt down, she stepped out of it as it hit the ground and yanked her panties down. Lying back on the bed, she brought her hand down to her incredibly juicy cunt and began to rub hard.

"I haven't been this wet since high school," she muttered as she felt her juices squish. Lying back, Olivia commenced manipulating her pussy, her hand a blur.

There was no desire in her to even play at slowness as she rammed three fingers immediately into her hairy twat and finger fucked herself hard. Repeatedly ramming herself, hard enough to cause bruising, she raised her legs by bringing her feet up on the bed to her ass.

Moaning loud, she was neither cognizant nor empathetic of whether her son could hear her or not.

"Oh fuck, yes, come on, cum you wet bitch!" she screamed, almost hoping the wimp could hear her and realize that pushing him around turned her on. Her motherly instincts did not even exist right now, they were shoved deep within herself, as a darkness raised its horny head and took control; and this darkness turned her the fuck on.

She gripped hard, squeezing her cunt, attempting to imitate the way the bully had handled her. Moving her palm against her clit, Olivia pushed her hand down hard, rubbing in an intense and speedy blur, spreading her legs out and then closing them, gripping her hand as she came.

But this wasn't just a normal orgasm. She intensified the experience as the familiar stirrings started to hit by flashing through images in her mind of the bully hurting Tim and then her hurting and humiliating him. Olivia gasped as she threw her pelvis in the air, straining in orgasm as thick white liquid flowed out of her twat -- this is how she squirted, when she did -- but that hadn't happened since she was eighteen. She shook, uncontrollably, as the flow increased and then ended, seeing her fall back to the bed breathing hard.

"Oh my God! Oh fuck!" Olivia gasped as she tried to catch her breath, her abdomen rising and lowering quickly.

She could hear Tim crying through the wall of her bedroom and realized that he probably heard her and haphazardly connected some dots.

"What the fuck is wrong with me," she gasped as she lie there, spread out and spent.

The very same words whispered out of her mouth as she prepared Tim's breakfast. The guilt she felt resulted in an extra effort in the preparations for breakfast. She wanted to make it up to her son, with a big meal, especially since she felt a little dark again last night and would not let him come out of his room and have dinner. She lied to her husband and told him that she had already given it to him and that he was busy with a homework assignment and needed to be left alone so he could complete it.

Tim looked at her fearfully, and ate very little. The waste of food pissed her off a little, but after a good night's sleep, she regained control of her feelings and was now able to suppress her anger toward Tim. Realizing what she had done, Olivia knew that she would have to work very hard at winning back his trust.

'What about the bully?' she wondered, and what the hell was his name -- she never discovered his name.

She definitely was not going to take him up on his offer. She had to straighten her head out. Not only getting off on her son being bullied but then getting off on doing some of the bullying, herself, had to stop. What the hell was she thinking anyway, yelling at her son -- hurting him? Was her dark side trying to put him in his place or trying to protect her lover?

"What the fuck???" Her lover? Since when? He attacked her...it was far from consensual and would not happen again, under any circumstances.

The phone rang, making her jump -- startling her out of her thoughts. The caller ID identified the call as coming from Tim's cell phone.

"Tim, are you ok?"

"So, why didn't you show up?"

"Who the hell is this? How did you get my son's cell phone?" she growled, annoyed as hell.

"I'm the guy who beat the fuck out of your son and made you cum so hard yesterday."

"Hey, you attacked me from behind. I didn't ask you touch me, much less make me cum...and I am certainly not coming to your house."

"Look, why don't you stop denying what you know we both want? You want me to hurt your son, you want me to fuck you, and you want to cheat on your husband...with me."

"Fuck you...get lost asshole."

She hung up. Breathing hard, she realized that she was turning on as she talked (if you could call it that) with the bully. Relieved, she was happy that she got off the phone when she did, or the results might have been quite different. She went about cleaning the house, as she went ahead and took the entire week off, in order to mend her relationship with her son. It didn't really do much toward that end, however, as she calmed down and got lost in her thoughts about the bully again. It was nearly three o'clock when her cell phone rang. Her hands we full and it was all she could do to hit the screen to activate the speaker.

"Hello."

"You change your mind yet? Why'd you hang up baby?" the bully asked smoothly, with not a hint of anger. His voice raised goose bumps on her arms and she admired his cool resolve. Although maybe he just lets his anger build-up and then uses Tim as an outlet for it.

"What do you want and why do you keep calling? Do I have to hang up on you again?"

"You don't want to do that."

"Oh yeah? Why exactly not?" she demanded.

"Because I will continue to push the speed dial numbers on this phone and eventually I'll get your husband's phone and then I will have to tell him how I brought his wife off in an alley while she was screaming for me to beat the fuck out of her son."

"Why would you do that? What could you gain by that?" she asked.

"Me? I have nothing to gain or lose by it. You, though, stand to lose everything if you don't talk to me, but can gain oh so much just by having a conversation."

She had to admit that he had a point.

"Tell me one thing, if I am going to be talking to you. Why do you want me so badly?"

"Because you are singly, the hottest woman I have ever seen in my life."

"I find that hard to believe," she replied, half- annoyed, as she continued to work, wondering why she still hadn't hung up on him right then and the reminding herself about the speed dial.

"I guess it could also be that nothing would turn me on more than to steal a woman from her husband, while beating the shit out of her kid...and having her enjoy it all with me."

Her nipples perked up as she heard him utter his response.

"I am not leaving my husband and you do realize that I am not going to meet you," she smirked as she reminded him.

"Not today, but you will, eventually."

"Whatever. So, what do I call you?"

"Huh?" he asked, genuinely confused, just figuring that the shit stain would have told her his name.

"Your name, I only know you as my son's bully right now," she opened the door to a familiarity with the tormentor of her child...the man she hung up on earlier.

"Pete."

"Mind if I call you Peter? It seems more fitting right now."

"Sure, I mean, whatever you want to call me is fine as long as you call me."

She snickered a little. He could be kind of charming, if not a little corny.

"You know I'm still pissed that you have my son's phone -- the phone my husband and I pay the bill on. How did you get it anyway?"

"I took it from him the night I beat him so bad. I didn't want him calling for help."

"That was actually pretty smart of you."

"Yeah and now I have your phone numbers, so I can call you whenever," he claimed proudly.

"Not when my husband's here, though. He would not understand me talking to you."

"Fuck him. I don't give a shit what he thinks," Peter scowled while Olivia felt a little aroused at his venom.

"You know, my son has been to the hospital twice now because of you."

"Really?" he sounded intrigued, why the second time?"

"When you beat him yesterday you broke his arm again," she explained.

"That's awesome...and hilarious! But tell me, did it turn you on knowing that I broke his arm twice?"

"I'm not answering that question right now."

"Okay, fair enough. Can you answer a few other questions, though?" he asked.

"Go ahead," she replied, he interest piqued.

"You ever yell at your son...I mean, not in a mother son way...but really berate and humiliate him?"

She thought for a moment, chewing her lower lip, and then answered, figuring she could be honest with him; he wasn't going to report her to any authorities.

"I told him yesterday to stop antagonizing you and that it was his fault he was being beat on."

"No shit?"

"No shit. I also told him to stop his sniveling, he was a wimp, and stop telling people that you are beating him up, because he is embarrassing me," she sighed.

"Wow. That was pretty awesome, you know."

"I don't necessarily believe that," Olivia replied, feeling guilty, yet turned on.

"No, really, you are so fucking awesome for a guy like me, who understands where you are coming from... Have you ever physically hurt him?"

In for a penny, in for a pound she figured,

"Yesterday. I grabbed his broken arm and told him he better not dare tell his father anything."

"Did he scream?" Peter asked, hanging on the words.

"Yeah, pretty loud too -- God, I hope none of the neighbors heard."

"Did that turn you on?"

"Yeah, I sent him to his bedroom without dinner..."

"For what?" he interrupted.

"For being a pussy," she replied to quickly to catch herself.

"OH MY GOD, that is sooooo funny," he laughed for about thirty seconds.

"Think I can finish?" she asked a little perturbed by the interruption.

"Yeah, sorry, Olivia, go ahead," Peter chuckled.

"Anyway, after I sent him to his bedroom, I went to mine and masturbated."

"Did it feel good?" he asked.

"Yeah, best in a while actually."

"Better than with me?"

"I'm not answering that question right now."

"Okay then answer the other one," he demanded.

"Which one?"

"Did the fact that I broke his arm twice get your motor running?"

"Oh, jeez, why do you want to know that?" she asked knowing that it would come back up and dreading it.

"I just do, answer it because you won't answer the other."

"Yes, ok? In fact I thought about it when I manipulated myself yesterday."

"Wish I could have seen that," the bully mused.

She had stopped cleaning and was now leaning over the kitchen counter, looking at the phone, listening to his breathing as they remained silent for a moment. She noticed that she was staring at the picture of her son that popped onto the screen when the call came through.

"So, how did a lady like you end up giving birth to a piece of shit like your son?" he questioned.

"I don't honestly know, I guess he got more of his father's gene's," Olivia admitted to him, absently, as she now realized just how turned on she had become just talking to him.

"Is your husband a pussy too?"

"Yeah, probably, but he's smart and makes a good deal of money."

"You love him?"

"Yes, of course! Why would I be married to him if I didn't love him," she honestly replied.

"You love your son?"

"I gave birth to him, so I should. That's a stupid question. I expected better out of you."

"But you get off on me beating him up?"

"Yeah...I'm not sure why," she admitted to him,

"Back in high school, I always dated guys like you. I liked it when they hurt people for me. It seems weird that it would still be a part of me and especially toward Tim."

"Don't use his name when we talk. I can't stand that piece of shit," he spat.

She actually tingled at the hatred she felt through the phone, quietly undoing her pants, she slithered her right hand into her panties and began masturbating.

"What should I call him, then, piece of shit?" she said half-joking and half-hoping he would say yes.

"Yeah, or shit stain, I don't care, either."

"Oh fuck," slipped out of her mouth as her heartbeat raced upon hearing the answer. It was soooo wrong and it turned her on, so much.

"You playing with yourself?"

"You should give him back his phone," she whispered out, trying to stay quiet while she frigged her wet snatch.

"Who?"

"My son."

"Who?"

She knew what he wanted and wasn't ready to give it to him, yet --if ever. However, he was insistent.

"Who?"

She bit her lip and rubbed longer and harder, trying to exact and orgasm before he coerced her answer.

"Whose phone should I return? Hmmmmmm, Olivia Redmon, wife of Jim Redmon and mother of the kid I..."

"Uhhhh," she moaned.

"KICK..."

"Uhhhhh..."

"and..."

"Uhhhhhh..."

"BEAT..."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

"the FUCK..."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

"Out of EVERY SINGLE DAY!"

"OH GOD, he's a fucking piece of shit! OH MY GOD, nothing but a fucking piece of shit!" she screamed as she came for Peter, for -- what was now -- the second time.

Sweat rolled off of her body as she gasped and stared at the phone, shaking, cum oozing from her pussy.

"Take a picture of your cunt for me, quick, do it now, hurry!" he urged her. Still feeling the tremors everywhere, she grabbed the camera and stuck it between her legs, snapping a picture and then sending it to her son's cell phone.

"Oh my God, that is so hot and nasty. What the fuck is that white stuff?"

"That's my flow. I can have visible cums, kind of like squirting, but it doesn't squirt," she answered back, still gasping.

"Shit, that is so awesome. You ever cum for your husband like that?"

"No," she admitted...not really caring right then if she gave away a secret of her marriage. It somehow seemed right to share it with him, considering everything else she had shared.

"Have you ever cum like that before?" He was inquisitive as hell but she would chalk it up to his youth and relative inexperience with different women. "Yes, when I was younger," she replied.

"When you were with bullies?"

They both got very quiet. He wanted to hear the answer and a part of her did not wish to speak it. But she had gone this far already, she reasoned.

"Yes, with bullies."

"You want me to give you a present?" Peter asked quietly.

"What kind of present?"

"The kind you used to ask guys like me for."

She thought long and hard at this point, what the hell was she getting herself into.

"Yes or no?"

This was almost contract bullying and the age difference...she understood that everyone involved was legally adult and she wasn't technically corrupting a minor, but there was an age difference which should result in her being the responsible adult.

"Yes or no?"

Olivia was sure it would be Tim, that would be hurt, but could she do it? The turn on would be immense.

"Yes or no?"

God, he never gave her time to think...to get her head on straight. She already let him get the advantage today; in fact, she participated fully, even though it was through the safety of the phone...he couldn't touch her physically.

"Yes or no, Olivia Redmon?"

Imagine the power of the orgasm she would have, after seeing the new damage to her son -- meant just for her.

"Yes! Do it!" she finally exclaimed, letting the words burst forth before she could rethink them, or take them back.

"I need you to do something first."

"What?"

"Take the phone to the piece of shit's bathroom, but don't do up your pants...and leave your cummy cunt alone, don't even wipe it yet."