Bully Moves in Next Door Pt. 06

I begin excitedly pumping my own erection, feeling the cum churning in my balls as Stanley approaches his orgasm.

"Ohhhh get ready, you cheating skank. Desserts on its way." He clenches his teeth and uses his large, muscular arms to push up off the couch slightly.

Mom lets out a desperate whine while continuing to swallow his shaft, as if she'd cry from being deprived of the taste of his seed a moment longer.

"Open up wide, bitch!" Stanley's hips begin jutting forward, face fucking mom's mouth in an effort to stimulate a faster and more powerful orgasm

Argghhhh!" He grunts obscenely, giving a last few powerful, deep thrusts as his cock begins feeding her an ample volume of semen.

Stanley leaves half of his cock shoved into her mouth, allowing me to glimpse the bottom half of it pulsing savagely with every spurt of cum being discharged.

Mom lets out a long satisfied moan, looking quite content as she begins gulping down, in loud swallows, the dense sperm being fed to her by his hose.

"Aw yeah, you like the feeling of my warm baby batter sliding down your throat?" Stanley smirks at her while giving small, shallow thrusts.

Mom barely nods, not wanting to risk losing any of his precious seed. Her lips gently begin tugging at his shaft in an urgent plea to receive as much of his creamy jizz as she can get.

"What a perfect cum dump you are," he tells her as she gives his dick several quick pumps.

The sight and sounds of mom swallowing heavy amounts of Stanley's thick splooge overwhelms my already overstimulated cock, and with one final yank, I shoot rope after rope of cum onto the front of my shirt.

The first couple of spurts release so powerfully, I almost cry out, barely managing to stop myself by clamping my free hand over my mouth as my cock spasms in the other. After what feels like an eternity, my orgasm subsides, slowly fading away with my erection and leaving me with a cum soaked shirt.

On the couch in the living room, Stanley appears to also be coming down from his orgasm, watching in fascination as mom milks his half deflated cock for every last drop of his cum, releasing it with a long, wet slurp before swallowing the remains of his load which she has stored in her mouth.

"Fucking hell, I think that was the best bj you've ever given me," he compliments.

Mom sits up on her knees, licking her lips while giving him a sly smile.

"I always aim to improve," she winks in response.

"Good, you know the right way to keep your man satisfied then."

I want to cry hearing him refer to himself as her man.

"How'd you fair while you were blowing me?" He tilts his chin in a gesture towards her. "You sopping wet?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Cunt check," he tells her.

Climbing to her feet, she moves between his long legs while he scoots forward, lowering his feet from the coffee table to the ground.

Grabbing the front of her white sundress, he lifts the hem just enough to reach under and cup her pussy with his large hand, causing mom to emit a sharp groan.

"Oh yeah, you are soaked."

He grins, clearly pleased that blowing him could get her so wet. After a few more seconds of pressing himself against her soft mound, he pulls away and lets go of her dress.

"How about I get a taste of all the juices you were cooking up for me while my dick was in your mouth," he tells her while standing up. "Get on your knees and bend over the arm of the couch." This was not a request.

Mom hurriedly gets into position facing away from me while Stanley searches for his shorts, finding them in a heap on the floor.

"Show me those glistening pussy lips," he commands, hastily dressing.

Mom lifts the hem of her dress up to her waist, arching her back in proper form and revealing her wet, inflamed folds.

Stanley kneels down and places both of his big hands on each of her ass cheeks, giving them a strong squeeze before leaning in close and inhaling deeply.

"Ahhh," he exclaims loudly. "The only thing better than the smell of a wet cunt is the taste."

And with that, he buries his mouth in her pink, velvety opening. Mom lets out a short cry of pleasure as Stanley's lips and tongue begin their much desired assault.

With my arousal satiated, anymore of their sexual antics will only leave me feeling worse than I already do, so I decide to make my retreat back to my room, zipping my pants before slowly sitting up and then carefully climbing the steps.

After shutting the door behind me, I tug off my shirt, tossing it onto the floor and grabbing another. My stomach lets out a loud growl of hunger, and I strongly resent mom and Stanley's continued sexual escapades downstairs despite having only finished jerking off to it a few minutes prior.

Hopping onto my bed, I stare up at the ceiling wondering how long they're gonna be. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, I see it's been almost an hour since I woke up from my nap. My stomach gives another shout of complaint and I place my hand over it in comfort. Surely they can't take that long?

Yet, time stretches on, and the occasional faint sound of mom crying out in pleasure, presumably from Stanley's wriggling tongue, keeps me from venturing out for food.

Eventually, without intending to, I fall asleep, all the reserve energy I gained from my nap having been drained by my prolonged jerk off session on the stairs while watching mom swallow Stanley's dick.

I woke up even more confused than I had been the previous evening, the dim early morning sun conflicted with the last memory I had of laying in bed last night.

"Fuck," I half shouted, catching sight of the time displayed on the digital clock beside me. I had woken up late.

I launched myself out of bed, my brain moving a mile a minute, scrambling my thoughts in an attempt to process what to do next.

Needing to shower but calculating that there isn't enough time to do so, I quickly change into my work clothes and brush my teeth before heading downstairs, only to find mom serving Stanley breakfast at the kitchen table.

"Good morning, sweetheart," mom greets me while pouring Stanley a cup of coffee. He's wearing the same clothes from yesterday, relaxing in Tim's chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossing at the ankles.

"Morning," I mumble back with a frown.

Ambling to the opposite end of the table, I sit down without even bothering to question why Stanley is here, knowing he'd most likely spent the night, though neither of them will admit it, instead finding some lame excuse or another to explain his presence.

I catch Stanley eyeing me with disgust from across the table as I reach forward to grab some rye toast from a plate in the center.

"Is that how you're going into work?" He asks, unable to keep his lip from curling upward in contempt. "It looks like you didn't even shower."

"I accidentally overslept and didn't have time."

He tsked while shaking his head. "You need to do a better job managing your time, Kyle. This is not a great impression to make on only your second day."

In my peripheral vision, I notice mom nodding her head in agreement as she places a plate and silverware in front of me, and I turn to face her as my mouth drops open in indignation.

"Don't give me that look," she lightly chastises. "You were the one that decided to take a nap without setting an alarm."

"Yeah, and your mother ended up having to clean up the dinner table last night," Stanley interjects.

"I didn't even have dinner," I argue, raising my arm in exasperation. "I was so exhausted after work I - "

"That's no excuse," he interrupts sharply. "You don't think your mother is tired at the end of the day? Huh?"

"No," I mutter.

"Exactly, she works and then takes care of what needs to be done, and the same is expected of you. Is that understood?"

When I don't respond, he sits up and leans forward in his seat, a dark, menacing look on his face.

"Is that understood?" He repeats, this time slower and in a low voice.

"Yeah," I mutter.

"What was that?"

"Yes, it's understood," I say louder.

"Good."

He lets out a sigh of frustration and leans back in his seat. Mom, who had stepped to the side during our exchange, now moves behind him and begins to soothingly rub his shoulders.

My cheeks burn in rage and humiliation, and I look down, watching as the toast slowly disappears with every bite I take of it, grabbing another once it's all gone.

"Kyle, since you went to bed so early last night, I didn't get to ask you about how your first day of work went."

I chew slowly, swallowing it all before answering her.

"Actually, I was thinking maybe you could take me to work and we could talk about it on the drive over?"

I glance up hopefully at her, my face falling when I see the look of regret on her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart. I have a video conference early this morning, or else I'd love to."

I look back down again, but not before noticing the small, secretive smirk on Stanley's face.

"But hey, you can tell me all about it at dinner tonight. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great mom," I tell her before taking another bite of toast.

"It's a plan! And why don't you go ahead and take the car to work yourself. You'll get in some more driving practice that way and you won't be late."

I bob my head slightly, "Ok."

"Speaking of being late," she glances at the clock on the wall. "I better go get ready before I am."

She lets go of Stanley's shoulders, coming around the table to give me a quick kiss before saying goodbye and heading upstairs, the echo of the bathroom door closing following a minute later.

I finish eating my toast, studiously avoiding making eye contact with Stanley as he silently sips his coffee while staring at me from across the table.

"I gotta get going," I mumble once I'm done, standing up to brush the crumbs from my shirt before heading into the laundry room.

I dig through the piles of folded clothes in the laundry bin that sits on top of the dryer, pulling out a fresh pair of socks once I locate them. After slipping them on, I turn to leave but stop once I notice Stanley's large, imposing frame blocking the doorway.

He takes a few steps forward in an attempt to intimidate me with his size.

"You need to do better around here, Kyle. I don't need you making me look bad in front of your mother."

"What does that mean?"

"I've put a lot of work into making her my bitch, and for the most part, it's gone pretty smoothly. So I'm not gonna let you're incompetence create any bumps in the road for me. Not now, not during the homestretch."

I felt the anger from earlier rising up inside me, uncontrollable, like bile, attempting to reach the surface.

"So, what? Are you afraid I'll ruin it all for you, then? Tell my mom what a psychotic asshole you really are so that she'll stop fucking you and send you back to your trashy, dipshit family?"

I practically spit at the end of the last sentence. I'm so angry my vision is blurred around the edges, and I only see a flash of his right hand the moment before his palm strikes the left side of my face in a slap so powerful that I slam into the dryer.

He sighs as I scramble to remain upright, frantically trying to grab hold of the machine while my head spins and a burning sensation begins to settle over my cheek.

"You know, for someone who acted like they were so much smarter than everyone else in high school, you really are a fucking idiot."

He slowly moves toward me, the bottom of his slides scraping lazily against the linoleum, as if I wasn't worth the energy to lift his feet entirely off the floor while he drifts closer. As my vision swims back into focus, I can see a look of calm intensity on his face, which surprises and scares me. I had expected searing anger, but somehow this is worse.

"You really think I'm afraid of you? You?"

Reaching his big paw out, he grips the front of my shirt tightly, pulling me toward him while bending forward. I can feel the heels of my feet lift off the ground as we come face to face, my toes straining against the floor. Eyes growing wide, the beating of my heart becomes rapid, intensifying the throbbing sting I feel against my cheek.

"What exactly am I supposed to be afraid of, hm? Your little threats?" The smell of his coffee breath makes me wince slightly. "We both know they're just that. You're too fucking pathetic to do anything other than shoot your whiny mouth off."

I begin to squirm, truly fearing what he might do now. But this only makes him tighten his grip. His dark eyes feel as if they're trying to bore a hole through me.

"The thing is, Kyle, you might have been good at school, but you're a complete fuck up in real life. I know it, you know it, even your mom knows it."

Tears begin welling up in my eyes, and I fight the urge not to cry in front of him. Later, but please God, not now.

"You can't do anything right, not on your own and not without being pushed or told to. So I don't want your mother thinking I can't keep you in line because you haven't realized your new place in this house yet, your place under me."

Returning to his full height, he uses all of his strength to lift me fully into the air, bringing me so close that our noses almost touch while my feet dangle helplessly above the ground.

"Now you're not going to make what's happening between me and your mom any more difficult, are you?"

"N-no," my voice barely comes out in a whisper.

"Cause you know what's gonna happen if you do, and it ain't gonna be fun."

Stanley lowers me back down to the ground and releases me with a shove. I stumble backwards a few steps, managing to catch myself on the dryer. Blinking rapidly, I just manage to fend off the flow of tears before looking up at him, arms crossed against his well defined, muscular chest while sneering down at me.

Chuckling, he shakes his head. "I can't believe you thought I was afraid you'd spill the beans to your mom. As if she'd fucking believe you at this point."

He pauses a moment, appearing to momentarily ponder something before his sneer grows, and he opens his mouth to tear my heart to shreds.

"You know she doesn't actually have a video conference this morning, right? She just said that because she didn't want to waste her time before work listening to you prattle on about your stupid job instead of letting me ride her like a cheap, dime store pony."

A look of disbelieving horror crosses my face, and Stanley lets out a deep, sinister laugh once he sees my expression.

"Th-that's not true," I stammer out in denial.

"Of course it's fucking true," he says, still laughing. "Why wouldn't it be? She can't get enough of me, or my dick."

He makes a few obscene thrusts of his hips to reinforce his point, a sadistic grin stretching from ear to ear.

"Shit, she's probably waiting for me up in bed right now," he continues. "Naked, legs splayed open, fingering that sweet pussy to prepare it for taking my hog."

"No, no, I don't believe you!"

Like a dam bursting, tears come flooding out. I fling myself forward, squeezing past his huge body on my way into the kitchen. I hurriedly stuff my feet into my shoes, grab the keys off the counter, and fling the door open. Sobs begin to burst from my chest the moment I'm outside and I hurry to the car, unlocking it before I climb inside.

-----------

I spent nearly fifteen minutes crying in the car before I calmed down enough to drive, arriving at work two minutes before I'm supposed to clock in. The whole morning passed by in a haze, and there were times where I felt like I barely knew what I was doing.

Luckily, everyone chalked up my actions to not having completed my training, and Sarah was kind of enough to guide me along.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket at a certain point, but was too busy to check it until I was on break. Leaning against a shelf in the storeroom, I pull my phone out of my pocket, not recognizing the number the text was sent from. My heart skips a beat when I see there's a video attached to the following message, "In case you still don't believe me."

I immediately move to delete it, but pause, my finger hovering over the trash can icon, the familiar stirring deep in my loins returning along with the immense shame that accompanies it.

Quickly looking around, I bolt into the employee bathroom, locking it behind me. I sit down on the toilet and unlock my phone, staring at the text before tapping play on the video.

The sounds of grunting, moaning, and the colliding of wet flesh, comes blaring out of the speakers, and I nearly drop the phone trying to lower the volume.

Once it's down to a respectable level, I can see from the video that the camera is being aimed down at a creamy, lusciously round ass, sticking up from the unmade sheets of a bed, the bubbly cheeks jiggling every time a pair of hips slams into them to deliver a huge, uncut cock pass the delicate, pink folds underneath.

"Ugh, ugh, oh God, ugh, yes, fuck me, Stanley," mom yells.

"Fucking take my dick, bitch!"

Stanley's large hand comes down in a smack against mom's left ass cheek, causing her to cry out. I flinch, the memory of my own smack too recent.

"Again, hit me again," she desperately pleads.

He obliges, beating her ass several more times and with greater ferocity.

"You fucking skank, you love being roughed you like a cheap whore, don't you?"

"I do, I love it, I love when you treat me like the dirty slut that I am!"

She begins to push her ass back, meeting his hips and causing his cock to push deep inside her. I feel my erection throbbing in my pants. As salacious as this is, it isn't proof it happened this morning, I think with hope.

As if reading my mind, the view suddenly switches from rear-facing to front-facing, and I'm greeted by the sight of Stanley peering down at the camera, hair damp and a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

He raises the phone up and uses his long arm to hold it out and back to the right, giving me a view of his muscular body as he pounds into mom, who's resting on her knees and elbows with her ass perched in the air while her head and chest are pressed down on the bed.

"Yeah, does that feel good, you naughty bitch?" He ceases thrusting, letting mom fuck herself on his long, thick pole.

"Fuck yes, it's amazing," she cries out.

"Glad you lied to your son so you could stay here?" I gasp and feel my cock give a sharp jerk.

"God, yes," she responds truthfully.

"You'd rather be taking my dick than driving around, talking to him, huh?"

"Yes, yes, this is so much better," she admits.

Stanley gives the middle finger to the camera and sticks out his tongue, then he resumes battering mom's pussy with his rigid cock.

I quickly undo my pants and pull out my erection, furiously stroking it while the video plays on. I'm so turned on, I know it won't be long before I bust. In the video, mom announces that she's close.

"Cream my dick, bitch, and you'll get my seed faster," Stanley shouts at her.

"Oh shit, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!"

With a grunt, I begin to shoot semen all over the floor of the employee bathroom, while at the same time on screen, my mother cums all over the big dick of the man who bullies me.