For The Gander

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
jdnunyer
jdnunyer
607 Followers

She finished up, adjusted her breasts, which looked rather amazing in the skimpy little teddy if she did say so herself, and went to join him. If he played his cards right, he just might get lucky tonight. That would be the first time in months, setting aside the obligatory quickie on his birthday. And more than a month even counting that.

And the first time in years that she was genuinely excited about the prospect.

Her husband was lying in bed, reading something on his laptop.

"Work?" she asked.

"Some articles about student loans," he replied.

And just like that, her well ran dry.

The man had to be mentally impaired. If he wanted to wile his way back into her good graces, the very last thing he should be doing was researching ways to screw their son over. And if he was only turning on the charm to lull her into a false sense of security, well that wouldn't work either if he was going to be so transparent about trying to weasel out of his promise. Whatever he was after, it made no sense for him to throw that in her face!

"Hmm," she grunted as she slipped into bed.

He looked at her. "If we take out a private loan in our name, there's practically no limit to how much we can borrow. Interest starts accruing right away, but we can afford to cover that for him until he graduates."

Until he graduates. They'd make his interest payments.

"I'm tired, honey. Can we turn the light out?" Mel said.

Bill actually looked surprised that she hadn't pinned a ribbon on his chest for proposing such a brilliant fucking compromise. "Sure, babe," he said.

And so their five week long dry spell grew one night longer.

#

"Hey, Sue," Bill said, staring out his office window. "How are you?"

"Good. And you?" his sister asked.

He let out a heavy sigh and switched his phone to his other ear. All his life, Bill had been a nervous fidgeter. His midlife crisis was only making things worse. "Been better."

"What is it?" she asked.

His temples throbbed. A monster of a headache was coming on and his throat felt tight. "I need to talk to you about Mom and Dad."

"Are they okay?" Sue finally asked, voice tight.

"Oh, yeah, they're fine," he said, realizing his mistake. Since their parents lived closest to him, he was the one they'd call in the event of another medical emergency. After Dad's prostate cancer, that was always the first place Sue's mind went. "It's not that." He drew a deep breath. "It's about their retirement."

The pregnant silence said it all.

He made his best case, but he knew what her reaction would be. He had, after all, made a promise. It certainly wasn't her fault, or their parents' fault, that he'd gone and promised the money to two different members of his family. Nor was it any concern of his sister's that his wife was freezing him out even worse than usual because of it. He could tell her about Mel and his promise to Jake, but he couldn't very well tell his sister that he was pretty sure that his wife was deliberately withholding sex in an attempt to get him to cave. That he was almost certain that they'd been about to do it last night, until he'd been fool enough to try to convince her that student loans were a real option.

Besides, Sue knew that he and Mel had been going through tough times for years. He might win some measure of sisterly sympathy by mentioning the toll it was taking on his mariage, but not enough to get him off the hook.

"Look, I'm sorry you and Mel are fighting," his sister began.

Before he hung up, Bill repeated his promise to cover his share of their parents' mortgage.

#

Mel stared at her phone. Jake's enrollment deposit was due soon. Yet, surprise of surprises, her husband hadn't made a decision yet.

Adam's internship with the local community college would also be ending soon. Tonight might be their last night together.

Yet, if Bill would just do the right thing, she'd be glad to call it off. Hot as their little romance had been, she'd have no qualms about ending it prematurely, if Bill gave her a good reason to. She kept hoping that he would, too. Any minute now, she told herself, her phone would ring, and Bill would tell her that he'd come around. After she hung up, she'd send Adam an apologetic email.

If only.

Of course, she ought to send that email anyway. And not just because she never should have started down this path in the first place. Of late, Bill seemed to be growing suspicious. She'd probably been imagining it, but she was half sure that he was reading her emails too. The other night, she could have sworn she remembered to sign out of her account before going to bed. When she went to use the computer the next morning, Firefox was already open, and one of the tabs was open to her inbox. All the naughty stuff was filed away, but she'd been stupid enough to save the messages under the label "Adam" rather than something more innocuous. Bill hadn't said anything about it, nor behaved any differently around her than he'd been acting in general lately, but the experience still left her spooked.

For most of the day, she fought with the idea of telling Adam something had come up and she couldn't make it tonight. No need to even tell him she was breaking things off. After next week, she'd never see him again anyway, unless she chose to. If she put a stop to things now, Bill would never find out. Assuming he hadn't already, that was.

In the end, though, her libido won out.

God help her, she liked having a regular sex life again. And it certainly didn't hurt that Adam was hot as hell and good in bed to boot.

#

Bill found Steve sitting at a booth. Two young women were with him.

Two very young women.

"For fuck's sake," he mumbled to himself, immediately turning around.

He should just go back to his car. Call his friend later and claim that his car had broken down. Nothing good could come of this. Bad as things had gotten with Mel lately, he didn't know if he had it in him to walk away again, the way he had at that brothel.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw that the girl sitting across from Steve and her friend looked even more like Evie than that prostitute had. Back then, it had mostly been his conscience forcing him to see what wasn't there. That was clear now that more time had passed. This time, though, there really was an uncanny resemblance. She had the same ultra fair skin and jet black hair, roughly similar facial features, and the shamefully low-cut dress she wore would have fit seamlessly into his daughter's scandalous wardrobe.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Steve couldn't possibly know that Bill had started fantasizing about his daughter after that trip. That he was counting the days til it would be time for him to drive out there and pick her up, and doing so with both excitement and trepidation. Did he even remember what she looked like? It had been years since he'd been over the house when Evie was home.

He stared over his shoulder at the girl. She didn't really look that much like his daughter. And though she was entirely too young for him, she probably had a good four or five years on Evie. And ten, twelve pounds, for that matter.

It wouldn't be so bad if he went through with it, really. She was in her mid-twenties. Not a girl, but a grown woman. Out of school and living on her own, most likely.

Besides, he was pretty sure that wife was having an affair of her own. How bad could he feel about cheating on her if she was already cheating on him?

Bill drew a deep breath headed over to the booth.

"There he is!" Steve called out, beaming at him.

#

Mel paced back and forth, staring at the front door. She couldn't believe she was going through with this. Until now, they'd only met at hotel rooms. Now they were going to soil the very bed she shared with Bill.

After what should have been her last night with the boy, she and Bill had their worst fight yet. She'd asked him if he had any news for Jake, and again he brought up student loans. Didn't he get that Jake didn't want to have that kind of debt hanging over him when he got out of school, even if it meant he got to go to Princeton? With a full scholarship awaiting him at State, of course he was going to decline if they couldn't help him out. It made her so angry to think of the way he was forcing their son to sell his future short, just because Bill didn't have the balls to stand up to his sisters.

There was obviously only one way to respond: revenge sex.

She realized how absurd that was, of course. In truth, it wasn't even revenge sex. That was just a rationalization. Mel wanted to fuck her young stud one more time, and wanted the rush of knowing that she'd risked getting caught to do it. It was as simple as that.

After the second time she found the browser open to her inbox, she was sure that Bill knew. And she no longer cared. She almost hoped he'd called out of work too, that he was planning on interrupting them. She'd love to see the look on his face.

And to have an excuse to put this farce to an end.

She stopped dead in her tracks at the thought. Had she really crossed that line? Was she really hoping for a divorce?

If so, it would be awfully stupid to let her affair be the precipitating event. Bill was cheating on her too at this point. She was sure of it. Of course, he was barely even trying to hide it, so it would be hard not to be. He'd come home smelling of cum and perfume the last time he said he was going out for drinks with Steve. If she could catch him in the act, she might get enough of his money to help Jake go to Princeton after all. But if he had pictures of her and her lover in their house, that would never happen.

Mel whipped out her phone and started clicking through her phone book.

Then a knock came at her front door.

Too late.

She could tell him this was a bad idea. Ask him to leave. He'd understand, wouldn't he?

Of course he wouldn't. He was a teenager. He was pumped full of hormones and convinced that he had the most addictive drug known to womankind inside his pants.

Besides, there was no way Bill was going to bust in on them. If her husband had any testicular fortitude, if he wasn't completely incapable of standing up to anyone, they wouldn't be in this mess. He'd have told Sue and Ann to fuck off.

She smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in her babydoll, fixed her breasts, hiked up her thigh high stockings, and then answered the door.

Adam gave her a quick look up and down, carefully hiding his excitement, and said, "I'm sorry, miss, I must have the wrong house."

"Oh, shut up, you," she said, reach out to grab him by the wrist. "Get in here before the neighbors see me dressed like this."

He laughed as he stumbled over the threshold.

Before she even had the door shut, his hands were grabbing at her. She giggled as she tried, haphazardly, to get away. Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't resist him. He was too fast, too strong. Too determined.

The burning passion in his eyes made her quiver.

They didn't even make it up to the bedroom. Just did it right there in the living room. On the floor, on the coffee table, and on the couch. Over and over and over again. Her gorgeous stud was so young, so full of stamina. He never needed more than a few minutes after ejaculating before he was ready to go again.

She eventually noticed that they were caught in the act after all. Which ought not to have come as a surprise, given how reckless they'd been.

But it wasn't Bill who'd been spying on them.

#

"You really think this is cool?" Lem asked.

Jake snickered. "Dude, sometimes I wonder if my parents remember I still live here."

If they did, you'd think his mother might not bring her teenage lover home. Might not leave her email open on the family desktop, for anyone to peruse.

The mere thought made him shudder. And when Jake closed his eyes and pictured the things he'd seen his mother doing with the guy just a few hours earlier, in his very own living room, his body reacted even more strongly.

And in all the wrong ways.

"We should at least close the doors, no?" he asked.

"Obviously," Jake said. He got up and went to the entrance to the den. "We're gonna watch a movie, ma," he called out. "I'm closing the doors so you don't have to hear."

"Okay, dear," she called back.

"Speaking of," Lem said, "we gonna have to mute it?"

"Prolly, yeah," Jake said. "The doors help, but sometimes they scream pretty loud. Even if we turn the volume down low, she might hear something."

"Right," Lem said. "And that would be bad."

"Yes," Jake said, staring at his friend flatly. "That would be bad."

"Just fucking with ya," his friend said, clapping him on the back.

So Lem started browsing through selections at a streaming adult video site while Jake set up the cables to connect the laptop to the TV.

"Gotta be MILF?" Lem asked.

"That a problem?"

"Not really," he said. "Wouldn't mind a little interracial, but MILF definitely works."

Of course he wouldn't mind interracial. They only ever used the most ridiculously well-endowed black guys for those movies, further perpetuating certain myths. Of course, Lem insisted it wasn't a myth, but it wouldn't surprise Jake at all to find out that his friend was smaller than him. Granted, most men were. He was lucky in that respect. But still.

"Oh, this is it," Lem said.

Jake looked over his friend's shoulder. "Watching Mom Go Black 14? Really?"

"Hellz to the yeah," Lem said, nodding his head emphatically.

His heart raced as he heard himself say, "Whatever, man. It's your money."

For an instant, he wondered what it would be like to watch his mother fuck for the second time that day. To watch his mom go black. Suddenly, he found it hard to breathe. His stomach heaved, and it was a wonder he didn't vomit.

Yet, despite that, his semi was rapidly becoming a full-blown erection. He turned away from the laptop, feigning disgust, and tucked his cock up into the waistband of his shorts.

He pulled the couch a little closer to the TV and took a seat.

"Here we go," Lem said as he finished typing his credit card number in.

"Oh, god," Jake said as the opening credits rolled.

He covered his face with his hands, peering out between his fingers, and groaned. On screen, snippets of one voluptuous white woman after another appeared, most of them sucking or riding monstrous black cocks.

None of them looked particularly mature, but that was no real surprise. Everyone knew that "MILF" was just a porn industry codeword for curvy, the same as "teen" or "barely-legal" meant "flat-chested and wearing her hair in ponytails." Besides, it was the curves he was interested in anyway. He didn't really want to watch older women fuck.

Or so he told himself.

"Yeeeaaaah boi," Lem said, punching Jake in the bicep.

"This is happening," Jake said. "This is actually happening."

It was weird. He'd watched porn with his friends before, but everyone always pretended it was no big deal, that it didn't even turn them on. They'd laugh at the terrible acting, rag on the girls with bad boob jobs, and just generally make complete asses of themselves. It made Jake feel dirty and pathetic and misogynistic, yet gave him a cheap thrill all the same.

This was going to be different. He could feel it already.

"Hey, there's a redhead," Lem said as the brief intros to the women advanced.

"I do believe she is," Jake said. "Your powers of observation are a wonder to behold."

His friend flashed him a toothy grin. "You know who else has red hair?"

"Fuck you," Jake said.

God, he would give his left foot to see that. He didn't care how horrible a human being that made him. The sight of his mother taking it in every hole from her young lover was already permanently seared into his memory. He'd thought her skin looked exceptionally fair in contrast with that of the man lying atop her this afternoon. How milky would her big, fat tits look in Lem's chocolate hands? Watching her suck and fuck Lem's cock, however big it might or might not be, would drive him crazy.

The first woman up was a tall, hot mess with fake tits, a fake tan, and fake blonde hair. Her face left something to be desired, and he felt like he should have thought the same about her body, but there was something fascinating about her thick thighs, huge, round ass, and relatively slender waist. It wasn't just her extreme curves, which were more than a little appealing. The stretch marks and cellulite that the extreme closeups revealed in all their glory made Jake's cock twitch. That should have turned him off, but instead it seemed to humanize her. To offset some of the artificiality evoked by all her fake parts. Her tan, tits, and locks aside, she was a real woman, with serious curves and realistic imperfections.

"Barbie, after her divorce," Lem said, chuckling.

"Nah, Ken's still whoring her out at this point," Jake said. "The real hard times are yet to come. You can tell because she hasn't got that heroine chic look of starvation yet."

"Day-umn," his friend said. "That's harsh, bro."

Jake shrugged. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"Nah. You ain't that."

Yet he felt like he should wash his mouth out after saying it. Why did being young and male have to mean constantly needing to prove that you were just as hateful, overconfident, crude, and selfish as the next prick?

More to the point, why did he feel guiltier about succumbing to peer pressure than he did fantasizing about his fucking mother? In what world did that make sense?

His, evidently.

They continued making nasty comments for the next ten minutes or so. But once things really started to heat up, they got a lot quieter. For Jake, that was the moment the two guys appeared and the black guy started mocking the son. Even with the sound off, it was obvious that was what was happening. The white kid hung his head in shame, though he never bothered to look away for more than a few seconds. The black guy made a show of treating the mother like a piece of meat. He ripped her clothes off, slapped her huge ass and laughably firm tits, squeezed her face, and then really started to manhandle her.

"Okay, this I can do without," Jake said. "Why does porn have to be so violent?"

"Pussy," Lem said.

After that, Jake kept all such thoughts to himself.

One monster facial that obviously involved fake jizz later, a new actress came on screen. This one was short, cute, and brunette. She too had a big ass and big tits, but hers might actually have been real. Unlikely, given their size and the norms in the industry. But if nothing else, she'd gotten much better work done. They had some real sag to them and bounced deliciously when she strutted across the room in her monster heels.

This time, one black guy was not enough. The poor woman's son, who looked no more than five years younger than her, had to watch as two burly studs tag-teamed her.

Jake and Lem hardly spoke a word throughout the scene. The two of them just sat there, pretending not to notice the other guy rubbing himself through his shorts, enraptured.

By the time a third black guy joined in, Jake was close to asking Lem if it would freak him out if Jake jerked off. The woman had a dick the size of a soda can in her snatch, another monster in her ass, and another one in her mouth. The guy who was supposed to be her son watched in wide-eyed fascination. It was very nearly more than Jake could handle.

"Fucking Tupperware Party," Lem said at last.

His friend's sudden disruption of the long silence jarred him. Jake shook himself out of his reverie and took his hand out of his pants.

"Dude," said Lem, who had been rubbing himself through the fabric of his shorts but hadn't actually touched himself. "Don't go getting all freaky on me."

jdnunyer
jdnunyer
607 Followers
123456...8