Halloween Mom

They weren't very athletic in their couplings. No Kama Sutra of positions between the Millers! Missionary position and doggie style was their complete repertoire. The Sunday sex usually involved only one male orgasm but the Thursday or Friday ones usually featured two and once even three male spurtings.

Dad's cock seemed relatively average, both in girth and length. Maybe six inches fully erect. It seemed to work fine.

They seemed to enjoy the sex. There was never any angry words, no recriminating accusations. They invariably fell asleep smiling in each others arms. But somehow it just wasn't...I don't know, maybe intense is the word I'm looking for. It lacked passion...violence...need.

And I noticed that Mother hardly ever had an orgasm during sex, and when she did it was invariably produced by the urgent manipulation of her clitoris by her fingers as dad fucked her doggie style. It was clear from watching that her sex drive was significantly greater than dad's.

Watching spellbound in my room, knowing that mother was going elsewhere for sex, I couldn't help but mutter advice as I watched my father with mom. As I stroked my own long penis to the rhythms of mother's sexual groans I'd yell out unheard instructions to dad.

"Not yet...no, don't do that...slower...faster...," an endless litany that I hoped would somehow be heard and understood, and then acted on by dad.

And yet he'd invariably cum before mom was ready, and well before my cock was ready to spew out its load of thick cum. It simply became clear as the days and weeks passed that if I didn't want mom to stray in the future that I'd have to give her what she needed myself. Whether she wanted me to or not!

What's worse, I'd asked myself endlessly as the days had passed, to have my mom sleeping around town disgracing herself and belittling dad, shaming our family, or for me, her son, satisfying her carnal needs with taboo incestuous couplings?

As to her extramarital affairs it soon became clear that her sexual trysts were rare exceptions in an otherwise normal life. Her phone calls, her e-mails, her instant messaging revealed nothing of a sexual nature, instead simply became for me a boring task of sifting through screens of uninteresting correspondence.

Even the camera and bugs I'd placed in moms office the second week had yielded nothing more than the odd comment between the lovers that simply confirmed my suspicions that something was going on. But no real proof!

It was mom's 2006 date book and calendar that finally gave me my first true clue. Kept on her computer and accessible from home and her office and her BlackBerry, I scoured through every entry for 2006. The only anomalies I could find were small red stars that appeared eight different times over the six plus months. There was never any name or other notation next to them. They occurred randomly, but generally there seemed to be one every three or four weeks.

Quick crosschecking of Dad's date book and his American Express receipts showed that dad had been out of town on all eight days that a star appeared in mom's book.

It was on July the twelfth when I figured out the stars. Checking again, I saw the last one had been on June twentieth, the same day I'd seen them across the square. Quickly I realized that the tender caress I'd seen that day had been simply the denouement of an afternoon of infidelity. Parker's cum had probably been sliding down mom's thigh as I'd watched them from across the square!

I also immediately realized as I plotted the dates of their meetings that if the two continued to form they were due for another rendezvous any day.

I simply watched and waited!

I had also learned quite a bit about Graham Parker during my weeks of spying. Married, with four children aged seven to sixteen; I soon found that the forty-nine year old wasn't cheating just with mom. Monitoring his phone conversations it was clear he was one of those middle-aged married salesmen who figure it's their duty to try their sales lines on every member of the opposite sex they meet.

I followed him one Friday night in July when he came out of one of the local pickup bars around eleven with his arm around a forty something blond. A blond I immediately recognized as the divorced mother of one of my classmates. I tried to follow him that night on my motorcycle but once out of town and winding through the forested foothills it was impossible to keep up with him without giving myself away. So I let him go that night.

But then found out two days later (from a casual question I asked mom) that he owned a small cabin fifteen miles out of town, deep in the woods, a private lair on a small stream that was almost impossible to find without a map. Driving out to scout the location I knew immediately it was where he took my mom. That this one room cabin, with a washroom and small open kitchen, but dominated by a queen sized bed that sat proudly in the center of the room, was where my mother lay back and opened her legs and let another man defile her.

I wanted to burn the shack down. Instead, I installed one of my wireless, pinhole cameras before I left. Right next to the bed.

I continued to wait, and then, finally, during dinner, on Sunday, July 23rd I heard dad tell mom that he'd be going to Richmond on the following Wednesday, that he even might have to stay overnight. At ten-thirty seven that night, while my father was in the shower, my mother sent an e-mail to her boss, it had no message, instead there was simply a red star next to the letter W.

Then, when dad emerged smiling from the shower, mom playfully pulled the towel from around my father's middle and sank to the carpet in front of him. I watched as her mouth engulfed his hardness. She swallowed dad's cum that night. Even dad could sense mom's wanton playfulness.

******

I'd assumed that Parker's cabin was going to be their destination and I wasn't disappointed. They'd left the office together at ten thirty in the morning, ostensibly to visit some properties (or so I heard them tell the agencies secretary through my hidden mike) but neither could hide their hungry smiles as they slipped into Parker's Mercedes.

I raced ahead and had reached the cabin and had hidden myself when Parkers car bounced up the last fifty yards of the rutted path ten minutes later. I'd already turned on the camera.

And then I'd sat back and watched the cabin for over a half hour, the whole time fighting the urge to sneak up to the window and watch them. But I knew my camera was rolling.

But then suddenly the door opened and mother backed out into the sunlight. I watched her as she talked to the still hidden Parker, then heard her laugh as she turned and then ran laughing to the river bank. She was naked!

He followed...also naked...his penis sticking out, his engorged cock pointing the way as he chased mom into the water. It was bigger than dad's, both longer and thicker. If I'd had a gun in my hands that day Mr. Graham Parker would have been dickless before his feet hit the water.

And yet I did nothing. Instead I watched him pull my willing, giggling mom into his arms. I watched as her lips urgently sought out his. I watched as he carried her wet naked body to the grassy bank.

"Little slut," he laughingly said, his loud words echoing around the clearing as he forced mom to her knees before him. "Suck it!" he ordered as his hands grabbed handfuls of mom's flowing hair.

"Make me," she challenged back, her eyes gleaming in excitement as they looked up at the man towering above her.

"Eat it bitch," Parker yelled than cracked his palm against her cheek.

"Bastard," she hissed back but then hungrily attacked the angry red, blood filled cylinder of meat that faced her. I watched stunned, both by the violence of the slap and the angry language, and by the way mom devoured the thick cock. Nothing I'd seen in the weeks of watching mom and dad had prepared me for this new animalistic woman on her knees. She was a woman I'd never encountered before.

"Enough," Parker finally cried, then pushed mom's mouth off his prick before roughly pushing her face down onto the grass. "On your stomach slut," he ordered, then moved behind Mrs. Stanley Miller and brought his saliva coated penis towards the crack in her butt.

"In your ass today slut?" he asked as he slid his cock between mom's cheeks.

"Fuck you."

"No, I think I'll save that for later," he laughed as he rammed his cock into my mother's pussy.

It went on and on. I watched spellbound as he slapped mom's ass repeatedly as his cock spat his filthy cum inside her. Watched afterwards when she cleaned his prick with her tongue.

I masturbated as I watched. I couldn't help it. With tears running down my cheeks. Realizing suddenly that I wanted to fuck my mother as badly as I wanted to kill the prick who was grinding his body on top of her.

All that afternoon they continued. My mother screamed out her orgasms...her satisfaction a series of loud moans interspersed with vile, coarse demands. I came four times while I watched. And as I watched I started to make plans...

AUGUST - MR. PARKER

I'd been spying on Mr. Parker too of course. Knew that it wasn't just mom that this middle aged Romeo was fucking. But it was mom he was going to pay for. And when it happened he was going to know exactly who and what he was paying for.

It was mid August, three weeks after I'd followed him and mom to the cabin in the woods, three weeks since I'd got proof positive he was screwing my mom. It was time for him to pay for his transgressions!

Mom and Dad had gone to the Big Apple for a two week holiday in mid August, leaving me alone to mind the store as dad had so aptly put it.

"I can't come?" I'd asked when they'd told me, not wanting to miss a chance to spend some time in New York.

"You got a job junior," Dad had laughed in answer. "Besides, your mom and I have plans, private plans," he teased as he looked over at mom with his attempt at an evil, sexy leer.

So I stayed home. The Taser C-2, which I'd ordered as part of my plan, arrived on the Monday morning of their first week away. I'd charged the $389.99 to dad's Visa card, knowing he'd heartily approve the investment given the spate of robberies that had been occurring in our neighborhood lately. Protection for mom I'd tell him if he ever asked.

I still had the bug on Parker's office phone so I was easily able to follow his plans and movements. And it turned out to be ridiculously easy. When I checked the tapes Thursday night I heard him talking with his wife, going through a long, drawn out explanation about how he had to go to Richmond for the weekend.

His next call was to a married woman who he'd sold a house in a town thirty miles away to three months earlier. I listened to the tape as the prick arranged a dirty weekend at the seashore with her. Heard him tell her how he'd booked a suite at the Marriott on Virginia Beach for the next night.

They arranged to drive their own cars and meet there. "I'll be there by eleven sweetie," were his last promised words before hanging up. Not fucking likely I thought as I sat listening. The next morning I put my motorcycle in the back of dad's pickup and drove it out to the cabin in the woods where I left it hidden in the brush. My escape vehicle.

He came out of his office at seven thirty the next night, and was smiling broadly as he walked towards his car which was the only one left in the small, poorly lit parking lot behind his building. He thought he'd be getting laid in a few hours; instead I hit him with the Taser two seconds after he'd unlocked and opened the car door. It took another ten seconds to handcuff and gag him, then throw him unceremoniously into his trunk.

Thirty minutes later I pulled the Caddy up in front of his cabin. I hadn't been gentle with the car as I'd bounced up the rutted track. By the time Graham Parker started to come around he was naked, spread eagled, his arms and legs tied to the four corners of the bed. He was already starting to bruise from the pounding he'd taken in the trunk. Too fucking bad!

He awoke to find a tall, black clad man, his face completely masked, looming over him.

He was still woozy from the jolt of Tasered electricity he'd received and I simply watched silently as his slowly clearing eyes moved around the room and over me, trying to figure out what was going on.

"I think you got the wrong guy," he finally said, trying to sound confident but unable to hide the tremor of fear in his voice. His eyes were scared.

"Not if you're Mr. Graham Parker," I answered pleasantly, disguising my voice.

"Is this my cabin?" he asked, stalling, wondering what it was all about. "I don't have much money on me...I don't," he started to add but I smashed him in the face with a short hard jab of my left fist.

"What the fuck mister?" he cried as blood started to trickle from the corner of his mouth.

"I was hired to cut off your dick Graham."

"Hired? My dick?" he asked, his befuddlement clear in his eyes.

"Do you know happen to know a Mr. Stanley Miller?" I asked. His eyes flickered open in surprise at the name but he stayed quiet. "He took his wife to New York," I continued. "Felt it would be better if he wasn't in Roanoke when it happened."

"When what happened? Who are you?" he demanded as he flexed his arms and tested his restraints.

"It's nothing personal on my part Graham. It's simply my job," I said in the iciest tone the man had probably ever heard.

"I didn't do anything...we haven't done anything...I promise... ahhhhhh," his words stopped by a blow to his stomach.

"You've been sleeping with another man's wife Graham."

"It's her fault...Christ man, she's a slut...can't get enough of it...god, you must know what its like," he stammered, spittle flying from his mouth as he made his excuses.

"Her husband, the guy who hired you, he can hardly get it up," he added just before I smashed another fist into his face.

"Please," he pled, crying now, "I'm sorry...I won't ever touch her again."

"Not with your cock anyway," I said quietly as I pulled the blade from it's sheathe and held it up in the candlelight.

"Please...please mister... no, noooo I beg you," he screamed as his eyes followed the knife as it slowly descended towards his groin. Straining to free himself from the ropes, his body was arching off the bed as I brought the tip of the blade to his cock. He was sobbing as he watched me draw the sharp point from the fat base of his penis slowly upward, leaving a hair line of blood in its wake.

He shit himself!

I didn't kill Graham Parker that night. Nor did I cut off his cock. Nor even slit his sack and cut the balls from his body. I simply couldn't. I left him an hour later lying in his blood and urine and feces, blubbering like a baby, his nose broken.

As I drove away from the cabin that night on my motorcycle, the air whistling through my hair, I couldn't help but wonder if it wouldn't be better if I'd killed the prick.

FALL 2006 -- PLANS

Mr. Parker never slept with my mother again! In fact, in mid September, after a huge argument he'd provoked, in front of the whole agency staff, he fired her. But he did give her a six month severance check!

Mom started work a week later at her old agency who'd been elated to have her back. Life returned to normal. School was back in, my senior year had started. I continued to fuck Susie but that was all it was now. And every time I pumped my cock between my girlfriend's legs it was mom's face I saw.

I'd practically stopped using the cameras to watch dad and mom making love that fall after school started. Instead I'd started to watch mom more and more when she was alone, naked coming out of the shower, or sitting naked on the toilet, or changing her clothes. Twice on film I'd caught her masturbating and as the weeks passed I could see her increasing frustration. The animal in her was stirring. I knew it was only a matter of time before she went looking for another man. I was getting ready.

HALLOWEEN PARTY

The Fitzroy's, Bob and Cathy, whose backyard backed directly onto ours, had held a neighborhood Halloween party for as long as I could remember. It was always held on the closest Saturday night to the 31st and that year it was to be held on October 28th.

The adults started to arrive at the Fitzroy's around nine p.m. Costumed and masked. It's strange what clean living, middle aged suburbanites will do when they have their faces masked and bodies costumed and a few drinks inside themselves. It was that one night of the year when they dared to do things that they couldn't or wouldn't do any other night of the year.

Jimmy and Susie and I had actually crashed it the year before, had moved anonymously through the crowds of adults for over an hour before we'd fled laughing back to the teenagers party at the White's house. I'd even danced with two women that night, had held them tight against me while they'd tried to guess which of their neighbors was holding them. So I was pretty sure that I'd be able to pass. I was worried that mom might recognize my voice but my drama club training and the way I'd fooled Parker had given me the confidence to believe I could fool her.

My plan had slowly evolved over those fall weeks, until I'd finally decided to fuck mom without her having any idea who it was who was doing her. Rape her anonymously.

I knew I'd be able to get her alone. And I knew that dad and a few of his cronies would end up in the Fitzroy basement watching TV and discussing sports after they'd had a couple of pints. Dad didn't do much dancing.

10:55 p.m. OCTOBER 28TH HALLOWEEN PARTY, the FITZROYS

I watched silently as mom left the kitchen and slipped out the patio doors and started to move across the backyard towards the gap in the hedge that led to our yard. She was caught for a second by a short overweight guy who sported a George Bush mask. I thought it might be Mr. Boyd, our car insurance agent, and I had to laugh as he danced her around in a circle before she eluded his grasp. I was a shadow, right behind her when she slipped into our yard.

She was wearing a blond, pig tailed wig over her beautiful black hair, part of her Little Bo Peep costume that featured a knee length pleated skirt and white blouse from which a good third of her breasts spilled out the top. I was dressed as Zorro, a bearded and masked Zorro who's only sword was already hard and erect between my legs.

"Stan...is that you Stan?" mom whispered as my hands circled her from behind and moved over her breasts.

"No," I mumbled through my mask, "Its not." I pulled her back hard against my body and my cock.

"Who is it?" she asked, still not terribly alarmed as she tried to turn her head. Halloween party shenanigans she was probably still thinking.

"Who would you like it to be?" I whispered seductively in her ear.

"Graham?" mom asked as I pushed her blouse and bra down and off her breasts. "Not here...stop it...please Graham," she pled as I cupped her naked breasts in my hands, then she started finally to struggle to escape.

"I've wanted you for years slut," I said huskily, pulling her back again so her bum was tight against my raging erection.

"You've had too much to drink...it's not funny...stop it, Christ, it was you who wanted to end it," she insisted, still thinking it was Graham who was mauling her.

"I've watched you...with your husband...with Graham...with the others, I've always wanted to fuck you, fuck your hot little cunt," I growled as I pushed my hand under her skirt and panties and then roughly pushed a finger inside her.

"Are you crazy? Who is it? Charley? Don? Bob?" she demanded as she struggled to pull away.

"Slut," I growled as I put one hand over her mouth and then forced her body down onto our backyard lawn, tearing the thin panties from her as I bore her down.