Two Moms, Two Laps: Rage

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Tx Tall Tales
Tx Tall Tales
20,300 Followers

"She seems to like it," he argued.

"Trust me Colin. What did your Mom say?"

He thought about it a bit. "I should stop?"

"Don't go in her clothes. Not this time. If she feels she was too easy you might not get a second shot. You'll scare her off. Second base and kissing. Take a few breaks. Let her make a bit of a move. Got it?"

"Alright. You think I can get a real date with her?"

"Get her number when we eat. Tell her you'll call. Phone her tomorrow. You should be fine."

He was, and Penny and I were as proud as new parents. Aunt Marie was especially happy, and made sure I knew it. Not as much as we had in the past, but it was a really nice little make-out session.

Mom seemed to be in a great mood all week, except there was still that distance between us now. She was nervous if I even touched her. We had a little talk about it.

"We can't do anything, Jeremy."

"I know Mom. I'm not talking about that. What we had before it all went south. The hugs. Little kisses. That's all. It's like there's a wall between us."

"I can't take the chance. God I want to, you have no idea how hard it is not to fall into your arms. I can't get started. I won't be able to quit."

I was disappointed but I could be patient.

"How're things with Aunt Marie?"

"Getting better. We had lunch. She's really happy about you guys helping Colin out. You know he has a date Saturday?"

"Yeah. Just the two of them. We'll talk. He gets carried away."

"You're teenagers. You're allowed to get a little carried away."

"He was opening her pants and trying to get into her panties, an hour into the movie."

"Talk to him. But be gentle, this is a big deal for Colin."

Penny was dealing with the other half of the equation, gabbing to her friends, breaking Kelly in, telling her how lucky she was to have Colin. She seemed to be going for it.

Like I said, four days of near bliss. I should say three-and-a-half.

* * *

It was Friday afternoon. Penny was going shopping with her parents. Looked like her Mom was right about her getting the car if she buttered up her father. To hear her tell it, the atmosphere at their house was like a second honeymoon, and her parents weren't being subtle at all. Open blowjobs had become the new norm. She'd been on the phone with her older sister Dani, warning her about the changes at home.

I was home in my room. I heard my parents arguing. It sounded like it was coming from their bedroom.

Dad walked down the hall, his arms full of Mom's things. He was headed for the guest room. It upset me to see the relationship turning sour again. It had been going so well.

"You always have to push, push, push," Dad growled, going back for another load, while Mom paced him, whining.

"Is this how you're going to handle everything?" she yelled. "Every time you're unhappy, you're going to throw me out of our bedroom?"

"Until you learn to love and respect me, I don't see I have any other choice," Dad answered, carrying a drawer of her things.

"Jesus, Howard. I only asked to loosen up your damn rules. Be reasonable!"

"No, Alice! That's over. Done with," Dad was returning with the empty drawer.

"I'm not asking for what we had. I just need to feel comfortable around him. I'm nervous all the time. I'm afraid to touch him."

"You shouldn't be touching him."

"Don't be an ass, Harold! Hugs, an arm around the waist. Kisses like we had before. Affection, not passion. That's all I'm asking. You said you were going to trust me."

"We both know how you are. You don't know when to stop."

"He'll stop me, if he has to. You know he will."

"He shouldn't have to, should he? Am I not enough for you? What the hell is the problem?" His voice rose for a second, then quieted again.

I felt awkward listening in, but I didn't want to interrupt. I had the door cracked, and watched them march back and forth with her things. This was the worse fight yet. I didn't understand it. Each little thing seemed to be blowing up bigger and bigger.

"It's not that," Mom whined. "You're wonderful. Perfect. I don't want anyone but you. I need Jeremy back. I feel like I'm losing him."

"He's got a girlfriend. They're happy. You don't need to be stealing him from her."

"Damn it, Harold! You know that's not what I'm talking about."

"What are you talking about?" he sneered.

"You know. Affection. Not sex. It's killing me to be around him all the time, after what we had, and not be able to do anything."

"I don't want to hear about what you had. This conversation is finished."

"No it's not! I'm going to do it. I have to. I won't go too far."

"No you won't, Alice." I recognized that tone. His 'and-that's-final' tone.

"I will! It's only for a couple of weeks until he leaves anyway. What's the harm?"

"You will, will you?" he asked, his voice scary calm. That was a bad sign.

"Yes. It's my body, and he's my son. I'm not going to let you stand between us. I'm tired to you ordering me around. I'm sick of you playing this game with where I sleep. Kicking me out of our bedroom. I'm not your possession!"

"You're going to fuck him again, aren't you?"

"Why would you say that? I told you, affection only. That's all I'm asking for. You don't have to be crude."

"Do what you want. Fuck him if you want. I'm tired of all this shit. I don't care anymore." I heard him walking away, his voice fading.

"MAYBE I WILL!" Mom screamed at him.

Mom ran past, directly to their bedroom and slammed the door.

* * *

When she hadn't come out after an hour, I knocked. "Mom?"

"Go away, Jeremy. Just go away."

Not happening. I opened the door. "I heard it. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"Why? Why can't he even try to understand?" Her face was a mess, red, teary eyed.

I sat down beside her. Aunt Marie style, holding her, not saying anything.

"See, baby? Even this. We're not allowed to do this. How is it wrong for my boy to hold me?"

"It's not wrong, Mom, but we have to give him time. We both hurt him badly."

"We don't have time! You're going off to school. You're leaving me. I'll never have you again. Not like now."

"Sure you will. Weekends, summers, holidays for the next four years, at least."

"But you'll be with her."

Those words surprised me. "Penny? You're not jealous of Penny are you?"

"She gets all of you, and I get nothing! Nothing! What happened, Jeremy? I thought you loved me? I was number one. You loved me the most. You don't even have time for me anymore."

I kissed her neck, sliding behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "I love you, Mom. You'll always be number one. We have to cool it. Give Dad time. Let him accept us back together."

"He'll never do it. You were supposed to win me, baby. Me. Make me yours. Why did you give up on me?" She pulled out of my arms, turning around and wrapping her arms and legs around me. "I thought you loved me. Really loved me."

She was breaking my heart. I kissed her lips softly, breaking away before it could get too intense. "Of course I love you. I'll talk to Dad, alright? There's nothing wrong with this. What we're doing now. I'll make sure he knows it. That I know where to draw the line. Let me take care of it, Ok?"

"He kicked me out of our bedroom. He walked out on me. He never does that."

I hugged her, feeling her breasts press against my chest. I could smell her hair, her skin. Her lips caressing my neck. God, I wanted her.

"We hurt him. Now you defied him. Like he didn't matter. That's not the way and you know it."

"Just hold me, Jeremy. Let me pretend."

That's how Dad found us.

"I knew you two wouldn't waste any time. Couldn't wait to jump in her bed could you, you little fuck!"

Yep. He was angry.

Mom was slow getting off of me, staring back at him in open defiance.

"We didn't do anything, Dad. She was crying. I came in to comfort her."

"I know how you comfort her. She's got her own bedroom now. Take her there. I don't care anymore. Take her and fuck her. Just not here. I need my bedroom."

He'd been standing in the doorway, and I only then realized that Aunt Marie was peeking around the door.

I got out of the bed, as pissed off as he was. "What the fuck, Dad? You have an argument and this is how you handle it? What about all that bullshit advice you keep handing me?"

"My advice is get your ass out of my room, and take your whore mother with you."

I heard Mom gasp.

"No Dad. Not like this. I'm not going to let you."

"Like you can stop me. Let it go, Jeremy. Your Mom's a hot piece. She's single now. Enjoy her."

"What are you going to do, Harold?" Mom asked nervously, standing at my side, clinging to my arm.

"What I should have done long ago. You want to screw around? Go right ahead. I can do the same, right Marie?"

Marie had her head down. I couldn't believe it when she nodded.

"NO!" I yelled at him. "You're not going to fuck things up like this. Not this way. We didn't do anything!"

"You didn't fuck her three times?"

"Harold!" Mom shrieked.

"Three times. And now you want more. You'll do it whether I like it or not. Well go ahead then. I'm going to screw your gorgeous sister's sexy brains out. Fuck those outrageous titties..."

This was ridiculous. "MARIE!" I shouted. "GO TO MY ROOM!"

She looked up in shock. "J...Jeremy?"

"NOW, MARIE!"

Dad stepped toward me. "You don't get to tell anyone what to do in my house. She's not going anywhere." His voice was icy, eerily calm.

I ignored him. "GO, MARIE! I WON'T SAY IT AGAIN!"

She stepped back a couple of steps, and Dad went ballistic. I didn't see it coming until I was picking myself up off the floor, cheek aching.

"Get the fuck out of my house, you little prick!" he screamed.

I guess he didn't expect me to stand up to him. I never had. I never thought I would. I launched myself at his waist, driving him into the corner of the dresser beside the door. It wasn't intentional, but I could tell it hurt by his grunt. His fist came down on my back, punishing me.

Mom was screaming at us both, but I wasn't listening. I stood just before his knee would have taken my head off, and drove my fist into his gut, forcing him back awkwardly over the dresser. I got a couple of good shots in, before he rang my bell. Shit, he hit harder than I could imagine possible.

It got ugly. I went for his throat, and he tried to knee me in the nuts. Neither of us hit our targets, but it was obvious there was no holding back. Punching him wasn't working, and he got another shot in while I threw him to the side, knocking over the tall upright dresser.

He fell and kicked out at my knee, folding it. A few inches forward and he might have taken it out. I was furious and swept all the items off the dresser onto him, including the TV. He put his arm up to stop it, and I kicked him as hard as I could, right in the ribs, while he was distracted.

Mom started pulling me away, and he took advantage of the fact to get off the ground and ram his shoulder into my gut. We rolled on the floor, kicking, gouging, punching. He got up before I could and kneed me in the side of the head, a glancing blow, making me see stars. Mom must have intervened. When I could see again, she was standing between us screaming.

I stood up, and could taste the blood in my mouth. "You too, Mom." I spit a mouthful of blood on her floor.

She stopped yelling and looked at me. It must have not been good, because I could see the concern in her eyes. "Stop it. Both of you," she pleaded.

"Go to my room, Mom. Now. Take your sister with you."

"You're going to kill each other!" she shrieked.

"NOW! GO!" I grabbed her arm and yanked her aside.

Dad was breathing hard. Bleeding from the side of his head, holding his side awkwardly. "I don't want to hurt you, boy."

"Too bad."

"You get the whore. Isn't that what you wanted?"

I launched myself at him, and we exchanged punches. My ears were ringing, and I collapsed to one knee. I saw him shift his weight, and I knew he was going to kick me. I went with it, rolling backward, and managed to catch his calf, pulling him down. His head hit the wall hard, as he fell. I was on top of him swinging wildly, then I was under him, getting the worst of it. I managed to kick him off, and he stood back, glaring at me, as I slowly rose to one knee again.

"You're going to get hurt, we keep this up," he growled.

"Bring it on, old man," I told him, standing.

He did, and I got the worst of it again. I couldn't even feel my left arm. Didn't stop me from driving my fist into his crotch from my knees. Twice.

He fell back against the bed, hunched over.

I got up again. Had to use the wall to help me.

"It's broken. Your arm," he sneered.

"Only need one to kick your ass, old man."

"You're the one getting your ass kicked, junior."

"That was wrong, bringing Marie here like that."

"Fuck you," he growled, and leaped off the bed.

He was slowing down. Maybe it was the crotch shot. I saw it coming. He missed me, driving his fist into the wall with all his weight. He caught a stud, and I could hear the crack. I hit him on the side of the head with all I had, and he dropped to his knees. I followed that up with a knee to the cheek, and he hit the ground.

I straddled him, full mount, and drove my right hand into his head repeatedly. He tried to block it with his arms, and twist out from under me, but he was gassed. With one last burst of energy, he arched his back, pushed my hips downward, squirming, freeing one of his, to get me into half-guard. A mistake. This wasn't wrestling. I drove my knee between his legs, hard. When I lifted to do it again, he rolled away giving me his back. I was straddling him again, and started pounding him. He covered his head, but I was out of control. Rabbit punches, elbows, shots to the temple. He stopped resisting.

"I am going to fuck them. Both of them," I growled.

My left arm was numb from the bicep down. I couldn't even see, my vision blurred. Too tired to hit him anymore, I sat upright and felt myself toppling over.

I was seated, leaning against the bed, Mom huddled over Dad. Aunt Marie was kneeling beside me, a bloody towel in her hands, wiping my head.

Mom glared at me. "What have you done? He's your father, Jeremy! Your father!"

"This one's going to need stitches," Aunt Marie said, wiping my head.

* * *

The hospital was a blur. I didn't even remember how we got there. I had a hyper-extended elbow, a sprained knee, and 18 stitches in my forehead. They gave me an ice-pack for the side of my face. My hands hurt like a motherfucker.

We had to wait almost another hour for them to bring Dad out. Broken hand, broken nose, bruised kidney, bruised testicles, light concussion. His ribs weren't broken like we thought they might have been. but they'd wrapped them anyway. He looked like shit.

It was after midnight, and the women weren't even talking to us. Dad and I sat in the back seat. The music from the front drowned out whatever Mom and her sister were saying to each other.

"You lied," I told him, keeping my voice down.

"How?"

"My arm. It wasn't broken."

"I know. Radial nerve. Maybe a little hyper-extended. I thought you might stop." He grimaced as he shifted position.

"You tried to take out my knee," I said. "You could have crippled me for good."

"Sorry about that. I was angry."

"No shit."

"You could have stopped anytime. I would have," he said.

"No you wouldn't."

He chuckled, wincing. "Maybe not. I wouldn't have beat on you when you were down. Pussy move."

"I was scared to death you were going to get back up. I was blind at that point. If you got off the ground, you were going to kill me."

"You're my son, damn it! I wouldn't have killed you." He shifted, groaning. "Busted you up a little, maybe. Not like you didn't deserve it."

"How's your hand feeling?" I said, smirking.

"Like shit. You got lucky."

"No, you got slow. You telegraphed that one."

We rode in silence for a bit. Something was bothering me. "How come I didn't see that first punch?"

He laughed. "I taught you everything you know, not everything I know."

"You held back on me?" The idea really hurt.

He was quiet. "No. Not really. I always told you never to start a fight. That was how you start a fight. I'll show you later."

Silence.

"Sorry I kept hitting you at the end. I guess I lost it there," I said.

"No shit."

My leg was killing me, and I turned, trying to find a way to straighten it. The stupid brace was in the way.

"You're not sorry for anything?" I asked.

"Told you about the knee."

"Nothing else?"

"What do you want? You happy you beat me unconscious? Proud of yourself? Gonna rub my face in it? Wanna go again? Is that it? You gonna make me apologize now?"

"You shouldn't have brought her over like that. That was wrong. For both of them."

"So now you're going to teach me right from wrong? The little mother-fucker?"

"If I have to. I learned from the best."

"Maybe not," he mumbled.

I adjusted the wrap on my elbow. It was too tight. It felt like it was cutting off circulation. I straightened it a bit, and felt a bolt of pain shoot up my arm. Shit. Funny how my attention seemed to focus on one thing at a time, like tunnel-vision. I wondered if it was the pain drugs.

"Sorry about the crotch shots. I was getting desperate. Damn knee kept giving out. Couldn't figure out why I kept ending up on one knee."

"Take out the legs early. I told you that."

"I know. Didn't expect it from you. Pretty harsh."

"Harsh? You broke my fucking nose."

I chuckled. "Maybe now they won't keep saying how we're so much alike. I'm prettier."

"Too much alike, I guess. Got my temper too, didn't you?"

"Did Mom give me anything?"

"Her morals?"

Made me want to hit him again. If he was sitting on my right side, instead of my left, I might have. The idea of using my left arm made me nauseous.

"Sorry. That was uncalled for," he said.

"Like you have room to talk, after tonight," I growled.

"Said I'm sorry. Be a fucking man and accept it graciously."

"I won't let you hurt Mom, and I won't let you insult her. Call her a whore again, and we're going again."

"Just drop it, Ok? I was angry, and a little drunk. Hurt. I didn't mean it. She's my fuckin' wife."

We rode in silence for a while. "Besides, you started this whole mess," he said, and I could still hear the disappointment in his words.

"I know. You always told me there are three parts to an apology. Admit when you're wrong, apologize for hurting the other person, and do what you can to make it up to them." I leaned back, closing my eyes. "I know what I did was wrong, and I've never denied it. I never meant to hurt you, or this family, and I'm as sorry as can be. I've tried to make it up to you, accepting your rules, being honest. What more can I do, Dad? What do I have to do to make things right?"

"I don't know," he mumbled sadly.

We pulled into the garage, and a couple of minutes later I found myself sitting on the couch, Dad next to me, confronted by two irate sisters.

Mom stood in front of me, shaking with anger. "Apologize to your father."

"For what?" I wasn't trying to be a smart ass. The painkillers must have been kicking in. Everything was kind of fuzzy. Thinking took an effort.

"For what? How about for nearly killing him!"

Dad spoke up. "Lucky shot. I've had worse."

"Apologize, Jeremy! Do it!"

"Sorry I kicked your ass, Dad."

"Damn it, Jeremy! Do it right," Mom snapped.

"I already did, Mom. In the car."

That seemed to get me off the hook. Dad wasn't so lucky.

"And you!" Mom yelled, waving her finger in his face. "Starting a fight with your son? What were you thinking?"

"I didn't start it," he said. "He should have left things alone. This is my house. I'm still the father and husband."

Tx Tall Tales
Tx Tall Tales
20,300 Followers