Mallory and her Achilles Heel

I stepped out of the shower, happy and relieved that I was at last spotlessly clean. It was the third time I'd showered today. Wrapping a towel around me I walked back into the bedroom. A quick glance at the bedside clock confirmed what I already knew. It was almost time. I just had one last thing to do.

I shrugged off the towel, letting it fall to the floor and caught a glance of myself in the mirror. I ran my hands over my large breasts, my fingers catching on my swollen, erect nipples. I could feel the build up of heat between my legs and sensed that the nervous tension formed by a mix of fear and euphoria was already building inside my body. I had never felt more alive than I did at this moment and didn't know why. I put on my suspender belt and opened the packet that contained my brand new pair of stockings.

I reached for the phone. With trembling fingers I punched in my husband's number and put the phone on loudspeaker. As I smoothed the stockings up my toned, curvy legs my thoughts drifted.

Nearly fifteen years had passed since I'd hidden away those hateful memories. I had lodged them in the deepest recesses of my mind determined they would never escape. I'd thought if I kept them subdued and suppressed enough I would eventually forget them.

But a few brief hours ago it had all unravelled. The dam was broken and I could remember everything like it was yesterday. And it seemed there was no going back.

It all began not long after I'd turned eighteen ...

* * * * *

It was a normal school day. Normal that is until the lights went out.

"Okay everyone, settle down please." Mrs Wilson's shrill voice cut through the general hubbub of unease, quietening the class in an instant. As a teacher of long standing she was revered by all her pupils. Nobody messed with Mrs Wilson, she was old school.

"It looks like we've lost power." She looked over to the nearest pupil. "Danny, can you go and see what's happening please. Thank you."

"Okay people, take your seats and lets have a bit of hush until we find out what's going on."

I took my seat and looked over at my friend Tori and smiled. The class sat in silence until Danny returned.

"So Danny, what's the verdict?" Mrs Wilson asked as he walked back into the room.

* * *

I said goodbye to Tori and turned down the road towards my house. I was ecstatic, as was the whole school. The power outage was complete, everything was down with no hope of reconnection anytime soon so the decision had been made to send everyone home.

Where we live is regarded as being very up market. Every house in our gated community is supposedly worth in excess of $10 million. So I suppose you could say we're wealthy. Well Mom and Dad are. They're Clint and Meredith Eastwood. I'm their only child, Mallory Eastwood and I've just turned eighteen. And before you ask, no my Dad is not THAT Clint Eastwood. He's younger for one thing, only forty four years old and not remotely like him at all! Mom's thirty eight years of age, so she had me when she was barely twenty. I couldn't imagine having a child myself in two years time. No way.

Dad had a job first before he decided he'd be better off going back to college and getting a business degree. That's where he met Mom. She never graduated and I'll leave you to work out the math as to why she never did.

But having me didn't hold them back. Dad worked hard and then made his fortune when he took over a failing hotel chain and transformed it into one of the biggest and best in the country. He says he was lucky and happened to be in the right place at the right time. I say we make our own luck in life although I guess having a famous namesake didn't do him much harm either.

He's always busy and most times he's in another state checking on the hotels to make sure each one of them is up to scratch and running smoothly. He had this idea that he should be more hands on and actually work alongside his employees from time to time to see first hand what they put up with on a day to day basis. He seems to get a lot out of it and his workforce love that he's willing to muck in with them. He's a popular boss.

It's hard on Mom but she never seems to complain and keeps busy while he's away. She's on several charity boards as well as being a committee member of a particular social welfare program. Dad made a big point of encouraging her to join the committee of that one, especially as he said it was a subject close to his heart. He came from humble beginnings and has never forgotten that fact. He said he wanted to help those people who are less fortunate than us. The program is designed for people who have been made homeless or are down on their luck and can't get work for one reason or another. It's to help them get back on their feet and back into the workplace.

He even went so far as to employ one himself. Ed Harris is his name and he's been our gardener for a year or so now. Personally he gives me the creeps. It's the way he looks at me. It's like he's undressing me with his eyes as he runs his gaze up and down my body. And when he does he makes a point of deliberately licking his lips before blowing me a kiss and then grinning at me.

Yuck, it's disgusting! And not only that he's also really ugly and smells! I guess his age is around fifty something but it's hard to tell. He just looks really old and he doesn't shave very often or wash his hair for that matter. I would love it if Dad would fire him but that's never going to happen.

His perving over me started soon after he started working for us. It was little things to start off with, nothing serious. If I walked past him he would stop doing whatever it was and stand and stare at me. But then it got worse. He would then play with his crotch, blatantly rubbing it with his hand before thrusting out his hips as if to simulate the act of sex.

I know I'm considered a late bloomer. I was still a flat chested tomboy at sixteen and had no interest in boys and sex and all that other stuff that most girls of that age seem to be into. But all that started to change as my breasts grew. Even with my fairly sheltered upbringing I knew what he was trying to signify. I'm not that naive. As I approached my eighteenth birthday it got progressively worse as he ramped up his ogling of my body.

I'm in the school cheer-leading squad and we'd been practising hard for an upcoming competition. There was one day I'd come home in my outfit and carried on doing some basic exercises along with dry running through the whole routine, trying to embed it in my memory.

The next thing I see is Ed clicking away with a camera and the camera has a telephoto lens on it. God knows where he'd got them from seeing as how he was supposed to have no money. They were probably stolen. Anyway he made no attempt to hide that he was getting close up shots of my boobs and legs and my ass. But what sealed it was when he lay down on the grass and was clearly trying to take pictures of my panties under my skirt. Before I ran back into the house I called over to him to stop what he was doing. He just laughed at me, told me I was hot and he couldn't wait until I turned eighteen.

Obviously I was incensed and told him impolitely where to go but he just laughed at me again. Later when I told my Mom she made light of it and told me to ignore him. She said he was just an old goat and he would more than likely stop bugging me if I didn't react to his taunts.

I didn't know what Mom meant by that term and I admit her scant advice surprised me a little but I put it down to the fact Ed had been employed by Dad through the social program she was a committee member of and she didn't want to cause him any problems.

Now my Dad's quite handsome but my Mom is drop dead gorgeous. She really is a very beautiful woman and people say I've inherited her good looks. Mom also has what I've heard referred to as a voluptuous figure, which apparently is large breasts, narrow waist, wide hips and a full round ass.

I think maybe I've inherited most of her body too although I'm not that voluptuous. After my slow start I've now got large, heavy breasts, which do tend to get in the way a bit when I'm doing my cheer-leading routines. I've had them measured and they are presently 32DD and apparently still growing. I've a fairly narrow waist as well but my hips and ass are regulation size. My thighs however are quite curvy and they're certainly toned. I think they're my best feature. I suppose I'm your typical senior high school, cheer-leading teenager with long blonde hair and blue eyes. And I suppose you could say I'm popular with the boys now, although I've never done ... well you know!

Anyway, that afternoon after being let out early from school I arrived home to find the house was empty. I was surprised as Mom's car was parked in the driveway so she couldn't have been out anywhere. I called out for her but got no response. I went through every room before heading up the stairs. All the bedrooms were empty too.

Whilst I was up there I got changed into some casual clothes and as I went to go downstairs I glanced out the window. We have a lot of land with our house but from my bedroom window I can see the gardener's shed. Well you can't really miss it as it's so big. I could see that the door to the shed was open and I could see a jacket hung on the door handle. The thing was, even from this distance it looked like one of Mom's designer jackets. Most odd.

I descended the stairs and went outside. As I got nearer to the shed I could see my first impression had been right. It was Mom's jacket. And then I heard voices.

"Mom, are you there?" I tentatively called out as I slowed my approach.

I edged nearer. I could distinctly hear muffled voices coming out of the shed now.

"I said get off me!"

I jerked back in surprise. There was no mistaking the sound of Mom's voice and it sounded like she was in distress. I moved purposefully towards the open door.

"Ohhhh ... fuuucckkk ... don't do that to me!"

That stopped me dead in my tracks. There was something altogether different about Mom's voice now. Dare I say there even seemed to be a hint of breathlessness about it.

"You like that don't you, you dirty bitch!"

My eyes opened wide as I recognised the unmistakable voice of our gardener Ed Harris.

"Ohhhh ... fuuucckk ... yeess."

Mom's voice was decidedly breathy now. I was struggling to comprehend what I was hearing. My whole body was trembling as I peeked around the door and into the shed.

And then I wished I hadn't bothered.

Mom was dressed to the nines. All her outfits are expensive but she was wearing what looked like her best going out clothes. I knew for a fact that the dress she was wearing cost her $5,000 but it was presently hitched up around her waist. This gave me the opportunity to see she was wearing stockings and suspenders and a pair of expensive stiletto heels.

"Mom?" I tried to speak but the word just died before I could say it. I watched in open mouthed horror at the sight before me.

My beautiful mother was laying on her back on top of a filthy work bench. I could clearly see bits of earth and compost strewn all over it. Her long slender legs were dangling over the edge of the bench and were spread wide. Hanging from one of her feet, caught by the strap of her shoe was what looked to be her lace panties. And standing between her legs was Ed Harris. His stained and soiled work trousers were pooled around his ankles along with what looked like a pair of dirty grey briefs. I guess they could have been white once upon a time.

I could just about make out that he had his hand at the top of her legs and was rubbing it furiously into her. Mom was now moaning and groaning and urging him on. I'd never heard her swear so much and I didn't like it.

"Tell me how much you want this Mrs Eastwood," Ed said to my Mom.

"Ohhh ... nooo ... you're a bastard ... ohhh fuuucckk ... and you disgust me ... you fucking cunt ... ooooooo," I could tell Mom's breathing was distinctly ragged.

Ed just laughed at her. He must have squeezed her breasts hard because I saw Mom visibly rise up off the bench as she squealed in what I took to be great pain.

"Ohhh ... yeess ... do it again," Mom shrieked. Obviously not then!

"Come on Mrs Eastwood ... tell me you want me to fuck you ... you'll not get it until you beg for it." Ed continued to thrust his fingers into Mom.

"Fuck ... I want ... I want you ... to fuck me," Mom stammered as she thrust her hips down. I could see her legs were shaking rapidly now and Ed's hand was a blur. It was as if she was having a fit. "Pleeaassee ... fuck me ... you bastard ... pleeaasse."

"I can't hear you Meredith!" He spat Mom's name out. "You haven't said the magic word yet."

"Okay ... I'm begging ... you ... put it ... fuuuck me ... in ... pleeaasse." Mom's whole body was shaking now. I could feel tears of shame welling up in my eyes. The tears of shame my Mom should have been shedding.

But she just screamed as Ed presumably shoved his cock inside her pussy. You see, I know dirty words too.

I watched mesmerised as Ed took my mother and fucked her. It would strike me later that he rutted her like an animal. There was no sense of compassion, no tenderness, no love, just hard core sex. And judging by Mom's vocal reactions she was loving it.

I could smell Ed's disgusting stench from where I was, so how Mom was managing to put up with it I didn't know. I felt I was going to be sick, my stomach was churning and I could taste the bile as it rose up my throat. I finally dragged myself backwards but in my haste to get away stumbled slightly and banged into the door. It creaked loudly and Mom's designer jacket fell off the door handle.

I stood frozen to the spot. Through the crack between the frame and the door I saw Ed turn. I saw a sick grin appear on his face. He'd seen me! I watched as he turned back and thrust even harder into Mom who just screamed even more.

I ran back to the house, stumbling and staggering in my desire to get away, the tears already coursing down my cheeks from the shame and the guilt. How could I even look at my Mom again after what I'd just witnessed? Why was she letting our filthy, disgusting, smelly pervert of a gardener fuck her? How could she be cheating on my Dad, especially with him. And what about Dad, should I tell him what I'd seen?

I rushed upstairs and made it to my bathroom just in time to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Staggering back into my bedroom I threw myself on the bed, buried my face into the pillow and cried myself to sleep.

It was dark when I awoke. Mom had obviously been in and found me because I now had a blanket over me. The memory of Mom laid on her back with Ed stood between her legs and fucking her came flooding back. I got up, retched and staggered back into the bathroom and threw up again. This time it hurt. It was all bile. I drank a glass of water and crawled back into bed. Sleep came to me eventually.

The following morning, Mom came looking for me. I was still in bed. There was no way I was going to school today.

"Are you okay honey?" she asked. She did look concerned.

"No," I answered coldly.

"Do you want me to get the doctor out to you?"

"No thanks."

"What's the matter sweety, you don't seem right," Mom said, "is there something bothering you?"

God I SO wanted to say something! How about, I saw you fucking the gardener yesterday!

"No, I'm fine, I just feel a little bit sick, that's all."

"Okay sweety. Well if you want anything, just let me know." She put her hand on my forehead. "You do feel a little clammy so I think it's best if you stop off school. I'll call them and tell them you won't be in today." She moved away from the bed and I saw she was dressed in her smart going out at night clothes. They were eerily similar to the clothes she was wearing yesterday afternoon.

"Mom, why are you wearing those clothes?" I asked. I felt my stomach churn over.

"No reason," she replied lightly. "I was just trying them on to see if they still fit. Your father's taking me to a charity fund raiser when he gets back, that's all." She was almost at my bedroom door now. The lie seemed to trip off her tongue so easily that it was almost believable. It would explain the dress but not the stockings and high heels.

"Mom ..." I paused as I persuaded myself to say the next words, "... do you still love Dad?" That stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned slowly and looked at me closely.

"Of course I do sweety. What a strange think to ask!" I could see the surprised look on her face and the slightly bemused smile on her lips. "Why are you asking me such a question?"

"No reason," I shrugged.

"Right I've got to get on. I've got a charity board meeting later. Are you going to be alright here on your own?"

"Yes Mom, I'll be fine," I answered. I watched as Mom went downstairs.

I waited a while and then got out of bed to look out the window. I was just in time to see mom approaching the garden shed. She paused at the shed door and then I saw Ed Harris come out to stand in front of her. She was obviously telling him something and I thought, judging by his body language, it wasn't something he was particularly enamoured with.

He went back inside the shed as Mom turned sharply on her heels and came back towards the house, looking up at my window as she did. I managed to duck behind the curtain just in time.

Dad returned from his trip a couple of days later and Mom seemed genuinely pleased to see him. So much so that I heard them having sex not long after he got back in the house. Now that was unusual. Either that or I'd never overheard them before. But then again I had been trying to keep tabs on Mom every waking hour since 'the incident'.

I decided that everything was okay in their marriage and that I shouldn't confront Mom or tell Dad what I had witnessed. Let sleeping dogs lie was my thoughts on the subject. Unfortunately this didn't stop me from time to time thinking about what I had witnessed and I admit that for some inexplicable reason I was curious. But why and what I was curious about I had no idea.

it was about a week later that I returned home from school to find the house empty and no cars in the garage. Even Ed's old truck was gone. We'd finished off the day with yet another practice session for the competition so I was still wearing my cheerleaders outfit.

I don't know what prompted me but I found myself drawn towards the gardener's shed. There was no pre thought out plan of action and I certainly had no clue as to what I thought I was going to find in there. All I did have was an overwhelmingly perverse desire to see close up the exact spot my mom had let the gardener fuck her.

I cautiously crept into the shed through the open door. I could scarcely breathe and then realised I was holding my breath. I exhaled and stupidly giggled to myself in nervous relief.

I approached the bench. If I was expecting there to be something magical or mystical about it, I was sadly disappointed. It was what it was. A wooden work bench. And it was covered in muck and bits and bobs of gardening crap.

"Yeah, it was right there!"

The loud voice jolted me and I felt my stomach drop. I knew instantly who was behind me. I turned slowly to face Ed Harris. He was leering at me as his eyes flicked from my body to the bench and back again.

"That WAS what you came looking for, wasn't it," he said as he advanced slowly towards me, his smell preceding him. I could see his eyes were fixed on my boobs. I tried to move but my feet failed to respond to my brain's request to start. I swallowed hard as he got nearer to me.

"I ... I ..."

"What did you expect to see Mallory?"

I was shocked. That was the first time he'd ever called me by my name.