The Son Also Rises

"It is on my face," she screamed, "Get it off my face."

Her hand squeezed harder and I sent more fluid into the air. Eventually, I nearly passed out from the intense ejaculation. The pain was as great as the pleasure. I had never experienced anything like this before.

Finally, my stepmother stood up. She screamed because sticky white goo dripped from her hair and all over her face.

"Oh my God," yelled my stepmother, "When is the last time you blew a load?"

I didn't reply. I was struggling to breathe. My ten-inch penis was still erect and I was still in pain. Still, I could not take my eyes off of my beautiful and naked stepmother. As expected, she was extremely angry.

"Stop looking at me," she screamed.

My stepmother picked up her fallen bathrobe and marched out of the room. When she finally left the room, my erection subsided. Only then was able to breathe normally. I collapsed in my bed. I was shaking all over. Sweat poured from my face. I was exhausted.

The next morning, my stepmother did not come to see me in my room. Instead, she sent Betty to my room with my breakfast. After breakfast, I went to find my stepmother. I didn't want her angry at me. We sat down together in the living room.

"I guess we can tell Dr. Ludlum that it is still working," said my stepmother.

"It was really painful," I said, "And I am really sorry about what happened."

"You really should not be infatuated with your mother," said Greta, "It is not natural."

"I know," I said.

"It is also not legal," said Greta, "I could go to jail."

"Would it be illegal if I married you?" I asked.

My stepmother's jaw dropped. She did not know what to say. The question caught her completely off-guard.

"What kind of question is that?" asked my stepmother.

"You are not my birth mother," I said, "So would it be illegal if I married you?"

"Sorry, I am already married to your father," said my stepmother.

"Why don't you answer the question?" I asked.

My stepmother stood up with her arms crossed over her breasts. She paced back and forth as she mentally prepared her next statement.

"I appreciate you wanting to marry me," said my stepmother.

"You are so beautiful," I said, "Why would I not ask you to marry me?"

My stepmother popped me on the back of the head.

"Because I am your mother," said Greta, "That's why."

"At least I want to marry you first," I said, "Some guys just want to get into your pants."

"Like your father," said my stepmother, "I told him we had to get married first."

"I am sorry," I said, "I wish my dad didn't treat you so badly."

"We haven't talked in days," said my stepmother, "He is driving me crazy."

Finally, my stepmother sat down next to me. She took my hands and looked into my face.

"I know exactly what happened to you," said my stepmother, "You are a young, horny male who hasn't had sex, yet."

"Is it only about my age?" I asked.

"Yes," said my stepmother, "Horny boys like you are a dime a dozen."

"Maybe I can learn to control it," I said.

"Maybe," said my stepmother, "You will have to work on that."

"Okay," I said.

"Nice talk," said my stepmother.

At that, my stepmother left and I did not see her for the rest of the day. Later that day, Betty gave me my pain medication. Within minutes, I was passed out for the rest of the day. When I awoke, the bed sheets had been pushed to one side. I was spread-eagle and naked on the bed. There was a curious smell in the air. I had perspiration on my face. I also felt like I had just run a marathon.

To my surprise, I heard the shower running in the bathroom next to my room. I tried to prop myself up, but I felt too weak and nauseous. Then, I heard a voice.

"Mike, are you awake?" asked Betty.

"Yes," I said.

Betty bounced into the room with just a towel. Her ample breasts jiggled seductive at eye level. She smiled. The woman knew I was awed by her beauty. She tossed the towel aside and grabbed each breast. Seductively, Betty tiptoed to my bedside.

"Do you like these?" asked Betty.

Her nipples were hardened in the cool air and she presented them to my lips.

"Kiss them," she commanded.

Without thinking, I opened my mouth and sucked on her nipples like an infant. Betty moaned her approval.

"Do you want to see what you did?" asked Betty.

"What did I do?" I asked.

Betty sat on the bed next to me. She swung a leg over my head and spread her legs. I looked at her hairy crotch with great interest. She parted the hair and presented a reddened furrow.

"Did I do that?" I asked.

"Yes," said Betty.

I swallowed hard. Did I really have sex with Betty while I slept? Was that even possible?

"You are going to get me pregnant," said Betty proudly.

Betty pulled apart the folds of skin and white goo started to ooze out of her vagina. She giggled.

"You are one naughty boy," said Betty.

"Did I do that?" I asked.

"Yes," said Betty, "Your mother said to help you."

"Oh crap," I said, "What have I done?"

If that was not strange enough, Betty proceeded to straddle my face. She guided my lips to her hairy furrow.

"Kiss me," said Betty.

Her intoxicating fragrance drove me crazy. I could feel the blood surging through my penis. I knew I was having another erection, but I didn't care. My tongue dove onto her furrow and licked her everywhere. Betty started to moan. She started to shiver with delight. My eyes could see her ample breasts high above my muffled face. I kept licking until my tongue started to get tired and my face was covered with her vaginal juices. Then, Betty's body tightened. Her thighs nearly crushed my face. She was having an orgasm. For nearly ten minutes, Betty seemed to spasm with every flick of my tongue.

Afterwards, Betty came down off my face and wrapped herself on my body. We held each other for a long nap, and this became our afternoon activity. Much of the time, we just laid around naked. Betty would straddle my lap and slide my erection into her eager vagina. Eventually, my erections grew less and less painful, and my afternoons became more and more exciting. If Betty and I were not kissing on the lips, Betty was bringing her vagina to my face. The scent of a forbidden furrow was enough to get me excited. I knew it was wrong, because Betty was still married. Still, I could not get enough of her slim figure, her ample breasts, her shapely posterior, and her insatiable vagina. Her forbidden furrow seemed to swallow my entire ten inches with ease. Betty's body seemed to shake from head to toe with multiple orgasms each time my penis disappeared inside. Since my hands were pretty useless, there was nothing to stop Betty from climbing on top of me completely naked and I kept ejaculating into her vagina over and over again.

Weeks later, Betty was gone. It was six months since the accident and I was starting to regain some strength in my hands. Although my fingers were still in the casts, I could now move my arms around with minimal pain. Thus, I could take care of myself in the bathroom.

Eventually, my stepmother sent Betty to another city. Even though she was heartbroken, Betty did not show any of this to Greta. I didn't know if Betty wanted to keep our relationship a secret, but I played along with the charade. I watched from a window as Greta gave the cab driver money to take Betty to her new home. I guess that my stepmother did not want Betty to protest. After a tearful wave, Betty disappeared into the cab and disappeared from my life.

I spent the next few days working out in my father's gym downstairs. I had all the accouterments of a rich kid, but I was not motivated to indulge myself with videogames and satellite television. There was a hole in my heart and I didn't know what to do.

My mother-in-law seemed overly pleased with herself, but she had no time to gloat. Her relationship to my father had come to the breaking point. They were now speaking with lawyers. Even though she was one in a long line of women in my father's life, I loved Greta with a passion. I came every time she called. I didn't complain when she unloaded her frustration with my father. I even stayed in the house like she had told me.

I also stayed in the house because I was afraid to go to jail. So far, there was no word on the television about the murder of Tom and his friends. Still, I was working out continuously in the basement gymnasium. I wanted to be physically fit. Still, I didn't know what to do if Tom's friends arrived with firearms. My mother-in-law had disposed of Tom's pistol, but that did not stop me from being vigilant.

To take my mind off the impending divorce, I picked up some of my father's real estate books. He had a beautiful library in his study which I never really explored. Being the son of a rich man, I placed no value on an education. Today, I had a different view of an education. I had overheard that my father wanted me out of the house once the casts came off. That meant I was going to be thrown out without financial support. I would not be a rich kid anymore. I would just be another young person looking for work. Since I had no marketable skills, I suddenly realized that I needed a diploma. I was not about to work long hours at minimum wage for the rest of my life.

One morning, my stepmother found me in my father's study. To my surprise, Greta was dressed in a business suit.

"Hi, mom," I said, "You look nice today."

"Thank you, son," said my stepmom.

My stepmother did not look happy.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Oh, it is your father," said my stepmother, "We can't seem to compromise on this separation agreement."

Greta came to me and gently placed her hands on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and she laid her head on chest. We stood there in a friendly embrace until Greta's heart rate returned to normal.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

"I was not even asking for any money," said my stepmother.

I nodded. There was no use telling my stepmother about my father's passion for winning at all costs. Mr. Michael Skinner, senior had no interest in losing, even if it meant stomping all over his own family.

"Your father had a message for you," said Greta.

"What?" I asked.

"He is kicking you out once the doctor removes the casts," said Greta.

I rolled my eyes with a sigh. I had known that for some time now, but it was good to finally have the honest truth.

"You don't seem too surprised," said Greta.

I shook my head.

"I already know," I said.

"How did you know?" asked Greta.

"I can hear you all over the house when you argue with my dad," I said.

"Sorry," said Greta, "I didn't know I was being that loud."

I chuckled.

"I don't even argue with my dad anymore," I said, "I don't ever win anyway."

Greta looked at me quizzically. She seemed puzzled at my reaction.

"Why are you so different from your father?" asked Greta.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"I told myself that I don't want to be like my father," I said plainly.

"I see," said Greta.

"My father has no friends," I said, "I can't live like that."

"Will I ever see you again?" asked Greta.

"Of course," I said.

"You have that doctor's appointment next week," said Greta.

"They might even remove the casts," I said.

"Which means you won't be living here anymore," said Greta.

"I will be fine," I said, "I will be taking classes at the local community college."

"What are you going to do about work?" asked Greta.

"There is an opening for a maintenance person at my dad's apartments," I said, "I can start there so I can put something on my resume."

Once more, my stepmother looked at me quizzically. I was sure she was wondering why I would even work for my own father after being thrown out of the house.

"I thought you were just another rich kid when I first met you," said Greta.

"I can't blame you," I said, "Now, I can't wait to get a fresh start and make my own way in the world."

"I am glad you are thinking this way," said Greta.

"Besides," I said, "I can't have your respect if I stay here."

"Don't you want to inherit all of this?" asked Greta.

I looked around at the many rooms in the house. There were beautiful cars in the garage. There was a fully stocked kitchen and wine cellar. I even stared at the beautiful fireplace in the library, which was one of many in the house. Many gilded books inhabited the shelves. Each of them was worth a small fortune. Still, I wanted none of it. They all reminded me of my dad. I finally shook my head.

"I have been my dad's punching bag for too long," I said, "I am not sure I can take it anymore."

"You can stay here and have anything that you want," said Greta.

"I am not in his will," I said, "So I will never get anything anyway."

"How did you know that?" asked Greta.

"Like I said," I said, "I can hear you all over the house when you argue with my dad."

Greta gasped.

"You weren't supposed to know that," said Greta.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Don't worry," I said, "I had a feeling I was not going to be included in his will anyway."

"Is that the real reason why you are leaving?" asked Greta.

"There is nothing here for me except you," I said, "And you will be gone soon, too."

Greta hugged me. I knew she was sobbing. I held her tight, because I didn't want to lose her. Still, I knew that our relationship was nearly over. I would never see her again.

I sighed.

"Will I ever see you again?" I asked.

"I will find you," she said tearfully.

Months later, I was hard at work as my father's maintenance man. It was a bitter pill to swallow. I had no friends and no money. Still, I found a silver lining in all of my misery. Since I had no friends and no money, I had plenty of time to study at the local community college. There was a mix of people at the community college. This included adults who were working during the day and working towards their degree at night. Unlike my first college experience, the majority of the students at the community college were paying their own way by working a steady job. These people were serious about their education. They were full of hope and enthusiasm for the future, something I was not accustomed to seeing.

As luck would have it, my stepmother came to see me one night because of a snake bite, and I was once again enamored with her various charms. I thought I had lost her forever, but she did come back into my life. This made me very happy.

By now, the summer had returned. I was once more running between one apartment complexes and fixing air conditioning units. In the mornings, I was stuck cleaning the pools before the tenants awoke.

Today was no different. In my swim shorts, I pulled up the long pole and found several leaves in the net. The morning sun beat down on me mercilessly. It was going to be a hot day. Still, I was happy to be cleaning out the pool instead of cleaning up the parking lots. The temperature was always higher on the hard asphalt.

I brushed off the sweat from my face. To take my mind off of the monotonous whine of the pool pump, I tried to recall parts of the economics lecture from the night before. Since I was footing the bill for my own education now, I was very motivated to learn whatever I could.

That was when my stepmom appeared. This time, my stepmom was wearing more than just a short kimono. In fact, my stepmom had a ragged set of jeans and a faded t-shirt. I smiled. I set down my pole and went over to meet her.

"You didn't need to stop what you were doing," said my stepmom.

My arms were open wide and my stepmom readily accepted a hug. She seemed embarrassed about something, so I waited for her to speak.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Oh, it is nothing," said my stepmom.

"I doubt that," I said, "I have a feeling you didn't come here to see me cleaning pools for my dad."

My stepmom looked at the concrete beneath our feet. She sighed.

"Don't tell me," I said, "Is this about my dad?"

Rolling her eyes, my stepmom did not want to admit that her current mood was being affected by my father. I was all too familiar with my father's persistence on getting his way. When my father wanted something, people either stepped aside or got crushed.

Gently, I stepped forward and took her hands. She had not used any of the expensive perfumes. My father probably demanded that the perfumes stay in his house. Still, I loved the smell of her body. I even loved her blonde tresses. My stepmom was no longer going to the expensive beauty parlors. My father probably took away all of her credit cards. Still, I loved everything about her except the bags under her eyes. Neither one of us got much sleep last night.

"You can tell me," I said, "I have no reason to tell my father."

"You still work for your father," said my stepmom.

"My father hasn't talked to me since my accident," I said, "I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"I find that stupid that he does not talk to his own son," said my stepmom.

"I find that stupid, too," I said.

"What is going to happen now?" asked my stepmom, "Will he ever talk to his only son?"

I sighed.

"I am not his son," I said, "I'm just another one of his employees."

"At least one of us has a job," said my stepmom.

"Why? How can they fire you?" I asked, "That night was not your fault."

"I know," said my stepmom, "That stupid snake bit me."

"Did you tell him that?" I asked.

"He didn't believe me," said my stepmom.

"Why didn't he believe you?" I asked.

My stepmom seemed surprised to hear that question from me.

"I wasn't about to lift up my skirt and show him where I was bit," said my stepmom.

At that, I fully understood why my stepmom did not pursue the issue. My jaw dropped. Embarrassed, my stepmom buried her head in my chest.

"I am sorry I asked," I said.

"That is not all," said my stepmom.

By this time, my stepmom was holding me tight. I had the feeling she was about to cry.

"Talk to me," I said.

"Your father wants to leave me with nothing," said my stepmom.

"He didn't leave much to any of his other wives," I said.

"I really didn't marry him for the money," said my stepmom.

"I believe you," I said.

"I just want the divorce to be final," said my stepmom, "I am just tired of all of this."

"What are you going to do now?" I asked.

My stepmom looked up at me.

"I am leaving town," said my stepmom.

"Are you going to stay with your mom?" I asked.

My stepmother nodded. She watched my face. I was heartbroken.

"I have to make sure my mom is safe," said Greta.

"I know," I said.

"I haven't seen her in weeks," said Greta.

My stepmom looked directly into my eyes. Her lips were so close, but I stopped myself from kissing her. I had never been so attracted to anyone else before in my whole life, but this was one relationship that could have some serious repercussions. This relationship was also very taboo. If I wanted to pursue this relationship, I would have to take my stepmom far, far away where no one knew who we were.

"I know what you want," said my stepmom.

"And it is something I can never have," I said.

"There is no need to make things worse than they already are," said my stepmom.

"I understand," I said.

"Thank you," said my stepmom.

"Will I ever see you and Betty ever again?" I asked.

"I don't know," said my stepmom.

"Do you think they are still looking for your mother?" I asked.

"I don't know," said my stepmom.

"I wish there was something I could do to help," I said.

My stepmom stared into my eyes. Unfortunately, there was doubt in her eyes.

"They might be coming for you," said my stepmom, "I can't take that chance with my mother."

I sighed.

"I will be back," said Greta, "I promise."

I fought back the tears and put on a brave face. My stepmom let go of me and she walked away. She waved goodbye as I watched her head to the parking lot. I waved one last time as she opened the door to her old Buick. In less than five minutes, the old Buick left the parking lot for parts unknown.