Mother Dearest

My mother always was a bit of a weird one I must say. She was the loud-mouthed, always in your face kind of woman, which led to much of father responding with his own type of loud, hard-hitting force. But in the end I guess she did deserve it, some of the things she spoke not even the mighty lord could’ve forgiven. Her mouth also became a sort of money earner for the family. Father was down the mines until I put him out of commission, but this could never put bread on the table. So mother was put out there with the rest of the street urchins, taking money from people just like my father, money for sordid seedy sex acts down the back of some alley. I never knew what she charged, or to what extent she would degrade herself just to bring home the bacon, but I certainly was curious as a young boy to why mother walked in with a wad-full of cash at 4am in the morning, and why she was often stained around her lips, and her thighs. I didn’t really care to be honest. We, unlike many others, had some form of living. All was degraded by other elements, of course, but we still had a roof, and food, we never starved. Things went pretty well for us Eastman’s thanks to mother.

I never found out what she was doing until I was about 19. I was already undergoing Accountancy training by now, into my 2nd year, and again it was Christmas time, where I come home for a few weeks. I ended up going on one of fathers drinking binges to settle my nerves, but when each and every pint glass continues to shake in my trembling hands, I knew it wasn’t working. So I decided to go and find that dog I remembered from my years here, my neighbours in fact, and torture it for a while. But on my way home in the bitter cold, I stopped for a sneaky cigarette down an alleyway. Halfway through inhaling the stick something caught the corner of my eye, and some sort of groaning sound lingered in my ears, a sound that created a nasty sense of nostalgia, harking back to my younger days.

Naturally curious I ventured further into the darkness of the alley, and to my dismay the moaning got louder, the groaning ached further, and I could hear the most abhorrent banging and grunting noises. Finally I saw it, I saw mother there, knickers round her ankles, riding some wrinkled old man’s cock like a horse. She was pinned back against the wall and being fucked senseless, all for money, some of which was clenched in her grimy little hand, and a fag in the other. Her moans were clearly fake, but the dirty old man, his pathetically small penis sliding viciously into my mothers cunt, was unfazed by the artificiality. I meanwhile could only watch with shock. Or at least, parts of shock.

I had actually got an erection seeing this attack on my mothers vagina. I stopped a gasp from escaping my lips before it was too late, and stepped back a little into the shadows, extinguished my cigarette, quietly, and shoved my hands down my pants. My cold hands burnt onto my throbbing penis as I got a firm grip of it, and started masturbating furiously. I was wise enough to time my own orgasmic moans with that of my mothers. I had stumbled upon a gem, and I certainly wasn’t going to blow the opportunity. So on it went, this old man penetrating mother dearest against a dirty wall, and I hiding in the shadows, spanking the monkey hard to this dirty, sexy little scene.

But mid-masturbation, the man had finished himself off inside my mother, and all I could see was his sour old semen dribbling down her thighs as her stuffed another ten into her hands. I was naturally furious. I pulled my hands away from my pulsating dick and reached into my pockets for my knife, and jumped out of the shadows like a rat, approaching this old man from behind. Before he had time to put his cock away, I grabbed it fiercely by its slimy head, and brought my dull penknife to the base of it, and started sawing through all the tired muscle, stabbing inward to get some good leverage in the cut. Blood gushed out onto my hands, all over the knife, but I kept cutting, and groaning in delight, somehow wishing that my mother could be sucking off my cock as I did this. With a final few hacks at his penis, which barely lay together, it soon came apart, and I tore at it with all my strength to snap it off. He was screaming like a little girl, trying to fight me off, but too paralysed with shock that this was happening to him. He was pretty old too, so naturally his fighting days were over. I think mother was screaming, finally for once it wasn’t fake, but it’s not the type of screaming I wanted.

After doing it all I just ran away before anything else could happen, stuffing the bloody penis into my pockets, along with the knife. When I was far enough away I pulled it out again (his penis, not mine) and had a good stare at it, pondering on what use it was to me. I finally realised that it was pretty redundant, so I chucked it to some hungry cats, and went home.