*Readers note: this article has been edited by site staff and no longer represents the original draft as published. There may be words placed incorrectly and out of context, Apologies.*
The phone rang for a second time, and Elly grunted. The display shone dimly up at her in the pitch-black room, her husband's name scrawled across the screen. She thought briefly about answering it, but then her arms were pulled behind her back, and her face was buried in the stained mattress once again.
“That yer faggot again?” The harsh words stuffed themselves into her ears, and she gritted her teeth, trying to overcome her clenched muscles to respond.
“Fuck you!” She hissed her defiance through clenched teeth as her orgasm subsided. “Don't bring him up!”
There was a chuckle from behind her, and then a meaty palm clapped across her bare ass. “Aye, my bad, Mrs. G. You're jus’ here for this good dick; I feel you." There was another vicious clap, and the man's thrusts redoubled in force and tempo. Elly bit down on the pillow in front of her as her body was ravaged.
She loved this. More than her marriage, more than her husband, more than her ******. Elly needed this pleasure unlike anything else in her life. The fact that her worried husband was trying to figure out where she was only heightened the intensity of her orgasms. “harder! Fuck me harder, you little shit!” Elly growled as her body began to tremble with yet another climax.
A fist curled through her fiery red hair and hauled back. Elly gasped as the massive cock stretching out her cunt started to rattle her spine like a jackhammer. “Yeah? You fuckin' like that, don't you? Fuckin' love this fat black dick, dontcha bitch?” Another hand wrapped around Elly's throat, and she mewled like a cat in heat. “Fuckin' cum all over this dick, bitch! Cum! Clench that fuckin' cunt like a good little white bitch!”
Elly’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, and a hot jet of squirt washed down the man's thighs as her body locked up in pleasure. She squealed as her lungs finally started working, and she flopped forward on the bed as the man released his hold of her. He clicked his tongue, agitated. “Tsk, getchur pussy back up here, ya dumb slut, I ain't fuckin’ cum yet.”
Elly fought the exhaustion and did her best to prop her ass back up for the man, moaning absently into the pillow. “I thought you older sluts were 'sposed to be good at this shit. I'ma ditch yo ass if you ain't going to milk my load out.” His cock slid effortlessly into her soaked pussy, and he started pumping again.
Elly panicked at the thought of losing him and being replaced. She grunted again and did everything she could to tighten every muscle she could think of to tighten. The man cooed in delight as his pleasure increased. "Yeah, das mo like it! Get it! Get it!” Elly could tell he was close, and she let the excitement carry her closer to another orgasm.
“I'ma fuckin’ breed this cougar pussy! You want my fuckin' kids? You want my fuckin' babies?” His thrusts were coming faster.
“I want them! Ah! I want your black babies! Gimme your fuckin’ babies!” Elly couldn't have stopped herself, even if she'd wanted to. The desire to feel the man's seed paint her insides overrode every other thought she was having. She heard the grunt and then felt the spasm as his cock lurched and twitched inside her. The hot torrent of cum he flooded her cunt with drove her over the edge and into yet another orgasm.
He dismounted her, giving her ass another slap before collapsing onto the mattress beside her. Elly moaned and twitched as her body continued disobeying her. Devon always left her like this; his powerful 18-year-old frame utterly dominated her in every aspect, and his ridiculously huge cock had long since rendered her husband an absolute embarrassment in comparison.
He reached for the nightstand and produced a joint. He lit it, took two puffs, and then passed it to Elly. She turned onto her side and took the joint, savoring the heavy scent as she inhaled. “Get your pussy juice off my fuckin' dick, woman. And if your pussy-ass husband calls again when you're here, I'ma fuckin’ jump his ass, clear?”
Elly bristled at the mention of her husband but chose to wrap her lips around his semi-hard cock instead of replying. Devon's ****** had moved into the neighborhood three months ago, and there had almost immediately been friction. Elly's husband had instantly been suspicious of the new, black ****** that moved in a few doors down, and things had come to a head when Devon's father, Maurice, had accidentally parked his car in front of her house.
Some choice words and a narrowly avoided brawl later, and Elly had been forced to take up the mantle of peacekeeper. Arriving on their doorstep with freshly baked pie, only to be ushered into the house and then threatened into sex. Devon was wildly intelligent and knew exactly how to leverage her emotions, as well as her seemingly limitless libido. He'd promised that, in exchange for sex whenever he desired it, her ****** wouldn't encounter any "unfortunate accidents".
If Elly was being honest with herself, she'd given up her body far more easily than she should have. She'd always been attracted to black men, and both Devon and his father were handsome in ways that made her pussy tingle anytime she so much as looked their way. Her resistance had been token at best, and by the second time Devon demanded her pussy, it had essentially become consensual sex. Now, if Devon asked her to divorce her husband, she might only feel bad about it for a few days.
“You owe me three hundred for the cum and another eighty for the weed. Found out which high school your boy is going to, so if you don't cough up the cash, he ain't graduating outside a hospital bed, clear?” He said it casually, almost flippantly. Elly didn't care about the money; Dave was loaded, and she probably would have paid more for being made to cum like she had. A thrill of adrenaline crept up her spine at the mention of her son, though.
Elly pulled his cock out of her throat long enough to beg pathetically, “Please! I'll pay! Just don't hurt my ******!”
Devon snorted, “Whatever, get back on that dick.”
Elly returned to bobbing her head on his cock. She'd hoped that she sounded concerned, but between the lingering pleasure and the satisfaction of servicing Devon's cock, she knew she hadn't sounded as desperate or sincere as she should have. Her ****** seemed to matter less and less every passing day, and that scared her.
Especially now that she was pregnant with Devon's child. They'd never once used condoms, and she'd been off birth control for years since Dave barely even glanced at her anymore. Devon always crammed at least two loads into her greedy pussy, and they were fucking just about every day now. It'd taken him just three days to spear one of her eggs—a miracle given she was almost 40. Elly had immediately raced out and picked up some plan B, but she just couldn't bring herself to follow through on it.
Now she was caught in a limbo, unable to abandon Devon's child, and too ashamed to admit her infidelity to Dave. She knew the man likely wouldn't divorce her over it; her children were old enough to support themselves, true, but they weren't out of the house yet, and neither of them had actually finished high school. A divorce would only throw them into chaos, and she knew Dave wouldn't let something like that happen.
She'd considered telling Dave it was his, but that would only buy her enough time to give birth to the child. Devon wasn't fair-skinned; in fact, his entire ****** was likely the darkest shade of black she'd ever seen. There was no hope of Dave ever believing the child was his. So, Elly was stuck. She hadn't actually told Devon that she was carrying his baby out of fear that he'd force her to abort it, but Elly suspected the teen already knew he'd knocked her up.
It could be that his lack of curiosity or concern meant he didn't care if she was either way. He had to know that his potent, virile seed was basically guaranteed to impregnate her, didn't he? Devon presented the joint to her again, and she slid her lips off his cock with a wet pop before taking a long drag. Elly thought of what the other women in her congregation would think if they learned about this. Letting a black man ravage her and then doing drugs in his room while pregnant. The immorality of it made her dizzy, though she supposed that could also be the weed.
Eventually Devon dropped another load down her throat, and she knew he was done. Three in one night wasn't a record by any stretch—the first few nights, especially—had been incredibly taxing on her body. But she'd noticed he'd been slowing down recently, and the concern that she was beginning to bore him felt like a brick in her stomach.
Almost as though the young man were reading her mind, he drew his attention away from his phone to ask her a simple question: “How old's your ********?” The question struck Elly like a slap, and for a moment she just gaped at Devon, not willing to clarify what she knew he meant. “I fuck you stupid or sum'? I asked how old your girl was, bitch.” He'd put his phone to the side, and Elly knew she would need to answer if she didn't want to be beaten again.
She briefly considered lying to him and saying her ******** wasn't 18, but she knew he would find out on his own eventually. She'd had her children back to back, almost exactly 9 months apart. While her son was almost 19, her ******** had only just celebrated her 18th birthday the week before Devon and his ****** had arrived in their neighborhood.
“Can I ask... why?” She probed at his question, hoping it was unrelated to her worries. But Devon seemed hell-bent on breaking her heart that night.
“I wanna fuck her. I need some new pussy n’ yo ass is losin’ its luster, if you catch me. She's eighteen, yeah?” Elly couldn't bring herself to lie to Devon, so, holding her tears back, she shakily nodded her head. “Aight, gimme her contact information. Sluts like you pump out sluts; it shouldn't take me a day or two to get her ass bouncin’ on my shit. Leave my money on the table in the kitchen and get the fuck out.”
Elly swiped through her phone with bleary eyes and did as she was told, unable to bring herself to disobey him. She knew she should be fighting this and knew that it was a mother's duty to protect her ******** from a man like this. But in the moment, the only thing Elly could feel was pain and loss from not being Devon's top choice. This swirled chaotically, with a tinge of jealousy for her ********. The little bitch would soon usurp Elly's rightful place under Devon's strong, African body, and she resented her for that.
Elly gathered up her clothes and got dressed, trying her best not to openly weep in front of Devon, who had started watching something on his phone. Elly pulled her thong up, knowing it would be soaked in cum by the time she got home. It never mattered; Dave would be asleep now, having failed to reach her, and she would have the house to herself to clean and shower before reluctantly joining her husband in bed.
Maurice glanced up from his place on the couch as Elly walked out, careful to leave the small wad of bills on the table as she'd been told. His eyes tracked her across the kitchen and through the entryway, as they always did. But unlike every other night, this time Maurice spoke up before she could slip her pumps on and make the shameful walk back to her house.
“Tha fuck you cryin’ fer?” The words took Elly aback. The man had never spoken to her in all her comings and goings, despite clearly knowing what she had been doing with his son. Lord knew there were occasions where she couldn't control her voice. Even still, the man had never mentioned it, never sneered at her, and never even so much as attempted to insert himself in his son's business. Elly paused as she bent to collect her shoes.
“I-what…?” She blushed as she realized her surprise was making her come across poorly to the man. “I wasn't crying!” But the sniffle in her voice rendered her denial moot.
“Naw, I know wassup. My boy jus’ ditched you for a younger pussy, aye?” It wasn't really a question, but he'd given her space in the conversation to open up. And despite the distance between them, Elly couldn't help but feel somewhat touched by his act of reaching out. She hadn't expected it, and in the void left by Devon coldly shunning her, she was grateful for the affection.
“He just... well, I'm getting old and... I don't know what I expected.” She was trying her best not to start crying again. It stung; she knew it shouldn't, but all the same, she couldn't deny that she'd developed something more for Devon than a simple sexual lust.
Maurice came over to her, taking his time to approach her as though she would bolt like a frightened deer. “Yeah, that's how it is. Ya get old, n’ ya lose ya value. But don't let my old lady know I said that. I'd be in a casket by tomorrow.” His gruff chuckle at his own joke managed to warm a small part of Elly's chest. His arms came around her, and for a brief moment, she didn't know what to do. The hug was nice and comforting, but appropriately formal.
Again, Elly was taken aback by how thoughtful Maurice was being. She hadn't expected this kind of care; it confused her as much as it settled her. “If you need someone to lean on, jus' let me know, you hear? I ain't no young buck now, but everything still works the way it ought to. If you get lonely, jus’ keep me in mind, yeah?”
Was he offering her... sex? Did he think she'd just fuck him? Immediately after Devon had essentially dumped her for her ********, Elly was so bewildered that all she could do was smile and nod. “I'll keep that in mind. But… what about your wife?” Elly had only ever seen the woman when they were moving in; she couldn't remember ever seeing her at the house after that.
“Aw hell, that ol' bat works nights down at the laundromat. I've been goin’ mad sittin’ here, jerkin’ myself numb. She won't let me touch her; she says she's always tired. I ain't see why we can't help each other with that. ' Especially since yo' nights just freed up, if ya catch me.” So, Maurice was propositioning her, and rather directly at that. A thought occurred to Elly.
“Maurice, you don't... You wouldn't happen to think that I'm a prostitute, would you?” His confusion was immediate, and Elly could see she'd gotten the wrong impression. “No, sorry! Nevermind, I'm sorry!” She tried to pull away, but the big man simply laughed and held onto her.
“I ain't never met a whore who pays to get fucked. Nah, I knew you was jus' a little white slut lookin’ for good dick. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. Known a million like you, Lord Willin’, I'll know a million mo'. Don't you go worryin' that lil red head of yours; to me, you jus' a regular ol’ slut.”
Despite the man's harsh words, Elly found herself relaxing in his arms, oddly comforted by his insults and belittling. But she knew, somewhere deep in her mind, that the man used the terms affectionately. They were tender off his tongue, and instead of being offended, Elly clung to them with pride. As though they were expectations she should be living up to.
Finally, the large man separated himself from her, and she looked up into his dark eyes. She could feel it then, like a creeping jolt of electricity up her spine. There was lust in his eyes—the slight parting of his lips, the way he had disengaged from the hug but hadn't quite let go of her. She knew they were going to kiss before he even made his move, and she let him.
Elly was far beyond understanding what her life was. These past few months had been such an insane rollercoaster of emotions and experiences that she couldn't even tell whether to be upset or overjoyed. All she knew in that moment was that Maurice's lips were the softest, most reassuring thing she'd felt amidst the turmoil. She melted into him, willing herself to forget about Devon, about her husband, the baby, and her children. She passed her tongue through his lips and deepened the kiss, letting Maurice know that she needed more.
Surprisingly, he cut her short. It wasn't abrupt, but feeling his lips pull away from hers made Elly feel as though she were being abandoned once again. Maurice pressed an incredibly large finger to her lips to shush her imminent protests. “This keeps on, an’ you ain't going to have a home to get back to. Shuffle on, woman, but be back here tomorrow. I reckon Dev ain't done with yo' ass jus’ yet, and’ I'ma want my piece of you when he's done. Ya hear?”
She picked up the hint of reluctance in his voice as he spoke, and she nodded, trying not to come across any more desperate than she already had. “I'll be by tomorrow. Thanks for this, Maurice. It really meant a lot. I hope you're right... about Devon, I mean.”
He smiled warmly. “I know my boy; jus’ cause he's lookin’ for a new bitch don't mean he's done witchu. He's jus’ like his ol’ man that way.”
Elly saw a chance for some light flirting and decided to take it, not wanting to leave her end of their talk on a sour note: “Hopefully that isn't the only thing he got from his old man.” She was careful to lace her words with anticipation, and Maurice didn't miss a beat.
“Naw girl, if anythin’ this ol’ dog still got him beat, jus ya wait n’ see.” And with that, Elly left the Watson residence for her own house. As she suspected, the lights were all out. Disabling the alarm, she quietly stepped through the entrance and threw her coat into the closet. Her crotch had grown uncomfortable with all the cum that had soaked through her thong and into her pants, so her first stop was the upstairs washroom.
Tip-toeing her way up the stairs, Elly congratulated herself on another successful night of cheating on her husband. She'd long stopped feeling bad about it; even before Devon came into her life, Elly had entertained the idea of going behind Dave's back. She'd fought for years to gain even a sliver of the man's affections, but he'd seemed to have forgotten about the passion they'd once shared.
If Dave refused to give her what she needed, then why shouldn't she get it elsewhere? And it wasn't like he'd ever been particularly good in the first place. Especially now that she had Devon to compare him to. It wasn't that Elly disliked her husband; he was kind, compassionate, and a good father. Their children had never wanted for anything, nor had they lacked affection or care. All things considered, Elly was incredibly proud of the ****** she'd built.
“If only he were Devon...” but she banished the thought. Devon would never be the kind of man to raise her children, not because he couldn't; he definitely could, if he'd wanted to. But she knew he didn't, and that was the problem. If she could keep her relationship with Devon and have Dave raise the children that came of it, that would be the ideal situation. But how could she get Dave to accept that path?
Elly passed her son's room, so wrapped up in thought that she nearly, very nearly, missed the soft electric whirring that emanated from beyond his door. She had almost continued on to the washroom, thinking it'd been her imagination, but leaning a bit closer to the door brought the sound into sharper focus. It was the definite oscillating hum of an electric motor. It is almost like a slowly reciprocating device. It reminded her of the small breast pump she'd used when Miranda had been born.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she silently pressed an ear to his door. Her eyebrows drew together as the sounds she picked up confused her further. There was a wet sort of... squelching? And soft, feminine muttering. “What the fuck is he doing in there? Does he have a girl over?!” An indignant rage overtook Elly for a brief moment as she considered how he could have possibly thought he could get away with that. Deciding to brave the consequences, whatever they may be, Elly cracked his door open and peered in.
As it turned out, Daniel was alone. Which confused Elly as her mind struggled to comprehend what she was seeing. There, on the bed, was her son. Or, at least, she thought it was Daniel. They were dressed in what had to be some of the sluttiest clothing Elly had ever seen in person. The shortest miniskirt possible, fishnet stockings, knee-high socks, a long blond wig, and a bra holding almost nothing.
They were on their hands and knees, facing away from her, the room softly lit by the glow of a laptop screen in front of them. They were watching some kind of pornography, or maybe recording? Elly couldn't tell. Her eyes were locked onto the machine resting on the bed behind them, obviously the source of the electric whirring she'd heard. She watched on in stark amazement as the machine pushed, and then pulled, one of the largest Black dildos she'd ever seen, in and out of their asshole.
A moan slid out from the person's mouth, and Elly knew instantly that it was, in fact, Daniel. But the contrast between the boy she knew and the degenerate slut she saw on the bed was dismantling her mind. When had he gotten all of this stuff? Did that mean he was gay? Was he trans? A crossdresser? How long had he been doing this? Did his sister know? Did Dave know?
Elly gaped at the scene playing out before her, noting absently that there seemed to be some kind of device around his penis. A cage of some sort. And then her son reached for something—a bottle of some kind—lube, maybe? Elly was still so out of it that she didn't process what was happening until it had already happened.
Daniel had turned to re-lubricate the massive black cock pummeling his ass when his eyes landed squarely on hers. There was an incredibly tense moment where neither of them so much as flinched, obviously not sure what to do or say. Elly’s mind was screaming for her to shut the door, but she just stared dumbly into the room, into her son's widening eyes.
Finally, with a jolt of reality, Elly slowly stepped back and shut the door with a soft click. There were no shouts or rushed movements trying to cover up what was happening. Everything returned to the way it had been before she opened the door, the soft electric whirring continuing on the other side. Numbly, Elly turned to the washroom and stiffly made her way inside.
What was she going to do? The information she'd just been forced to take in was so overwhelming that she didn't even know where to start. Did she confront him? Pretend she hadn't seen anything? She'd obviously been snooping, so did she even have any right to bring it up? Elly didn't realize that she'd stepped into the shower with her pants on.
If she did confront him, what would she even say? He was an adult and could make his own choices. It's not really like she had much of a moral leg to stand on when it came to her sexual proclivities. Finally, noticing her pants were entirely soaked, she swore softly and began to strip them off. A task made infinitely more difficult with how they were now plastered to her slender, well-toned legs.
Elly was fit for 38. She kept a stringent exercise routine and monitored her diet closely. Having two children had threatened to balloon her weight, and now that her metabolism was virtually nonexistent, she needed to maintain a razor focus in order to keep her figure. At just under 5'9", she clocked in at a healthy 142 lbs. Mostly lean muscle, but with some definite cushioning where it mattered.
She'd undergone breast implant surgery when she was 34 as a gift from Dave. The surgeon, Dr. Arnold Bowman, had been blessed by Hephaestus, based on the way he'd sculpted her chest. The swell of her 34DD breasts was natural, but their perk and bounce were anything but. She always took a brief moment in the mirror to admire how they sat—gorgeously rounded and perfectly proportioned for her body.
The slight ripple of her abs was a constant reminder of the work and dedication she put into her physical appearance. Elly frowned as she peeled the second leg of her pants from her body. Not that the routine had attracted any attention from Dave. Lousy bum. She wrung out her pants as best she could before plopping them into the hamper outside the shower. A problem for future Elly, no doubt.
Daniel's moan floated across her mind, and she drifted back into her thoughts, swiping a hand across her smooth slit and noting, with amusement, the substantial amount of cum it came away coated in. God, Devon came so much, as though he had a bottomless prostate. The image of Daniel bent over on his bed, getting plowed by the comically large cock, played across her vision.
Elly bit her lip. At the end of the day, Elly loved her children; she wanted them to be happy. If that meant wading into the sticky mess of what her son got up to in that room, then she would just have to do it. The last thing she wanted, as hypocritical as it was, was for them to keep secrets from her.
Daniel's room was silent when she passed by again. The electric whir that had caught her attention had vanished, and she suspected her son was in the middle of a quiet breakdown. Thoughts much like hers would be running through his head as sleep refused to take him. She considered knocking, putting an end to the rampant speculation he must have been enduring, but ultimately decided that it was too soon. They both needed time to come up with words to explain their feelings.
Her shared room with Dave was not as silent. His loud snoring had been a constant companion since they'd started living together. They had both tried almost every solution available to the market to help settle his god awful sawing, but he could never stick with one long enough for it to make a difference. He would invariably forget to use it or buy more, and then that would be it. Back to the deafening roar of his nose and throat.
It was only recently that Elly had come to like that part of Dave. She could come and go from the bedroom as she pleased, using his terrible rumble as a cover for her movements. Their king-sized, four-post bed left her with ample space to move about without so much as jostling her husband. She dropped the towel that had been wrapped around her torso and slid into the silken sheets.
She was extremely grateful that she'd had her body lasered. Eliminating the need to shave had made her life infinitely better on every level, and she swore she would never take for granted the feeling of bare skin against silk sheets again. Dave moaned and snorted before rolling away from her, smacking his lips loudly before muttering something in his sleep.
The guilt crept back into her heart for a moment as the memories of their time together crammed into a small one-bedroom apartment flooded back to her. They had been young and dumb, happy and indomitable. She had worked two jobs, and he had poured every waking moment into his schooling. Things were tight, but they'd made it work, and they'd had fun doing it. They were bright, nostalgic days.
But that was then, and this was now. Elly had grown, Dave had grown, and it was just an unfortunate thing that they had grown apart the way they had. She thought about scooting across the mattress to press herself up against his back, curling an arm around him, and holding him like she had all those years ago. But the sound of her hips slapping against Devon's stopped her. She turned over, away from her husband, and tried to sleep.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The Geltan house was early to rise during the week. Dave was up and out of the house before Elly even awoke most mornings. It was a rare thing for her to beat him to the coffee maker, and today had been no different. A small note sat next to the brewer, penned in Dave's rushed but articulate hand. “Glad you came home. Had me worried. Have a great day. Love you.”
Elly crumpled the note and tossed it into the recycling. Closing in on 6 a.m., the kids would be waking up soon, and she wasn't particularly looking forward to facing Daniel. She had thought about what to say but ultimately decided to open with reassurance. “You can trust me; you can talk to me; I'll love you regardless.” Hopefully, it would be enough to put a hole in his emotional walls.
Miranda was up first, bouncing down the stairs as though life had rolled out a red carpet just for her. She'd inherited Elly's shockingly red hair, and it drifted across her shoulders in broad curls that Elly had always been slightly jealous of. Miranda had gotten more of her father's face, but she carried his narrow chin much better than he did.
The 18-year-old girl slid across the tiled floor in clean socks, ending up next to Elly at the coffee machine. “Hey mom!” It was just a little too bright and a little too eager. It set Elly's hackles to rise, and she directed an upturned eyebrow at her ********.
"Well, someone's excited about something. Couldn't be school... couldn't be the part-time job, and I know for a fact that the cheer team has been running you through drills non-stop. so that leaves... a boy?” Elly was rewarded with the shocked look of someone watching Sherlock Holmes unveil the plot of the show.
“There's no way you guessed that! Nooooooo way! How'd you know? Are you wire-tapping me?!” Her ********'s accusation was fair, though—maybe not for the reasons she would have guessed. Elly decided to play this one closer to the truth than would be believable.
“No! Of course not! I just sold your contact information to the highest bidder. Have fun in Albania working the fields as a mail-order bride!”
Miranda rolled her eyes and resumed plucking a mug from the cabinet. “No, seriously, what gave it away? If *** finds out, I'm pretty sure he's going to lock me away in my room like Rapunzel.”
Elly appreciated the relationship she had with her ********. They'd bonded a lot more than she had with Daniel, and as a result, there was an uncanny sense of mutual trust between them. Miranda had never held anything back from Elly, always coming to her about every minor struggle. Or, at least, Elly hoped that was the case; after last night, she wasn't sure she could take that as fact.
“Sweetie, I was eighteen once. I can tell you the only thing that would have me bouncing down the stairs like that at six in the morning was a cute boy. Ok, maybe Christmas, too. but it's the middle of June, so...”
Miranda blushed slightly as she dispensed some hot coffee into the mug she'd chosen. Small pastel animals are printed across its side. “It's Devon... from down the street. You know, the Watson's boy? He got my number somehow, and I guess he wants to take me out. I can understand why he wouldn't come tell me directly; after Daddy... well, after the "incident,” I don't think I'd want to come here either if I were him.”
And there it was. The fruits of Elly's betrayal. She'd served up her ******** to that hungry beast of a man on a silver platter, and she was all too eager to ride it straight to his table. Elly had no doubt that, by the end of the day, her darling ******** would no longer be a virgin. She felt the compulsion to apologize to Miranda come and go, the words dying in her throat before they could ever materialize. Instead, she forced a shocked look into her eyes and pressed for information.
“You said yes? Did he say where he was taking you?”
Miranda wobbled her head, wincing slightly. “He's hot! And the few times I've bumped into him outside his house, he's been really nice to me. I thought I'd give him a shot, you know? He didn't say, just said "out,” so... the mall? Maybe?”
Elly frowned, making sure to give it a motherly tone. Her disapproval was meant to be for the safety and well-being of her ********, not for the feeling of jealousy pulsing through her temples. Little Bastard never took her "out." She only ever got to see him while being pressed into his mattress.
“Well, when you find out, I want you to tell me where and when. I expect you to be home by eleven at the latest. I know it's all new and shiny, but it's a school night, and I don't need you two showing up at my door escorted by a cop!” Elly knew she wasn't going to see her ******** by 11. Devon probably wouldn't let Miranda go until early in the morning. She just hoped he didn't hurt her ******** too badly when he finally decided to push things.
“And if he starts getting handsy, you remind him that your mama is a black belt!”
This got Miranda to chuckle, and she settled at the kitchen table to nurse her coffee. “Yeah, ok, the only black belt you've ever worn is a seatbelt. Mom, don't worry! I'm a big girl. No means no; I know that.”
Elly just needed one more push to make her concern seem legitimate, and then she would drop it. She settled at the table with her ******** and did her best to seem bashful. “I know, sweetie. I trust you. But, you know, boys these days can just be so pushy, you know? I'm just worried about you. Be safe, ok? Oh! But if things do take a turn, you make damn sure he wraps it up, you hear me?! I'm not ready to be a grandma!”
Miranda's face turned crimson as she spluttered into her coffee. “MOM! STOP! PLEASE! OH MY GOD!”.
Daniel picked that moment to round the corner into the kitchen. Elly did her best to make her greeting to him as normal and casual as she could, but there was no hiding the “deer-in-the-headlights” look he had as they locked eyes. Thankfully, Miranda was busy recovering from her comment and didn't seem to notice the awkwardness.
Miranda, seemingly grasping at any chance to bail on the conversation, scooped up her coffee and excused herself to start getting ready for school. Daniel quietly pulled his own cup from the cupboard, and Elly studied his back. She couldn't quite get the image of him bent over on his bed out of her mind when she looked at him like that.
“Dan, can I... can we talk? About last night?” Elly could see his shoulders stiffen, and the grip on his mug tightened ever-so-slightly. He was trembling, clearly scared out of his mind. “Oh, Daniel! No, no, sweety, it's ok. Oh, honey, it's ok!” Elly slid from her chair and threw her arms around him from behind. She shushed him as he silently started sobbing. "Oh, Daniel, you're okay! It's ok! I promise, everything is fine, sweetie. I'm not mad; I'm not upset at all; everything's alright!”
She could feel her son crumple into the counter. The weight of the previous night's worry was flooding out of him like a broken dam. He spun in her arms and buried himself in her chest, shaking and crying as the relief caused him to unclench muscles he probably didn't even know he had. They stood like that for several minutes, him sobbing and her stroking his hair while quietly reassuring him that everything would be ok.
Eventually, Elly asked if he was okay enough to take a seat and have some coffee. He nodded and wiped his tears on her housecoat one last time before shuffling to the table. She gave him a few more minutes to settle and dry his eyes before she started in on her pseudo-interrogation.
“So, before we get into it, I want you to know that I love you; that's unconditional. Full stop. I don't care how things shake out; come what may, I will always love you. I may not understand what that was. But I don't need to in order to love you. Is that clear?”
Daniel nodded, struggling to meet her eyes but not actively avoiding them either. That was good, but it also didn't look like he would be volunteering much information unless she pulled it out of him.
“Ok… so… I guess I should start with the obvious one. Are you still Daniel? Like, are you my son? Or do I have another ******** now?” Elly dove in feet first, using the foundation of unconditional love to springboard into, hopefully, what would be the biggest bombshell of their talk.
To his credit, Daniel looked like a freshly caught fish thrown into the center of the death valley. Elly wasn't sure it would be physically possible for someone to look as utterly uncomfortable as he did in that moment, and she knew that she'd hit the nail on the head straight out of the gate. Hesitantly, he stuttered to a start, “I... well, I guess I don't... I mean, I don't... know? I think?”
Elly stared back at him, waiting for more. When nothing came, she decided to take a more bull-headed approach: “Dan, your father didn't marry me for my wit or my brains; you were bent over getting buttfucked by a fat black dick while dressed like a club slut. I'm struggling to identify anything “straight” about that. You're going to have to help me out here. I can't jump into your head and take a look around, you know? You've obviously been doing... that... for a while, so if anyone would have a decent idea of what's going on with you, it would be you, right?”
Beyond Daniels' absolute horror at her description of the event, her words seemed to have the impact she wanted them to because, instead of a slowly cooking fish, he now looked like a blushing schoolgirl. He tried again, this time with a little more conviction: “I don't know... it's hard for me to describe, or even, like, think about? Some days I feel like I need to be the most feminine person on earth, you know? Some days I want to paint my nails and style my hair, wear cute clothes, flirt with hot guys, and take a bunch of cute selfies, but others... I don't know. Other days I just, like, feel like a dude. Does that make sense? Like, I want to be able to be both when I want to. You know?”
He looked like he was trying to explain it more to himself than to her, but Elly supposed she could understand that feeling somewhat. Some days she wanted to put a boot on Dave's face and tell him to lick the bottom of it; other days she wanted Devon to turn her inside out with his cock. It was give-and-take, push-and-pull. Some days it was more of one than the other; other days it was equal parts of both. Humanity existed on a spectrum in almost every aspect; why couldn't that be a sliding scale as well?
“I think I get that. Some days you're Danielle, others your Daniel. It seems pretty simple. So, with that in mind, I'm assuming last night was more of a Danielle thing? Are both sides of you into guys?” Elly wasn't too sure how to word what she was trying to ask, but Daniel picked up her intent and squirmed a little as he thought about his answer. Her answer?
“So, like, how much do you actually want to know? Because, like, this is going to take a while to get through. Like, it's actually a lot.” He looked up at her, his short, puffy hair partially obscuring his eyes, but the pleading in them told Elly everything that she needed to know. She needed to either be all in or all out. There would be no cherry-picking parts of this story. She looked at the clock over the stove and saw that it was almost 6:45. They weren't going to have time to dig into this without school interrupting.
“Tell you what, I'm going to make a call to your school and let them know that you've come down with a terrible stomach bug, super bad, liquid at both ends and all that, and then you and I are going to go get our nails done. I'll ask you some questions, and you can fill me in on what the deal is. Sound good?”
Daniel turned back into the sweating fish, an uncomprehending look plastered across his face as his expectations of what was going to happen that morning were utterly shredded. Then his face twisted up into a pained look of emotions forcing their way out of an incredibly small box. Her son had obviously been bottling up a lot these past few years, and finally having the ability to vent them into the atmosphere was physically taxing his system.
Elly mentally patted herself on the back for some A+ mothering. It felt good to be a rockstar every now and then, and helping her son come out of his shell, even just a little, was an accomplishment she felt proud of. But then a small pill of dread sprung to life in her guts as she realized that her time with Devon had made it all too easy to forget that her children were people, too. Something about that young man brought out an entirely inhuman side of her. Altogether too willing to abandon those same people in a desperate bid for pleasure and purpose.
She looked at her son, crying at the other end of the table, taking in his pained and relieved expression, and she realized that even in the throes of what should have been an intense and, frankly, incredibly raw moment, her mind had still turned to Devon. That was the moment that Elly came to grips with the fact that she had been broken. And with her ********'s introduction to Devon, it was only a matter of time before her ****** fell apart around her. The players were moving pieces, and she wasn't sure which she was. A player or a piece.
The phone rang for a second time, and Elly grunted. The display shone dimly up at her in the pitch-black room, her husband's name scrawled across the screen. She thought briefly about answering it, but then her arms were pulled behind her back, and her face was buried in the stained mattress once again.
“That yer faggot again?” The harsh words stuffed themselves into her ears, and she gritted her teeth, trying to overcome her clenched muscles to respond.
“Fuck you!” She hissed her defiance through clenched teeth as her orgasm subsided. “Don't bring him up!”
There was a chuckle from behind her, and then a meaty palm clapped across her bare ass. “Aye, my bad, Mrs. G. You're jus’ here for this good dick; I feel you." There was another vicious clap, and the man's thrusts redoubled in force and tempo. Elly bit down on the pillow in front of her as her body was ravaged.
She loved this. More than her marriage, more than her husband, more than her ******. Elly needed this pleasure unlike anything else in her life. The fact that her worried husband was trying to figure out where she was only heightened the intensity of her orgasms. “harder! Fuck me harder, you little shit!” Elly growled as her body began to tremble with yet another climax.
A fist curled through her fiery red hair and hauled back. Elly gasped as the massive cock stretching out her cunt started to rattle her spine like a jackhammer. “Yeah? You fuckin' like that, don't you? Fuckin' love this fat black dick, dontcha bitch?” Another hand wrapped around Elly's throat, and she mewled like a cat in heat. “Fuckin' cum all over this dick, bitch! Cum! Clench that fuckin' cunt like a good little white bitch!”
Elly’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, and a hot jet of squirt washed down the man's thighs as her body locked up in pleasure. She squealed as her lungs finally started working, and she flopped forward on the bed as the man released his hold of her. He clicked his tongue, agitated. “Tsk, getchur pussy back up here, ya dumb slut, I ain't fuckin’ cum yet.”
Elly fought the exhaustion and did her best to prop her ass back up for the man, moaning absently into the pillow. “I thought you older sluts were 'sposed to be good at this shit. I'ma ditch yo ass if you ain't going to milk my load out.” His cock slid effortlessly into her soaked pussy, and he started pumping again.
Elly panicked at the thought of losing him and being replaced. She grunted again and did everything she could to tighten every muscle she could think of to tighten. The man cooed in delight as his pleasure increased. "Yeah, das mo like it! Get it! Get it!” Elly could tell he was close, and she let the excitement carry her closer to another orgasm.
“I'ma fuckin’ breed this cougar pussy! You want my fuckin' kids? You want my fuckin' babies?” His thrusts were coming faster.
“I want them! Ah! I want your black babies! Gimme your fuckin’ babies!” Elly couldn't have stopped herself, even if she'd wanted to. The desire to feel the man's seed paint her insides overrode every other thought she was having. She heard the grunt and then felt the spasm as his cock lurched and twitched inside her. The hot torrent of cum he flooded her cunt with drove her over the edge and into yet another orgasm.
He dismounted her, giving her ass another slap before collapsing onto the mattress beside her. Elly moaned and twitched as her body continued disobeying her. Devon always left her like this; his powerful 18-year-old frame utterly dominated her in every aspect, and his ridiculously huge cock had long since rendered her husband an absolute embarrassment in comparison.
He reached for the nightstand and produced a joint. He lit it, took two puffs, and then passed it to Elly. She turned onto her side and took the joint, savoring the heavy scent as she inhaled. “Get your pussy juice off my fuckin' dick, woman. And if your pussy-ass husband calls again when you're here, I'ma fuckin’ jump his ass, clear?”
Elly bristled at the mention of her husband but chose to wrap her lips around his semi-hard cock instead of replying. Devon's ****** had moved into the neighborhood three months ago, and there had almost immediately been friction. Elly's husband had instantly been suspicious of the new, black ****** that moved in a few doors down, and things had come to a head when Devon's father, Maurice, had accidentally parked his car in front of her house.
Some choice words and a narrowly avoided brawl later, and Elly had been forced to take up the mantle of peacekeeper. Arriving on their doorstep with freshly baked pie, only to be ushered into the house and then threatened into sex. Devon was wildly intelligent and knew exactly how to leverage her emotions, as well as her seemingly limitless libido. He'd promised that, in exchange for sex whenever he desired it, her ****** wouldn't encounter any "unfortunate accidents".
If Elly was being honest with herself, she'd given up her body far more easily than she should have. She'd always been attracted to black men, and both Devon and his father were handsome in ways that made her pussy tingle anytime she so much as looked their way. Her resistance had been token at best, and by the second time Devon demanded her pussy, it had essentially become consensual sex. Now, if Devon asked her to divorce her husband, she might only feel bad about it for a few days.
“You owe me three hundred for the cum and another eighty for the weed. Found out which high school your boy is going to, so if you don't cough up the cash, he ain't graduating outside a hospital bed, clear?” He said it casually, almost flippantly. Elly didn't care about the money; Dave was loaded, and she probably would have paid more for being made to cum like she had. A thrill of adrenaline crept up her spine at the mention of her son, though.
Elly pulled his cock out of her throat long enough to beg pathetically, “Please! I'll pay! Just don't hurt my ******!”
Devon snorted, “Whatever, get back on that dick.”
Elly returned to bobbing her head on his cock. She'd hoped that she sounded concerned, but between the lingering pleasure and the satisfaction of servicing Devon's cock, she knew she hadn't sounded as desperate or sincere as she should have. Her ****** seemed to matter less and less every passing day, and that scared her.
Especially now that she was pregnant with Devon's child. They'd never once used condoms, and she'd been off birth control for years since Dave barely even glanced at her anymore. Devon always crammed at least two loads into her greedy pussy, and they were fucking just about every day now. It'd taken him just three days to spear one of her eggs—a miracle given she was almost 40. Elly had immediately raced out and picked up some plan B, but she just couldn't bring herself to follow through on it.
Now she was caught in a limbo, unable to abandon Devon's child, and too ashamed to admit her infidelity to Dave. She knew the man likely wouldn't divorce her over it; her children were old enough to support themselves, true, but they weren't out of the house yet, and neither of them had actually finished high school. A divorce would only throw them into chaos, and she knew Dave wouldn't let something like that happen.
She'd considered telling Dave it was his, but that would only buy her enough time to give birth to the child. Devon wasn't fair-skinned; in fact, his entire ****** was likely the darkest shade of black she'd ever seen. There was no hope of Dave ever believing the child was his. So, Elly was stuck. She hadn't actually told Devon that she was carrying his baby out of fear that he'd force her to abort it, but Elly suspected the teen already knew he'd knocked her up.
It could be that his lack of curiosity or concern meant he didn't care if she was either way. He had to know that his potent, virile seed was basically guaranteed to impregnate her, didn't he? Devon presented the joint to her again, and she slid her lips off his cock with a wet pop before taking a long drag. Elly thought of what the other women in her congregation would think if they learned about this. Letting a black man ravage her and then doing drugs in his room while pregnant. The immorality of it made her dizzy, though she supposed that could also be the weed.
Eventually Devon dropped another load down her throat, and she knew he was done. Three in one night wasn't a record by any stretch—the first few nights, especially—had been incredibly taxing on her body. But she'd noticed he'd been slowing down recently, and the concern that she was beginning to bore him felt like a brick in her stomach.
Almost as though the young man were reading her mind, he drew his attention away from his phone to ask her a simple question: “How old's your ********?” The question struck Elly like a slap, and for a moment she just gaped at Devon, not willing to clarify what she knew he meant. “I fuck you stupid or sum'? I asked how old your girl was, bitch.” He'd put his phone to the side, and Elly knew she would need to answer if she didn't want to be beaten again.
She briefly considered lying to him and saying her ******** wasn't 18, but she knew he would find out on his own eventually. She'd had her children back to back, almost exactly 9 months apart. While her son was almost 19, her ******** had only just celebrated her 18th birthday the week before Devon and his ****** had arrived in their neighborhood.
“Can I ask... why?” She probed at his question, hoping it was unrelated to her worries. But Devon seemed hell-bent on breaking her heart that night.
“I wanna fuck her. I need some new pussy n’ yo ass is losin’ its luster, if you catch me. She's eighteen, yeah?” Elly couldn't bring herself to lie to Devon, so, holding her tears back, she shakily nodded her head. “Aight, gimme her contact information. Sluts like you pump out sluts; it shouldn't take me a day or two to get her ass bouncin’ on my shit. Leave my money on the table in the kitchen and get the fuck out.”
Elly swiped through her phone with bleary eyes and did as she was told, unable to bring herself to disobey him. She knew she should be fighting this and knew that it was a mother's duty to protect her ******** from a man like this. But in the moment, the only thing Elly could feel was pain and loss from not being Devon's top choice. This swirled chaotically, with a tinge of jealousy for her ********. The little bitch would soon usurp Elly's rightful place under Devon's strong, African body, and she resented her for that.
Elly gathered up her clothes and got dressed, trying her best not to openly weep in front of Devon, who had started watching something on his phone. Elly pulled her thong up, knowing it would be soaked in cum by the time she got home. It never mattered; Dave would be asleep now, having failed to reach her, and she would have the house to herself to clean and shower before reluctantly joining her husband in bed.
Maurice glanced up from his place on the couch as Elly walked out, careful to leave the small wad of bills on the table as she'd been told. His eyes tracked her across the kitchen and through the entryway, as they always did. But unlike every other night, this time Maurice spoke up before she could slip her pumps on and make the shameful walk back to her house.
“Tha fuck you cryin’ fer?” The words took Elly aback. The man had never spoken to her in all her comings and goings, despite clearly knowing what she had been doing with his son. Lord knew there were occasions where she couldn't control her voice. Even still, the man had never mentioned it, never sneered at her, and never even so much as attempted to insert himself in his son's business. Elly paused as she bent to collect her shoes.
“I-what…?” She blushed as she realized her surprise was making her come across poorly to the man. “I wasn't crying!” But the sniffle in her voice rendered her denial moot.
“Naw, I know wassup. My boy jus’ ditched you for a younger pussy, aye?” It wasn't really a question, but he'd given her space in the conversation to open up. And despite the distance between them, Elly couldn't help but feel somewhat touched by his act of reaching out. She hadn't expected it, and in the void left by Devon coldly shunning her, she was grateful for the affection.
“He just... well, I'm getting old and... I don't know what I expected.” She was trying her best not to start crying again. It stung; she knew it shouldn't, but all the same, she couldn't deny that she'd developed something more for Devon than a simple sexual lust.
Maurice came over to her, taking his time to approach her as though she would bolt like a frightened deer. “Yeah, that's how it is. Ya get old, n’ ya lose ya value. But don't let my old lady know I said that. I'd be in a casket by tomorrow.” His gruff chuckle at his own joke managed to warm a small part of Elly's chest. His arms came around her, and for a brief moment, she didn't know what to do. The hug was nice and comforting, but appropriately formal.
Again, Elly was taken aback by how thoughtful Maurice was being. She hadn't expected this kind of care; it confused her as much as it settled her. “If you need someone to lean on, jus' let me know, you hear? I ain't no young buck now, but everything still works the way it ought to. If you get lonely, jus’ keep me in mind, yeah?”
Was he offering her... sex? Did he think she'd just fuck him? Immediately after Devon had essentially dumped her for her ********, Elly was so bewildered that all she could do was smile and nod. “I'll keep that in mind. But… what about your wife?” Elly had only ever seen the woman when they were moving in; she couldn't remember ever seeing her at the house after that.
“Aw hell, that ol' bat works nights down at the laundromat. I've been goin’ mad sittin’ here, jerkin’ myself numb. She won't let me touch her; she says she's always tired. I ain't see why we can't help each other with that. ' Especially since yo' nights just freed up, if ya catch me.” So, Maurice was propositioning her, and rather directly at that. A thought occurred to Elly.
“Maurice, you don't... You wouldn't happen to think that I'm a prostitute, would you?” His confusion was immediate, and Elly could see she'd gotten the wrong impression. “No, sorry! Nevermind, I'm sorry!” She tried to pull away, but the big man simply laughed and held onto her.
“I ain't never met a whore who pays to get fucked. Nah, I knew you was jus' a little white slut lookin’ for good dick. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. Known a million like you, Lord Willin’, I'll know a million mo'. Don't you go worryin' that lil red head of yours; to me, you jus' a regular ol’ slut.”
Despite the man's harsh words, Elly found herself relaxing in his arms, oddly comforted by his insults and belittling. But she knew, somewhere deep in her mind, that the man used the terms affectionately. They were tender off his tongue, and instead of being offended, Elly clung to them with pride. As though they were expectations she should be living up to.
Finally, the large man separated himself from her, and she looked up into his dark eyes. She could feel it then, like a creeping jolt of electricity up her spine. There was lust in his eyes—the slight parting of his lips, the way he had disengaged from the hug but hadn't quite let go of her. She knew they were going to kiss before he even made his move, and she let him.
Elly was far beyond understanding what her life was. These past few months had been such an insane rollercoaster of emotions and experiences that she couldn't even tell whether to be upset or overjoyed. All she knew in that moment was that Maurice's lips were the softest, most reassuring thing she'd felt amidst the turmoil. She melted into him, willing herself to forget about Devon, about her husband, the baby, and her children. She passed her tongue through his lips and deepened the kiss, letting Maurice know that she needed more.
Surprisingly, he cut her short. It wasn't abrupt, but feeling his lips pull away from hers made Elly feel as though she were being abandoned once again. Maurice pressed an incredibly large finger to her lips to shush her imminent protests. “This keeps on, an’ you ain't going to have a home to get back to. Shuffle on, woman, but be back here tomorrow. I reckon Dev ain't done with yo' ass jus’ yet, and’ I'ma want my piece of you when he's done. Ya hear?”
She picked up the hint of reluctance in his voice as he spoke, and she nodded, trying not to come across any more desperate than she already had. “I'll be by tomorrow. Thanks for this, Maurice. It really meant a lot. I hope you're right... about Devon, I mean.”
He smiled warmly. “I know my boy; jus’ cause he's lookin’ for a new bitch don't mean he's done witchu. He's jus’ like his ol’ man that way.”
Elly saw a chance for some light flirting and decided to take it, not wanting to leave her end of their talk on a sour note: “Hopefully that isn't the only thing he got from his old man.” She was careful to lace her words with anticipation, and Maurice didn't miss a beat.
“Naw girl, if anythin’ this ol’ dog still got him beat, jus ya wait n’ see.” And with that, Elly left the Watson residence for her own house. As she suspected, the lights were all out. Disabling the alarm, she quietly stepped through the entrance and threw her coat into the closet. Her crotch had grown uncomfortable with all the cum that had soaked through her thong and into her pants, so her first stop was the upstairs washroom.
Tip-toeing her way up the stairs, Elly congratulated herself on another successful night of cheating on her husband. She'd long stopped feeling bad about it; even before Devon came into her life, Elly had entertained the idea of going behind Dave's back. She'd fought for years to gain even a sliver of the man's affections, but he'd seemed to have forgotten about the passion they'd once shared.
If Dave refused to give her what she needed, then why shouldn't she get it elsewhere? And it wasn't like he'd ever been particularly good in the first place. Especially now that she had Devon to compare him to. It wasn't that Elly disliked her husband; he was kind, compassionate, and a good father. Their children had never wanted for anything, nor had they lacked affection or care. All things considered, Elly was incredibly proud of the ****** she'd built.
“If only he were Devon...” but she banished the thought. Devon would never be the kind of man to raise her children, not because he couldn't; he definitely could, if he'd wanted to. But she knew he didn't, and that was the problem. If she could keep her relationship with Devon and have Dave raise the children that came of it, that would be the ideal situation. But how could she get Dave to accept that path?
Elly passed her son's room, so wrapped up in thought that she nearly, very nearly, missed the soft electric whirring that emanated from beyond his door. She had almost continued on to the washroom, thinking it'd been her imagination, but leaning a bit closer to the door brought the sound into sharper focus. It was the definite oscillating hum of an electric motor. It is almost like a slowly reciprocating device. It reminded her of the small breast pump she'd used when Miranda had been born.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she silently pressed an ear to his door. Her eyebrows drew together as the sounds she picked up confused her further. There was a wet sort of... squelching? And soft, feminine muttering. “What the fuck is he doing in there? Does he have a girl over?!” An indignant rage overtook Elly for a brief moment as she considered how he could have possibly thought he could get away with that. Deciding to brave the consequences, whatever they may be, Elly cracked his door open and peered in.
As it turned out, Daniel was alone. Which confused Elly as her mind struggled to comprehend what she was seeing. There, on the bed, was her son. Or, at least, she thought it was Daniel. They were dressed in what had to be some of the sluttiest clothing Elly had ever seen in person. The shortest miniskirt possible, fishnet stockings, knee-high socks, a long blond wig, and a bra holding almost nothing.
They were on their hands and knees, facing away from her, the room softly lit by the glow of a laptop screen in front of them. They were watching some kind of pornography, or maybe recording? Elly couldn't tell. Her eyes were locked onto the machine resting on the bed behind them, obviously the source of the electric whirring she'd heard. She watched on in stark amazement as the machine pushed, and then pulled, one of the largest Black dildos she'd ever seen, in and out of their asshole.
A moan slid out from the person's mouth, and Elly knew instantly that it was, in fact, Daniel. But the contrast between the boy she knew and the degenerate slut she saw on the bed was dismantling her mind. When had he gotten all of this stuff? Did that mean he was gay? Was he trans? A crossdresser? How long had he been doing this? Did his sister know? Did Dave know?
Elly gaped at the scene playing out before her, noting absently that there seemed to be some kind of device around his penis. A cage of some sort. And then her son reached for something—a bottle of some kind—lube, maybe? Elly was still so out of it that she didn't process what was happening until it had already happened.
Daniel had turned to re-lubricate the massive black cock pummeling his ass when his eyes landed squarely on hers. There was an incredibly tense moment where neither of them so much as flinched, obviously not sure what to do or say. Elly’s mind was screaming for her to shut the door, but she just stared dumbly into the room, into her son's widening eyes.
Finally, with a jolt of reality, Elly slowly stepped back and shut the door with a soft click. There were no shouts or rushed movements trying to cover up what was happening. Everything returned to the way it had been before she opened the door, the soft electric whirring continuing on the other side. Numbly, Elly turned to the washroom and stiffly made her way inside.
What was she going to do? The information she'd just been forced to take in was so overwhelming that she didn't even know where to start. Did she confront him? Pretend she hadn't seen anything? She'd obviously been snooping, so did she even have any right to bring it up? Elly didn't realize that she'd stepped into the shower with her pants on.
If she did confront him, what would she even say? He was an adult and could make his own choices. It's not really like she had much of a moral leg to stand on when it came to her sexual proclivities. Finally, noticing her pants were entirely soaked, she swore softly and began to strip them off. A task made infinitely more difficult with how they were now plastered to her slender, well-toned legs.
Elly was fit for 38. She kept a stringent exercise routine and monitored her diet closely. Having two children had threatened to balloon her weight, and now that her metabolism was virtually nonexistent, she needed to maintain a razor focus in order to keep her figure. At just under 5'9", she clocked in at a healthy 142 lbs. Mostly lean muscle, but with some definite cushioning where it mattered.
She'd undergone breast implant surgery when she was 34 as a gift from Dave. The surgeon, Dr. Arnold Bowman, had been blessed by Hephaestus, based on the way he'd sculpted her chest. The swell of her 34DD breasts was natural, but their perk and bounce were anything but. She always took a brief moment in the mirror to admire how they sat—gorgeously rounded and perfectly proportioned for her body.
The slight ripple of her abs was a constant reminder of the work and dedication she put into her physical appearance. Elly frowned as she peeled the second leg of her pants from her body. Not that the routine had attracted any attention from Dave. Lousy bum. She wrung out her pants as best she could before plopping them into the hamper outside the shower. A problem for future Elly, no doubt.
Daniel's moan floated across her mind, and she drifted back into her thoughts, swiping a hand across her smooth slit and noting, with amusement, the substantial amount of cum it came away coated in. God, Devon came so much, as though he had a bottomless prostate. The image of Daniel bent over on his bed, getting plowed by the comically large cock, played across her vision.
Elly bit her lip. At the end of the day, Elly loved her children; she wanted them to be happy. If that meant wading into the sticky mess of what her son got up to in that room, then she would just have to do it. The last thing she wanted, as hypocritical as it was, was for them to keep secrets from her.
Daniel's room was silent when she passed by again. The electric whir that had caught her attention had vanished, and she suspected her son was in the middle of a quiet breakdown. Thoughts much like hers would be running through his head as sleep refused to take him. She considered knocking, putting an end to the rampant speculation he must have been enduring, but ultimately decided that it was too soon. They both needed time to come up with words to explain their feelings.
Her shared room with Dave was not as silent. His loud snoring had been a constant companion since they'd started living together. They had both tried almost every solution available to the market to help settle his god awful sawing, but he could never stick with one long enough for it to make a difference. He would invariably forget to use it or buy more, and then that would be it. Back to the deafening roar of his nose and throat.
It was only recently that Elly had come to like that part of Dave. She could come and go from the bedroom as she pleased, using his terrible rumble as a cover for her movements. Their king-sized, four-post bed left her with ample space to move about without so much as jostling her husband. She dropped the towel that had been wrapped around her torso and slid into the silken sheets.
She was extremely grateful that she'd had her body lasered. Eliminating the need to shave had made her life infinitely better on every level, and she swore she would never take for granted the feeling of bare skin against silk sheets again. Dave moaned and snorted before rolling away from her, smacking his lips loudly before muttering something in his sleep.
The guilt crept back into her heart for a moment as the memories of their time together crammed into a small one-bedroom apartment flooded back to her. They had been young and dumb, happy and indomitable. She had worked two jobs, and he had poured every waking moment into his schooling. Things were tight, but they'd made it work, and they'd had fun doing it. They were bright, nostalgic days.
But that was then, and this was now. Elly had grown, Dave had grown, and it was just an unfortunate thing that they had grown apart the way they had. She thought about scooting across the mattress to press herself up against his back, curling an arm around him, and holding him like she had all those years ago. But the sound of her hips slapping against Devon's stopped her. She turned over, away from her husband, and tried to sleep.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The Geltan house was early to rise during the week. Dave was up and out of the house before Elly even awoke most mornings. It was a rare thing for her to beat him to the coffee maker, and today had been no different. A small note sat next to the brewer, penned in Dave's rushed but articulate hand. “Glad you came home. Had me worried. Have a great day. Love you.”
Elly crumpled the note and tossed it into the recycling. Closing in on 6 a.m., the kids would be waking up soon, and she wasn't particularly looking forward to facing Daniel. She had thought about what to say but ultimately decided to open with reassurance. “You can trust me; you can talk to me; I'll love you regardless.” Hopefully, it would be enough to put a hole in his emotional walls.
Miranda was up first, bouncing down the stairs as though life had rolled out a red carpet just for her. She'd inherited Elly's shockingly red hair, and it drifted across her shoulders in broad curls that Elly had always been slightly jealous of. Miranda had gotten more of her father's face, but she carried his narrow chin much better than he did.
The 18-year-old girl slid across the tiled floor in clean socks, ending up next to Elly at the coffee machine. “Hey mom!” It was just a little too bright and a little too eager. It set Elly's hackles to rise, and she directed an upturned eyebrow at her ********.
"Well, someone's excited about something. Couldn't be school... couldn't be the part-time job, and I know for a fact that the cheer team has been running you through drills non-stop. so that leaves... a boy?” Elly was rewarded with the shocked look of someone watching Sherlock Holmes unveil the plot of the show.
“There's no way you guessed that! Nooooooo way! How'd you know? Are you wire-tapping me?!” Her ********'s accusation was fair, though—maybe not for the reasons she would have guessed. Elly decided to play this one closer to the truth than would be believable.
“No! Of course not! I just sold your contact information to the highest bidder. Have fun in Albania working the fields as a mail-order bride!”
Miranda rolled her eyes and resumed plucking a mug from the cabinet. “No, seriously, what gave it away? If *** finds out, I'm pretty sure he's going to lock me away in my room like Rapunzel.”
Elly appreciated the relationship she had with her ********. They'd bonded a lot more than she had with Daniel, and as a result, there was an uncanny sense of mutual trust between them. Miranda had never held anything back from Elly, always coming to her about every minor struggle. Or, at least, Elly hoped that was the case; after last night, she wasn't sure she could take that as fact.
“Sweetie, I was eighteen once. I can tell you the only thing that would have me bouncing down the stairs like that at six in the morning was a cute boy. Ok, maybe Christmas, too. but it's the middle of June, so...”
Miranda blushed slightly as she dispensed some hot coffee into the mug she'd chosen. Small pastel animals are printed across its side. “It's Devon... from down the street. You know, the Watson's boy? He got my number somehow, and I guess he wants to take me out. I can understand why he wouldn't come tell me directly; after Daddy... well, after the "incident,” I don't think I'd want to come here either if I were him.”
And there it was. The fruits of Elly's betrayal. She'd served up her ******** to that hungry beast of a man on a silver platter, and she was all too eager to ride it straight to his table. Elly had no doubt that, by the end of the day, her darling ******** would no longer be a virgin. She felt the compulsion to apologize to Miranda come and go, the words dying in her throat before they could ever materialize. Instead, she forced a shocked look into her eyes and pressed for information.
“You said yes? Did he say where he was taking you?”
Miranda wobbled her head, wincing slightly. “He's hot! And the few times I've bumped into him outside his house, he's been really nice to me. I thought I'd give him a shot, you know? He didn't say, just said "out,” so... the mall? Maybe?”
Elly frowned, making sure to give it a motherly tone. Her disapproval was meant to be for the safety and well-being of her ********, not for the feeling of jealousy pulsing through her temples. Little Bastard never took her "out." She only ever got to see him while being pressed into his mattress.
“Well, when you find out, I want you to tell me where and when. I expect you to be home by eleven at the latest. I know it's all new and shiny, but it's a school night, and I don't need you two showing up at my door escorted by a cop!” Elly knew she wasn't going to see her ******** by 11. Devon probably wouldn't let Miranda go until early in the morning. She just hoped he didn't hurt her ******** too badly when he finally decided to push things.
“And if he starts getting handsy, you remind him that your mama is a black belt!”
This got Miranda to chuckle, and she settled at the kitchen table to nurse her coffee. “Yeah, ok, the only black belt you've ever worn is a seatbelt. Mom, don't worry! I'm a big girl. No means no; I know that.”
Elly just needed one more push to make her concern seem legitimate, and then she would drop it. She settled at the table with her ******** and did her best to seem bashful. “I know, sweetie. I trust you. But, you know, boys these days can just be so pushy, you know? I'm just worried about you. Be safe, ok? Oh! But if things do take a turn, you make damn sure he wraps it up, you hear me?! I'm not ready to be a grandma!”
Miranda's face turned crimson as she spluttered into her coffee. “MOM! STOP! PLEASE! OH MY GOD!”.
Daniel picked that moment to round the corner into the kitchen. Elly did her best to make her greeting to him as normal and casual as she could, but there was no hiding the “deer-in-the-headlights” look he had as they locked eyes. Thankfully, Miranda was busy recovering from her comment and didn't seem to notice the awkwardness.
Miranda, seemingly grasping at any chance to bail on the conversation, scooped up her coffee and excused herself to start getting ready for school. Daniel quietly pulled his own cup from the cupboard, and Elly studied his back. She couldn't quite get the image of him bent over on his bed out of her mind when she looked at him like that.
“Dan, can I... can we talk? About last night?” Elly could see his shoulders stiffen, and the grip on his mug tightened ever-so-slightly. He was trembling, clearly scared out of his mind. “Oh, Daniel! No, no, sweety, it's ok. Oh, honey, it's ok!” Elly slid from her chair and threw her arms around him from behind. She shushed him as he silently started sobbing. "Oh, Daniel, you're okay! It's ok! I promise, everything is fine, sweetie. I'm not mad; I'm not upset at all; everything's alright!”
She could feel her son crumple into the counter. The weight of the previous night's worry was flooding out of him like a broken dam. He spun in her arms and buried himself in her chest, shaking and crying as the relief caused him to unclench muscles he probably didn't even know he had. They stood like that for several minutes, him sobbing and her stroking his hair while quietly reassuring him that everything would be ok.
Eventually, Elly asked if he was okay enough to take a seat and have some coffee. He nodded and wiped his tears on her housecoat one last time before shuffling to the table. She gave him a few more minutes to settle and dry his eyes before she started in on her pseudo-interrogation.
“So, before we get into it, I want you to know that I love you; that's unconditional. Full stop. I don't care how things shake out; come what may, I will always love you. I may not understand what that was. But I don't need to in order to love you. Is that clear?”
Daniel nodded, struggling to meet her eyes but not actively avoiding them either. That was good, but it also didn't look like he would be volunteering much information unless she pulled it out of him.
“Ok… so… I guess I should start with the obvious one. Are you still Daniel? Like, are you my son? Or do I have another ******** now?” Elly dove in feet first, using the foundation of unconditional love to springboard into, hopefully, what would be the biggest bombshell of their talk.
To his credit, Daniel looked like a freshly caught fish thrown into the center of the death valley. Elly wasn't sure it would be physically possible for someone to look as utterly uncomfortable as he did in that moment, and she knew that she'd hit the nail on the head straight out of the gate. Hesitantly, he stuttered to a start, “I... well, I guess I don't... I mean, I don't... know? I think?”
Elly stared back at him, waiting for more. When nothing came, she decided to take a more bull-headed approach: “Dan, your father didn't marry me for my wit or my brains; you were bent over getting buttfucked by a fat black dick while dressed like a club slut. I'm struggling to identify anything “straight” about that. You're going to have to help me out here. I can't jump into your head and take a look around, you know? You've obviously been doing... that... for a while, so if anyone would have a decent idea of what's going on with you, it would be you, right?”
Beyond Daniels' absolute horror at her description of the event, her words seemed to have the impact she wanted them to because, instead of a slowly cooking fish, he now looked like a blushing schoolgirl. He tried again, this time with a little more conviction: “I don't know... it's hard for me to describe, or even, like, think about? Some days I feel like I need to be the most feminine person on earth, you know? Some days I want to paint my nails and style my hair, wear cute clothes, flirt with hot guys, and take a bunch of cute selfies, but others... I don't know. Other days I just, like, feel like a dude. Does that make sense? Like, I want to be able to be both when I want to. You know?”
He looked like he was trying to explain it more to himself than to her, but Elly supposed she could understand that feeling somewhat. Some days she wanted to put a boot on Dave's face and tell him to lick the bottom of it; other days she wanted Devon to turn her inside out with his cock. It was give-and-take, push-and-pull. Some days it was more of one than the other; other days it was equal parts of both. Humanity existed on a spectrum in almost every aspect; why couldn't that be a sliding scale as well?
“I think I get that. Some days you're Danielle, others your Daniel. It seems pretty simple. So, with that in mind, I'm assuming last night was more of a Danielle thing? Are both sides of you into guys?” Elly wasn't too sure how to word what she was trying to ask, but Daniel picked up her intent and squirmed a little as he thought about his answer. Her answer?
“So, like, how much do you actually want to know? Because, like, this is going to take a while to get through. Like, it's actually a lot.” He looked up at her, his short, puffy hair partially obscuring his eyes, but the pleading in them told Elly everything that she needed to know. She needed to either be all in or all out. There would be no cherry-picking parts of this story. She looked at the clock over the stove and saw that it was almost 6:45. They weren't going to have time to dig into this without school interrupting.
“Tell you what, I'm going to make a call to your school and let them know that you've come down with a terrible stomach bug, super bad, liquid at both ends and all that, and then you and I are going to go get our nails done. I'll ask you some questions, and you can fill me in on what the deal is. Sound good?”
Daniel turned back into the sweating fish, an uncomprehending look plastered across his face as his expectations of what was going to happen that morning were utterly shredded. Then his face twisted up into a pained look of emotions forcing their way out of an incredibly small box. Her son had obviously been bottling up a lot these past few years, and finally having the ability to vent them into the atmosphere was physically taxing his system.
Elly mentally patted herself on the back for some A+ mothering. It felt good to be a rockstar every now and then, and helping her son come out of his shell, even just a little, was an accomplishment she felt proud of. But then a small pill of dread sprung to life in her guts as she realized that her time with Devon had made it all too easy to forget that her children were people, too. Something about that young man brought out an entirely inhuman side of her. Altogether too willing to abandon those same people in a desperate bid for pleasure and purpose.
She looked at her son, crying at the other end of the table, taking in his pained and relieved expression, and she realized that even in the throes of what should have been an intense and, frankly, incredibly raw moment, her mind had still turned to Devon. That was the moment that Elly came to grips with the fact that she had been broken. And with her ********'s introduction to Devon, it was only a matter of time before her ****** fell apart around her. The players were moving pieces, and she wasn't sure which she was. A player or a piece.
I try to make sure characters are believable both through their motivations and their dialogue. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story 
I hope I can continue to write enjoyable works for you in the future as well!!
btw why did you choose to call it "Love Not Yet Lost"? I suspect it's the love Dave feels towards his wife 
also how Elly schemes to continue the situation she placed herself in is top notch, if you will have a chance to lean more on that aspect it would be glorious <3 How many chapters do you expect?
it's comments like these that keep authors writing. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! I'm glad you enjoyed it! It means a lot that you were able to connect to Daniel so well, I'm never sure if I've captured the essence of someone well enough for a reader to relate to them. I hope I can continue to inspire you in the future as well! 
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