Prologue #2
What the fuck?
My mama’s best friend is holding my cock, uh, nope, scratch that, my mama’s best friend is squeezing my cock.
She gently rubs up and down, keeping a good grip as she does through my slacks as she breaks eye contact and kisses my neck then pokes her tongue out, licking it making my dick harden even more as whispers, “I’ve always wondered how big you were.”
Pretty sure what she is doing is wrong and I’m pretty sure I should be walking away.
She unzips me and pulls my cock out and grasps it in her fist then squeezes it as she slowly moves her hand up and down my length, giving it the right amount of pressure my mind blanks but as she rounds me and we lock eyes, all rational thoughts leaves me.
She grins and drops to her knees and takes the tip that is weeping into her mouth and sucks the head of my cock before taking me whole, right to the back of her throat, swallowing me like a pro and I drop my head back groaning in pleasure as my spine instantly begins to tingle because this is my first blowjob and I’m pretty sure that I’m about to lose my virginity to my mama’s best friend and I can’t seem to give a fucking shit because damn that feels good.
***
I walk up the stairs towards my room two hours later, my balls well and truly drained and a shower needed.
After Mrs. Clots sucked me until I painted her throat, she lay down on the grass and spread her legs, showing me she was bare and demanded I eat her out, which I did without complaint, even if she did stink.
I made her come twice with my tongue and lips, sucking her clit while flicking it fast which was no easy feat, while four of my fingers thrusted inside her before I was ready to fuck her cunt which I did.
Three fucking times while sucking and biting her fake tits all while her husband was still at work and her daughter was none the wiser inside before I left her in a puddle on the grass and drove home but again, I need a fucking shower because she stunk.
I used protection and ensured she swallowed my cum every time I let my load off, I still need to wash myself down there.
“What a way to lose your virginity though,” I mutter to myself as I enter my room and notice my mama going through my drawers, banging them close when she only finds clothes.
She doesn’t look up as I enter, and I don’t acknowledge her as I grab a pair of sweats and a shirt, knowing I can’t let Dad see the scars on my back because let’s face it, he’ll be in here in a moment to see what the ruckus is about, and I walk into my bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me without a word to her.
It isn’t the first time she’s gone through my shit, and it won’t be the last, which is probably why it won’t be the last time I fuck Mrs. Clots.
No girl I bring home will be enough for my mother, everything has to be on her terms which is why I was still a fucking virgin at sixteen.
But now, I’m going to get my rocks off on her best friend and never will I ever fucking settle down.
I won’t be building a property behind the clubhouse like most brothers do after I patch in.
I have been saving like my ass depends on it to have something of my own.
The furthest I can get away from her the better and hopefully, when I go to college, when I get my medical degree, something she isn’t too happy about.
She prefers me to become a lawyer or some shit, just like she isn’t pleased that I’m going to double major so I can help out at Rebel’s Motors.
Fixing things is something I enjoy, she’ll back off and if that doesn’t work, surely becoming a brother would?
One could fucking hope.
Jasmine – Age Fifteen
I slowly move my leaf green salad, the only thing I will be given tonight, around my plate, trying to make it look like I’ve eaten some of it even though I haven’t and definitely won’t while my parents discuss the next function they have to attend.
Something about raising money for people without homes, a fundraiser that they don’t even care about, only going so they can keep up appearances but I don’t pay them any attention, I never do.
If the world could swallow me whole and help me disappear then I’d welcome it.
I hate my life.
Okay, I know that sounds like a typical teenage thing to say but really, I hate my life and even though I’ve grown up privileged, been placed in the best schools in the state and live in a massive house most kids would dream of, if I could run away without my parents dragging me back because I’m their asset, I would.
Money, wealth, it means nothing, not in my household, not with parents like mine.
I wouldn’t wish this life on my worst enemy.
“Jasmine!” Mama snaps and I tense as she commands, “Sit up straighter! What have I told you about slouching?”
It’s just the three of us sitting at the massive dining table that seats at least sixteen, yet she’s snapping because I don’t look poised enough for her liking.
Typical Mama fashion, always having to be perfect.
Trying not to roll my eyes knowing the punishment, I sit up straighter, press my back against the chair, and keep my eyes on my plate as I hold my breath and wait for her attention to return to my father.
If I make one wrong move, she’ll nitpick every little detail about me and put me down yet again, and honestly, I can’t be bothered to feel bad about myself, and don’t get me started about the basement.
The thought of the dark, cold basement where I have been shoved more times than I can count makes my heart race with fear, and I try not to move.
Growing up, I always thought my parents were normal, that this is how they are supposed to be, that the punishments I received for the smallest of things were what other kids had to deal with as well.
I was wrong.
They went to work as other kids' parents did, but they didn’t come home at a decent hour.
No, they came home late most nights, except for Sundays, when Mama demanded a family meal at six every week.
I thought being brought up by nannies was the norm, that having a stranger bring me up, because Mama never had a nanny for more than two weeks, my father liked them a little too much, was all normal.
They ensured I was fed, that my clothes met my mother’s requirements.
They made sure to keep me locked in the basement if my mother decided I didn’t get a high enough grade at school, or if I’d smudged something in my picked out clothes.
They ensured my food was salad only, that nothing, not even a bed was in my room if I’d spoke wrongly towards my mother.
I thought all that was normal because my brother got the same treatment until he learned quicker than me to basically be a statue and do everything our parents say, turning himself into their prodigy, but it wasn’t normal.
I joined the cheer team as soon as I hit high school, thinking maybe if I showed initiative she would be proud of me.
Come game day, all of my teammates had their families cheering for them, showing them their support while I was alone, I only had one family member there, Granny.
She always supported me because my uncle couldn’t make it due to work.
Both are to this day unaware of how I’ve been treated and while Granny believes her son can do no wrong, my uncle believes I’m treated like a princess and I realized just how dysfunctional my family was.
My father is the vice president within the senator’s office, he’s right under Senator Smith, who, in my opinion, is a sleaze.
If I told Dad that, he’d probably smack me.
He works seven days a week and family appearances is important to him while my mother, a woman Granny has never supported, she’s the typical socialite and physical appearances are important to her and apparently the day my father married her, Granny cut him out of her will.
Her fortune, which according to Mama is a lot and he won’t get a cent of it because Granny knew Mama just wanted wealth when she latched onto my father who according to Granny went from a fun, loving man to a dick – her words not mine, though I do agree with her, he is a dick.
I mean, what kind of father sits back and allows his wife to treat their daughter like crap?
“Young lady, you will look at your mother when she addresses you!” my father booms, and I flinch involuntarily, slowly look up, and lock eyes with Mama’s just as the door to the dining room opens and my brother's voice enters the room, making me tense further.
Brady Williams is four years older than me, in college studying business, and a total douche.
“Sorry I’m late,” Brady says, but I don’t look his way. I avert my eyes back to my untouched salad seeing Mama’s whole attention is on her favorite child.
“My baby,” Mama says with glee, and I hear her chair scrape along the hardwood floor as she goes to greet her favorite child while Dad stays in his seat and greets, “Bruce, it’s good to see you.” And I swear, I stop breathing.
“It’s good to see you, sir. How’s the office?” Bruce replies in his slimy voice as my brother, and he sit beside my mother.
“It’s good,” Dad replies as Mama gushes, “Brady, sweetheart, your report, you had the whole college praising you.” But her voice sounds funny as the feeling like I’m underwater envelops me.
My palms sweat as I feel the air being sucked out of the room, and my salad blurs as they begin talking about how amazing my brother is while everything spins, Bruce’s presence making it difficult to breathe.
“You’re going to take it, and you are going to love it…” Bruce snarls in my ear as he holds me tightly, his arm wrapped around my waist, his other hand trying to pull my pajama pants down, and I squirm against him, tears soaking my cheeks.
“No,” I scream and buck while he chuckles and grabs my breast, squeezing it hard.