Kevin’s Hurt


Two years ago that scrawny shit Kevin raped my sister. He is a blond soft-spoken shortie, effeminate and timid, but with women he’s entirely different. He was wearing a mask, but she was able to easily recognize him. He hit her a few times until she was too scared to resist, then tied her hands behind her back and raped her repeatedly, and when he was done, he dropped her off in the street, shaken and battered and suicidal. He was found, but due to a procedural error, he wasn’t convicted. The procedural error may have not been merely a mistake either. Sadly, it’s not impossible to bribe an officer, and it isn’t even all that expensive. Regardless, Kevin got completely off the hook. For a while.

A year has passed. I’m sure he’s already forgotten about my sister. Kevin has actually offered to buy her a drink at a bar where she accidentally met him last month. Was he really that stupid? Or was he even wore than I thought? I certainly haven’t forgotten anything, and I wasn’t going to let go.

I could have easily broken every bone in his scrawny body, but then I would go to jail for assault, and I could do better. I looked into his life a bit and found that he had a girlfriend. I also got acquainted with his middle-aged mother. I wasn’t going to rape, of course, because I wasn’t like him, and because, again, I didn’t fancy serving time as a sex offender. But I was hell-bent on breaking him, and finally an opportunity presented itself.

His mother, a woman in her thirties, was apparently in the habit of going to a nearby bar and gradually getting completely shitfaced every couple of months to let off some steam. Sometimes she’d drink with a girlfriend or even a stranger, and drink some more alone when they’ve left, and then more still, until she had to be driven home in a kind of near-stupor. One guy saw her get driven to a hotel room by a guy she met. In a word, the lady was clearly lots of fun and an enviable target. But I didn’t want it to be that simple. Fucking Kevin’s mother was no particular punishment. She was not a slut, but certainly not a nun either, and Kevin okay with that. No, my aim was higher.

I kept looking until another one of her binge-drinking sessions came up, which she was in a habit of more or less announcing on Facebook. Her female friend, a tired-looking woman who only drank beer, appeared near her, chat with her for a while, and then left. She stayed, true to her habit, and ordered a whiskey. That’s when I appeared and offered to buy her a couple of drinks. The already tipsy woman soon agreed, and in half an hour I was listening to parts of her life-story and having her laugh at my comedic interjections. She was wearing a ruffled blouse and a pair of tight-fitting pants, her blond hair (so similar to her son’s) was long and straight, and, sinister plans aside, I might have bed this lady even in my free time.

Talking to her wasn’t that fun, though. She had a classless mixture of conservative and wildly radical opinions on politics, race, gender – pro-war, pro-abortion, pro-Buddhism, anti-Islam, all sorts of wild surprising assumptions, beliefs and superstitions (she believed in vaccine, but was also a firm believer in the supernatural and thought that a healer is preferable to a doctor, because ‘all doctors are charlatans’). I had no reason to seriously argue with the pretty, but apparently stupid woman. The tipsier she was, the less coherent her opinions got, until her face was stuck at my chest, apparently dozing off, with her arm on my ass and mine on her.

“Shall I take you home?” I said, and she agreed with a giggle.

In the car she tried to start something, but fell asleep before she managed to unzip me. I woke her up every couple of minutes, because the last thing I needed was having her sober up. I put a couple of beers on her lap, and every time she opened her eyes she opened one and then adorably zoned back out again.

When we were there, she reached to ring, mumbling, “Oh, I’m home, huh. Right…”

I kept her hand down. She tried to focus on me.

“Don’t you have keys?” I said.

“In my bag.”

She stood there as I looked through her bag. Under a pack of some hygienic stuff I found the keys, fished them out and took her into the house.

She switched on the lights and tried taking off her shoes, but almost toppled and burst out laughing. I helped her stay upwards.

“Keep the shoes on, Emma, kitten,” I said. She reached up and nibbled at my ear. Perhaps humoring me, or perhaps she’d forgotten all about them, she kept her heels and, dropping her bag awkwardly on the floor, pulled my hand with newfound strength towards the stairs.

Upstairs we stumbled into her bedroom and dropped on it, kissing. I got a good feel of her body through her blouse and pants, and was as eager to get those off her as well. Her breasts squeezed out to freedom as I half-unbuttoned her blouse and pulled down the cups of her bra, while the woman kept groping and petting the bulge in my pants with a drunken, unfocused illegal bahis smile. Kneeling on the bed in front of me, she tried sucking me off, but, unlike all those times in the car, on the stairs and in front of her house, – she was about to succeed. As she worked to free my cock from what apparently must have seemed to her an incomprehensible labyrinth of cloth, I reached over and slipped my hand down her pants.

Finally, there was a voice outside the door. “Mom… are you home?”

With a bland expression Emma looked up.

“Suck me off, kitten,” I whispered, and so she did as I played with her ass under the fabric.

“Are you home, mom?” said Kevin somewhere outside our room. “Are you drunk again, you…”

Emma heard nothing. Having finally gotten to my cock, she let out a grateful sound and immediately got to work: I felt her breath on my skin, then a moist kiss, and then she sucked most of my cock into her mouth and started working on it with her tongue. She kept doing it for a little bit, but then stopped almost completely, perhaps falling asleep.

I put my hand in her hair. “Go on, girl, don’t sleep,” I said and nudged her slightly, rousing another bout of vigorous sucking.

She wasn’t at all bad, and I liked her curvy body, too. Her round butt packed tight in her pants, her soft breasts supporting each other like a pair of sisters as their owner crouched on all fours on the bed near me – I was enjoying it all. But of course there was more to it.

“Mom, are you there?” said Kevin, and then there was a knock at the door.

His mother let out a confused “Mhm..?” and looked up from my crotch, but I nudged her face back to my crotch. Without waiting for an answer, though, Kevin, just opened the door. He was wearing that stern, bored expression. For a couple of seconds he stood there at the door. Emma’s face was stuck at my crotch, all he could see was her ass as she knelt in front of me.

As he was simply staring, doing nothing, I flipped him off and, pawing his mother’s ass, whispered, “Can’t you see mommy’s busy?”

Emma looked up at me. I blew her a kiss.

Kevin just stood at the door. Anyone would have fought me right then and there, but, apparently, not this piece of shit. By this time, I knew his character well. He was easily intimidated; perhaps that’s why he chose rape as a method of getting it on: although he wasn’t bad-looking in his own girly way, he was such an obvious wimp.

“Don’t do that, Dan,” he finally managed to whisper.

“Oh, you remember my name?”

“Dan, why are you doing this? Don’t…”

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Emma was still trying to blow me, moaning something incomprehensible, and finally using my cock for a pacifier and my crotch for a pillow.

I motioned at Kevin. “Come here.”

“Dan, please, let my mother go. Can’t you see she is drunk?”

“I said come here, you dumb piece of shit.”

He made a few steps towards me, increasingly defiant the closer he got, perhaps because the look of his mother fellating me was finally getting on his nerves.

When Kevin was within my reach, which was quite before I was in his, I grabbed him and, stirring Emma but not quite waking her up from her cock-sucking stupor, threw him onto the bed right next to his mother and pinned him down. He tried to free himself, so I grabbed him with both hands, used my weight to hold him steady and twisted his arm to the point of breaking. His face was stuck into the bedsheets. He let out a muffled wail. I twisted harder and told him to shut it. Then I pushed his mother aside (she rolled onto her back and let out a comical snore; her breasts were a marvel) and, holding Kevin down hard, spoke into his ear:

“You little piece of shit, do you want to survive this? If you do, keep your fucking calm and stop squirming about. If you’re too stupid to see, me and your mom are getting busy, so you should better go down and play some games or watch a cartoon or whatever other shit you do when you mommy’s entertaining a guest. She’s about to spread for me, and you don’t have the power to stop it. Interfere, and I’ll fucking punch out your teeth. Got me, you little cunt?”

He managed to nod. I eased my grasp. “Please, please, don’t,” he whispered when I let him rise his stupid blond head. He was so weak in my arms that I think I could’ve squished him like a bug if I wanted, and I certainly let him feel it. I wouldn’t have done any of that, but I bet on his cowardice, and the bet seemed a win. Shaking lightly, Kevin awkwardly crawled to the edge of the bed and looked on in horror as I moved to his mom and started to pull off her shirt, to which she responded with a drowsy giggle.

He started pleading with me in a low voice. I ignored him and called out to Emma. She woke up confused, but still horny, registered my presence and reached out to grab me and kiss, so kiss we did. “Please, no, I’m begging you, no, Dan, please, not my mom, please no,” hissed Kevin, his hands shaking, illegal bahis siteleri as he looked on, doing nothing: truly, he was a worm. I gave him a wink and started taking off his mother’s pants. She responded and started trying to help me undress her. Emma’s thighs were squeezed in them rather tight, so it took the drunk two of us quite a bit of wriggling and giggling until the woman was left in her panties – white silk with a semi-sheer crotch. “You’re a tease, you little slut,” I spoke in her ear, and got a horny moan in response.

Kevin was sitting motionless on the edge of the bed. Emma lay in front of me with her eyes closed, hands holding onto me. I helped her spread her legs really wide and bit into her pussy through silky-soft fabric. Emma let out a moan. Her sad excuse for a son merely stared. His chin shook, but he was afraid of me – too afraid to resist or fight back. I occasionally kept an eye on him as I ate out his mother. After a bit I told Emma to take off her panties.

“Dan…” she whispered, smiling, with her eyes still closed. She started pulling them off. I helped her. In one single motion they were down to her ankles.

“Oh god,” gasped Kevin, as his mother’s legs rose in the air, panties dangling from her left ankle. I crawled on top of her, my cock, wet with her saliva, waiting at the opening of her more-than-ready, soaking cunt.

“You’re so wet, you little slut.”

“Don’t call me that,” Emma mumbled, giggling and pretend-fighting me as she held onto me. She grabbed my ass, I started squeezing her tits.

At this point there was no reason for me to hold back. In a matter of seconds I was fucking the woman exactly the way that she asked me for back in the car. Emma’s eyes were still closed, but her mouth was not. She moaned and gasped with my every thrust, licked her lips and stuck out her tongue. I gave her a finger, which she immediately vacuumed in and started sucking on so hard that it was actually pleasant.

Then Kevin jumped at me. For a second I managed to have forgotten about him, immersed in his mother, and, to be honest, rather drunk myself. But the so-called son wasn’t even going to try and fight me off her. Instead he grabbed my arm and started begging to let his mother go. He said that I was the strongest, that I’ve proven everything that had to be proven, that he was a worm and admitted it here and now, and that I had to stop or he’d kill himself if this continues or something. At this point the barely conscious and immeasurably horny Emma seemed to have somewhat registered his presence.

“Kevin?” she said, wrinkle forming on her pretty forehead. “Whuh… what are you, huh..?”

She narrowed her eyes and put her palm on my chest, her legs moved closer together, and her pussy got tense. She tried to focus. Without stopping my thrusts, I showed Kevin a fist, touching the tip of his nose with my knuckles, and then pinned Emma back to the bed.

“It’s me, silly. Nobody’s here. Did you mistake me for him, you horny little..?”

“Oh god!” She started laughing embarrassedly. “Daniel.. oh god. Oh yeah, fuck me, oh you animal…”

Quickly relaxing as sex and alcohol drowned out her senses again, she wrapped her legs around my back and pressed on my ass, forcing my cock deed into herself. We got it on steady and hard. After a bit I turned her over, spread her willing legs and, pinning her down exactly the way the she wanted, finished in her from behind.

As I fucked Emma to her own orgasm, I occasionally gave threatening glances at Kevin, who was still on the edge of our bed. Then I noticed something. The crotch of his pants was wet. Did he piss himself? Oh wait, no, he didn’t: he came.

“You little shit,” I said amiably and gave him a shove. Kevin shrank at the sight of my fist. He was visibly shaking, his effeminate face was pink-eyed and red-nosed. From looking at him, you’d never know that this excrement could rape a girl.

Finally, we were done. I snuggled together with my busty Emma (her son still motionless on the edge of our bed) until she finally, gratefully fell asleep on her side, her welcoming breasts pressed against me, her left leg on mine. When she blacked out completely, I got off the bed and, flailing my glistening cock, grabbed her shaking blond douche of a son.

“What the hell are you even doing here anyway, huh? Get out of my and your mother’s room. Kevin, you–you better believe me that you are so much more pathetic than I thought you were, and that’s saying something. I’m actually appalled at how stupid you are.”

“Please don’t hurt her anymore.”

“Does she look hurt?”

“You’ve raped her, Dan!”

“No, I haven’t raped shit. We spend an evening together. She wanted my cock the moment she laid eyes on me, and she got what she wanted. Couldn’t you hear her screaming my name as I fucked her? Oh yeah, you could hear it well. Hear what, your mommy’s cunt is all right. It’s soft, it’s warm and can squeeze a cock like a hand. She was good, I liked canlı bahis siteleri her. She gives good head. And her tits are so fine, check them out–no, you piece of shit, I said check them out, they’re huge. Are you proud?”

“Please don’t touch me,” was all he could say.

I shoved a fist under his nose once again.

“See this?”

He was ready to break.

“Why is this happening?!”

“Because you deserve this, you fucker. Now get lost.” And, without waiting for him to get up, I threw him out of Emma’s bedroom myself. He started crying behind the door as I returned into his mother’s bed.


I and Emma woke together late in the morning. I put my hand on her pussy, still sloppy after yesterday, and fingered her until she asked me to do her. Twenty minutes and a blow job in the shower later, Emma sheepishly introduced me to Kevin downstairs. She didn’t remember much of yesterday. How her cute milfy head worked was not of my concern either way; she thought that we were about to start dating, but she obviously saw how distressed her son was as he was leaving the house, barely answering her concerned silly questions about whether everything was all right.

“I’ll talk to him,” said Emma when Kevin left. “Don’t worry.”

“I don’t. I know you’ll manage, you’re a good mom.”

She beamed and went for a kiss. Since we were alone in the house now, she knelt with a wry smile and blew me in the middle on the kitchen. All vengeance aside, I liked her.

My new fuckbuddy Emma may have been a simple person, but she was real handy in bed. In the span of a couple of weeks the airheaded woman got really attached to me. She was very ashamed that she was bringing home a man her son’s age, but she loved all the sex and the specks of romance too much to just cut it all off. She didn’t have much to do, she talked incomprehensibly and at length about her non-descript office job and minor intrigues that bored even herself, about her son and his problems (she started blabbing about his legal problems almost right away), and there was nothing else much to her life at that time. Thus, our sex has become a highlight. She giggled and played like a kitten, was very open to all sorts of experimentation, and gradually was increasingly shameless regarding her son. She’s convinced herself than being fifteen years older than me is completely unimportant to anyone, even though it was clearly very important to Kevin: he was absolutely not getting used to us “dating” – that is, fucking noisily every now and then in her bedroom.

Trying new things with Emma was easy and fun. Seducing her into all sorts of stuff took no work. What I had to work for was making Kevin aware of the things that we did without disgusting his mother too much, because, obviously, that was a part of the reason for me doing anything there at all. But this “good mother” did not make it too complex for me. Bit by bit it turned into a sort of a family in-joke – like, of course mommy and her newfound lover do it, and Kevin is obviously an adult and does understand. He sure did, and I tried not to let this understanding of Kevin’s turn into a habit for him like it did for his mom. I slapped her soft ass, grabbed her tits every now and then, held her and gave her deep kisses in front of him.

One a day, when the two of us were especially playful, Kevin came back from community college sooner than normal. We’ve been fooling around with a newly-bought dildo. When Emma heard the door open, she scrambled to get herself decent, but I didn’t allow her to take the rubber cock out of her pussy. She hastily threw on a skirt and a shirt, and I got her to pull on her panties. Kevin looked tired, and he sure wasn’t thrilled to see me there either.

He could obviously tell by his mother’s disheveled look what was going on on the couch just a moment ago. It had a clearly depressing effect on him, and Emma noticed that. She caringly asked what was wrong.

“The kid is just tired,” I said. “Let him be.”

Kevin shot me a glance.

“No, what’s wrong, baby?”

“I’m fine.”

“He is fine,” I said and wrapped my hands around her from behind. She looked back and smiled at me, I let her turn around and gave her a kiss. “Well, Kevin, mom still has something to take care of, so…”


“Mommy’s got a new toy, it’s a big black–“

“Shut up, Daniel! God!” She was lusty and furious, horny, shameful, wide-eyed and frowning.

“What, don’t believe me?” I said to Kevin, who was just standing there, a laptop case hanging from his arm. “I’m not lying, look.”

I pulled up her skirt and cupped her ass so that the rubber dick pushing out of her cunt and into her panties was properly visible. Emma broke free, gave me a slap on the shoulder and ran upstairs.

I looked at Kevin. Now he looked outright tragic. I could hear him breath. His fingers bend into knuckles. Was he going to fight me? No, he wasn’t, he just ran past me and hid in his room, while I followed his mother upstairs.

“Why did you do that?” she told me when I entered her room.

I wrapped Emma in my arms and gave her a kiss. She weakly defended herself. The soaked dildo was on the table, wrapped in an unevenly torn piece of paper towel.

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