Pedro was worried. His mother said she would be back soon, but it was almost dinner time and she still hadn't returned. He tried calling her on her cell phone, but it didn't answer, which made him even more nervous. Pedro waited a few more minutes until he got tired and decided to call his father, but when he was about to press the green button for the call, his mother opened the front door of the house. -Mom, why weren't you answering the phone? -Mamiii. Teresa enters her house, goes up the stairs, and locks herself in the bathroom, completely ignoring Pedro's question and little Jonás, who happily raised his hands to be lifted and carried by her. Her sons realized she was upset so they waited for her in the kitchen. She came down after 15 minutes wearing more comfortable clothes and behaving normally. -Who's hungry? -Yoooo. Says Jonás, happy as always. -Mom... then? -What's up, treasure? -What happened to Marcelo? Did you talk to his mother? Teresa takes a moment to respond. -Don't worry about it, treasure. You go to school calmly tomorrow and if that bastard bothers you again, I'll take care of him. Her enigmatic response didn't calm Pedro down at all, but he didn't insist anymore. What surprised him was the word his mother used to call Marcelo... bastard. He agreed with her about it being true, but never heard his mother speak like that about someone before. Teresa managed to finish preparing dinner just in time for her husband to arrive home, a simple meal that didn't require much time to prepare. Now with the four of them at the table, the conversation was directed towards Marcelo's black eye, which he had to explain to his father, Felipe, what happened. They already knew Marcelo used to mistreat him, but they didn't know it had escalated to violence that day. Pedro didn't tell his parents about all the beatings he received; Marcelo would hit him on the body and not in the face so he could hide the bruises more easily. The parents of Pedro There had been tried to resolve the problem through school by sending complaint letters, calling the director, making appointments to talk with him and the teachers, and even organizing a meeting with Marcelo's parents but obviously they didn't show up. Felipe was very angry knowing that a group of boys had assaulted his son but every time he received news about the bullying that increased in his son, he kept repeating the same speech. -Thieves! This is the limit. Tomorrow morning I'll go to school and give a speech to that young man. At that moment, Teresa, something scared, spoke up and explained it wasn't necessary because she had already gone to Marcelo's house to resolve the problem. She told them when she arrived, the bully received her, not his mother because he had received an urgent work call. -And what about the boy's father? Teresa continued with her story saying that the boy didn't know his father and the number that had been received from school was of his mother and stepfather who had left the house a few months ago. -What a disaster. With reason, the son is like this. Remember children, every decent home needs a father and a mother to raise their children responsibly, as God commands. If Marcelo behaves like that, it's because he lacks a good paternal figure that teaches discipline. No child should be abandoned by a father...or a mother. -But Felipe, that doesn't mean the boy is a victim of life now... -I know, I know Teresa. I'm not justifying his actions, I only say that every evil has an origin. The speech of her husband made sense and being a religious woman she knew forgiveness was very important. Teresa continued with her story saying yes, well the boy had shown himself to be impolite but she threatened him and he changed his attitude quickly until finally he accepted not hitting Pedro anymore. This put a bit more peace in his son who didn't understand why... He delayed all that time in returning and because when I returned she was so upset. Teresa's story wasn't entirely false, at least not all of it, only some parts had been omitted. The next day at school Pedro was more relaxed since Marcelo had said he wouldn't torment him anymore. When recess arrived, the young man left his class to meet Juan but as he passed through the corridors he realized there weren't many people around. He walked a bit further until he found himself in front of a group of people gathered in a semi-circle near the trophy case. In the middle of them, he recognized Juan's backpack and made room to talk to him. After saying his name, he found Marcelo ahead of him in the midst of everyone with their phones out taking pictures and filming. He was leaning against the trophy case with one hand and masturbating with the other in front of everyone, causing amazement among the boys and admiration from the girls. Pedro couldn't help but notice that Marcelo's member was enormous, probably double or even triple what he had between his legs. He couldn't believe the hard-on of that delinquent and especially how others didn't get scandalized like him who didn't call a responsible person to deal with the situation. -What's going on here? As if Pedro had called out with his thoughts, Professor Veronica's voice, the divorced one always in a bad mood, startled everyone who retreated like scared pigeons in the park. While returning to class, Pedro thought that Marcelo would finally be expelled. When leaving school he passed by the trophy case again and saw it was covered in a large amount of semen. The son of slut Marcelo hadn't stopped his madness even after the professor arrived, he thought. The worst part was that now he only realized the bastard was masturbating in front of a photo of the school's debate champion. He found himself inside the display case. The photo of his mother smiling when she was young, holding her trophy in her hands. -Filthy son of a slut. Upon returning home, Pedro continued to talk to Juan as always and told him that his mother had resolved the situation with Marcelo. Barely said that when someone kicked his foot from behind and made him stumble. That person wasn't Marcelo, but one of his gang. -What...what are you doing? The guy laughs at him while he gets up, and the rest of the group arrives, including Marcelo. -Why are you looking at me like that, faggot? -You...you...my mom said you promised... -Oh yeah, I did. I promised the slut of your mother that I wouldn't touch you and that's what I've done. I haven't touched you. Like a real devil, Marcello had found a way to respect his word and at the same time torment Pedro. The guy who knocked him down joined another and they kicked Pedro while he was still on the floor. Pedro's face didn't receive any damage but his body and pride did. -You see, use the word: pussy with glasses, this is what happens when you send others to solve your problems. -I'm sorry...me... -Don't worry about it. I appreciated your mom's visit yesterday and be sure that if you tell her something again, I'll appreciate it too...and if you send her back again, I'll give her a warm welcome with this. Marcelo said so, grabbing his package with one hand and squeezing it tightly, leaving his victim clear that he was going to make him pass through it. Pedro's fears became real. Sending her to talk to him wasn't a good idea. Now he knew he was as bad as he imagined and that if his mother came back home alone, something terrible could happen. While the gang retreated and Juan helped him get up, Pedro wondered why his mother said she had put Marcelo in his place if obviously it wasn't like that. That the bastard would have pretended to be intimidated by her? It was probably the most likely thing. WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT... Teresa was standing in front of Marcello's house door. The neighborhood where he lived wasn't... better, as one would normally imagine, with old houses, clearly neglected, a lawn with too tall grass and some scattered beer bottles all over the place; it didn't seem like I was even in the same city.
Teresa rings the doorbell once and then again, but no one opens it, so she starts knocking energetically. Marcelo doesn't take long to arrive, opens the door, and greets Pedro's mother with a smile on his face. -What an impatient one, haha. Come in, make yourself at home. Sorry about the doorbell, it's broken. Teresa was a bit uncomfortable because the boy didn't look like she had imagined. The young man standing before her was very tall, taller than her, her husband, and also their son, his dark skin contrasting with hers when he gave her his hand to greet him, and as if that wasn't enough, the boy received her without a shirt, showing off his athletic body, thin but at the same time muscular, with veins on his arms that she had always found very attractive. -Good afternoon, please call your mother, I don't think I'll be staying here for much longer. -As you like... MAAMA! ... What strange, he's not coming down. Maybe he fell asleep again. Go in and wait for me, now I'll wake him up. Reluctantly Teresa enters that humble house, which was a bit messy, dirty, and had an unpleasant smell in the air that she didn't like. The innocent mother lifts a bottle off the sofa with two fingers and sits down waiting for the boy. -Well... it seems he's not home. -What? But you told me... -I know I said so, but you have to understand that she is a very busy woman, her boss called urgently from work and she's always ready to work, so... -You lied to me. -No, I didn't lie. She told me to tell you to come, but then her boss called her back to ask her to come in and do some overtime hours. I told him you were arriving, she said she'd wait for you, but probably she left while I was in the bathroom. Obviously the boy was lying and Teresa knew it, but she didn't want to give up yet since she had told her son she would resolve the situation. She believed Marcelo didn't want her to talk to his mother to avoid problems, so she said: -I understand. Then I'll wait here. -Of course. Do you want something to drink? -No, thank you. Lift, go to the kitchen and come back with two open beer bottles. -Take it. -I said I didn't want anything. -Yes, but I know that when women say they don't want something, it's actually yes, just to make themselves convinced. Her words made her uncomfortable, making her think maybe it was a bad idea going there alone but thinking about her son gave her the courage to stay. -You know, your son never told me he had a mother as beautiful as you. -Don't talk like that. -Like what? -... Like that. -Haha... don't get too shy, I'm sure your husband fills you with flattery every day, right? -Yes... but he's my husband. Teresa lied, her husband hadn't been paying attention to her for a long time but that bully didn't need to know it. She realized Marcelo was talking to her in a different way than on the phone and wasn't sure if one way was better than the other. The silence between the two was misinterpreted by Marcelo and he approached her, trying to kiss her. -What the hell are you doing? -What do you think? -No, this is enough. I'll come back tomorrow to talk to your mom. Offended, Teresa gets up from the sofa and heads for the door. -So you can have fun with my son while I'm gone? -What... did you say? -Maybe you're a deaf slut? I don't like repeating myself. The sudden change in Marcelo's attitude scared her a bit but the clear threat to her beloved Pedrito couldn't be ignored, so she decided to show her more aggressive side. -Filthy delinquent, never dare touch my son again, do you understand? Don't talk to him, don't look at him and if I find out you're bothering him in any way, I'll call the police and... Marcelo, with a slap, makes her shut up. -Good things don't work with you so I'll use bad ones. At that moment, without underwear, he takes his enormous flaccid cock from his white shorts, occupying most of his hand and showing it off proudly to Pedro's mother. Teresa, frozen in shock by the impact of the slap, didn't say a word when her eyes landed on his penis monstrous boy. -Listen to me well, slut. I don't know who you think you are but if you think you can enter my house with your fancy slut clothes, sit on my sofa, look at me up and down and disrespect me like that, you're wrong. Marcelo starts masturbating in front of her as the grandeur of his trunk increases slowly. Teresa had no idea what was happening, her brain stopped functioning properly. She was standing with her back to the door, scared and confused about how the situation escalated so quickly and unexpectedly because of what the young man had in his hand. With every movement of his, a small sensation, a stimulus, a spark ignited inside of her; something she had never experienced before and couldn't identify. -Do you like it?... -All women like it and can't take their eyes off you. Teresa's mouth began to salivate. Marcelo takes out his phone with one hand and shows her a photo of his house from the outside. -You live here, don't you?... What?... No, I don't... -Don't lie, I know you live in that little cottage, since I told you to come here I sent my friend to keep an eye on the house. If you don't do what I say, if you try to leave without my permission, I'll make a call and my buddy will come and beat up your son. The cruel words of Marcelo brought her to the terrible reality of her situation. That delinquent who bullied his son turned out to be more than just a common bad boy. That guy turned out to be a monstrous and ruthless one. -DO YOU UNDERSTAND? Marcelo grabs her throat with the hand he was using to touch himself and slams into the door. -YES, YES, I understand. Teresa couldn't help but notice how big the boy's hand was that almost completely closed around her pale neck.
Marcelo lets her go free and with the same hand grabs the little girl's hand that was already small but next to the boy's seemed minuscule and brings it close to his member. She, who had understood what he wanted, brings it even closer to the almost completely erect member now and touches it delicately and fearfully as if it could bite her. -Yes, without fear, beautiful. Teresa's touches become more secure and in no time she has him completely in her hand, unable to close it, and is touching him inexpertly as if trying to massage him. -Slut...Don't tell me you've never done this? -I...no, never. -What the hell... weren't you married? -Yes. -And you have a son like that so you're not a virgin but how do you not know how to do the most basic things? -My husband...he respects me. -Haha...Respects? I say he's a faggot, Haha...I can't believe it, a cutie at home and hasn't taught you anything. -... -Well, then let's remedy this. Marcelo's cock was already completely erect in its maximum power for Teresa's admiration who couldn't stop comparing it to her husband's in her mind. Her beloved Felipe's was simple, pink, softer, much smaller, and with a little skin covering the tip. Marcelo's on the other hand... seemed from another world: Enormous, three times Felipe's size, black, fat, covered in veins, and with a large and wet glans. The bastard grabbed her wrist and with his hand still over his member directed her to the sofa where he sat beside her. The massage of his cock continued for a few minutes under Marcelo's instructions until it became a manual job like it should be. Teresa wasn't thinking about what she was doing, the only thing that concerned her was doing what the boy was telling her without saying a word. Every woman in this situation would have been crying but not Teresa, not with that cock in her hand, not with saliva accumulating in her mouth. Teresa was like under a spell provoked by Marcelo's trunk, a spell that was growing more and more in his lower belly and slowly taking over his entire body. It had already been almost an hour since Pedro's mother's training session had begun and her abuser didn't seem to be anywhere near finishing what made Teresa remember all the times her husband slept with her, which only lasted a maximum of 10 minutes. -Let's make it more fun. Marcelo quickly opens Teresa's shirt, causing the buttons to jump off. At that moment, her precious breasts come out, still covered by her bra. They already seemed large under her clothes, but now they appeared to have grown even larger.
Oh my God! Exclaimed Teresa. The gazes of the two crossed, allowing her to read Marcelo's mind. Teresa proceeded to remove her bra with a little embarrassment but no resistance. The view of Pedro's mother's tits was magnificent. Although she was already 38 years old, her breasts didn't seem to feel time or gravity, showing off in all their splendor with hard nipples. When Marcelo saw that, he pleased himself and launched into sucking them, causing Teresa to let out a moan.
The two continued like that for a few minutes, him sucking her nipples and she masturbating him as if it were natural now. Her own body was betraying her, her hand moved from pure instinct and her mouth didn't stop declaring her pleasure nourishing the ego of her son's tormentor. -I like you this way, slut. Said that Marcelo grabs her jaw and brings her close to him to pass her. Teresa, already lost in the heat of the moment, closed her eyes and reciprocated the kiss abandoning her morals for a few seconds.
At that moment his cell phone rang. The memory of her two sons waiting for him at home was like a bucket of cold water to her and brought her back to reality, pushing the boy behind her and putting her hand over his mouth in shock at her own actions, indicating that she had just realized what she had done. He grabbed her bag and put the cell phone away silently. Marcelo didn't seem annoyed by this gesture but stopped and stood in front of her with his enormous cock a few centimeters above her head. The sight of that big trunk over her covered part of the light from the lamp, casting a shadow on her face. Teresa felt small, diminutive, powerless, completely submissive to the will of that man who towered over her like a tyrant she couldn't escape.
Put it in your mouth. Marcelo says with an authoritative tone, provoking her to open her mouth and letting out a string of saliva from the left side. Teresa doesn't obey and remains motionless despite the order. She knew what was about to happen, the choice she had to make could change her life forever. Marcelo grabs his cell phone and shows her the screen where Ron's name appears while his finger is hovering over the green call symbol. That reminded him of the situation he was in and that he didn't have a choice if he wanted his son to be safe. In some way, that gave him a bit of relief thinking that his actions were for the good of his son, that she wasn't responsible or guilty of what was about to happen. Teresa opens her mouth wider and starts to savor the tip. She had never felt a taste like this before, it was strong and bitter like the smell coming from the boy's member but it didn't bother her as much. This fellatio was like he imagined it, dirty, perverted and humiliating but somehow, in that moment, in that situation, she felt those sensations with a different mood that changed the way she received those feelings. Slowly, without receiving orders, she started to put it deeper into her mouth, filling it with no little effort.
Nothing of teeth! Teresa obeyed and improved her technique, which now Marcelo approved with his groan. -Very well, you learn quickly. She liked hearing those words. Feeling the approval of that man was something pleasant, it made her feel appreciated. Her mouth was already full of Marcelo's cock and still lacked many centimeters. Saliva flowed in large quantities because there was no longer space in her mouth. With his hand, the dominant one pushed her head further towards him, provoking in her the desire to vomit. Teresa put her hands on Marcelo's legs to hold herself and resist the will of her abuser, which he didn't like. -Don't make me angry, slut. You know what happens if you don't. With great effort she tried not to vomit. Her eyes were tearful, ruining the makeup and filling the room with the sounds of her effort. -Gloc...gloc...gloc. Marcelo knew Teresa had no experience but was just as pleased with her performance. Finally, he managed to advance a few more feelings inside her and conscious that he had reached her limit, he let go, causing the woman to take a desperate breath through her mouth followed by a little cough. Her makeup was no longer called such, her hair was slightly disheveled, her face flushed from effort, and her chin, neck, and breasts moistened by her saliva. Marcelo began to masturbate vigorously in front of her at his order, she opened her mouth where the first load of semen arrived, staining also her left cheek.
After two more loads on their sweaty and salivated breasts.
Teresa immediately spits the load in her mouth onto her hands, staining her skirt and floor slightly. -Very bad slut, very bad. Now I want you to pass it over your face and body like cream. Teresa's humiliation continued and she no longer even tried to protest. She passed her hands over her face, forehead, and chin, joining what was already there. She knew he wouldn't have been satisfied and looking at him with a gaze of rage and exhaustion, she passes her fingers over his neck and finally over his chest, illuminating it with that disgusting liquid. Click. Teresa heard the sound of Marcelo's cell phone taking a photo of her in that compromising situation. -No! Not now, please, no photos. Marcelo ignores her, saying. -You came very well, foxy. You're photogenic. Marcel sits down beside her without putting on his shorts and takes the beer that was left, offering it to Teresa again who grabs it and drinks it in one gulp. She wanted the beer to wash away the act she had just committed from her mind, wanted her shame to be alleviated by a little bit. She didn't like drinking. -Can I use the bathroom? Marcel points behind him with his hand still holding the bottle. He sees her walking behind him, admiring also her spectacular ass in the skirt and says in a low voice. -Next time. In the bathroom, Teresa cleans everything she can with water, reviving in her head what had happened that afternoon. -It's for your son, it's for Pedrito, you're doing this... Piensa ella. She convinces herself that everything that happened was a sacrifice she made and that never, in other circumstances, would have happened but at the same time she tried to find an excuse or explanation for those sensations she had felt and the moans she had let escape. When she came out, she wanted to leave quickly without saying anything but Marcel calls her first before opening the door. -Aren't you forgetting something? In his hands he had her purse and cell phone. Teresa has no choice but to approach him and take her things and once there Find the courage to ask for what you want. -Leave...You'll leave my son in peace?...please? -Hahaha...I promise I won't touch him. She leaves the house with a miserable victory and the feeling of having lost something more of her dignity; she had lost a part of herself. The worst of all that was that Teresa didn't feel destroyed, with her spirit torn apart like one would expect. She knew it herself. She felt rage, frustration, and fear...but nothing terrible, nothing that would push her to cry desperately. -Maybe I'm stronger than I thought. She told herself. On the way home, in her car, she thought about what had happened and especially about Marcelo. She could no longer think of him as a boy. He was a young man, a bad man who now had power over her because of that photo. It had been too long since he left her house and a moment before leaving, she adjusted herself as much as possible. First, she cleaned up, then with a small bottle of water, she splashed her face and neck, drying off with some handkerchiefs she had in her bag. As a final touch, she reapplied makeup so no one would suspect. She entered the house without paying attention to her children and locked herself in her bathroom to give herself a quick shower. While the water poured over her, she planned what to say and what not to say but especially what to do. It was already too late to call the police because that bastard would have spread that photo if she did; it wasn't necessary for him to tell her. The only thing she could do was pretend and try to forget. That night she had lost against Marcelo but at least she had won by saving her son. During dinner, she tried to maintain her composure and recount part of the truth. At bedtime, her husband hugged her from behind as he always did, but this time she felt a sense of repulsion because of what had happened. If only her husband and family knew what had happened. Continues...
Teresa rings the doorbell once and then again, but no one opens it, so she starts knocking energetically. Marcelo doesn't take long to arrive, opens the door, and greets Pedro's mother with a smile on his face. -What an impatient one, haha. Come in, make yourself at home. Sorry about the doorbell, it's broken. Teresa was a bit uncomfortable because the boy didn't look like she had imagined. The young man standing before her was very tall, taller than her, her husband, and also their son, his dark skin contrasting with hers when he gave her his hand to greet him, and as if that wasn't enough, the boy received her without a shirt, showing off his athletic body, thin but at the same time muscular, with veins on his arms that she had always found very attractive. -Good afternoon, please call your mother, I don't think I'll be staying here for much longer. -As you like... MAAMA! ... What strange, he's not coming down. Maybe he fell asleep again. Go in and wait for me, now I'll wake him up. Reluctantly Teresa enters that humble house, which was a bit messy, dirty, and had an unpleasant smell in the air that she didn't like. The innocent mother lifts a bottle off the sofa with two fingers and sits down waiting for the boy. -Well... it seems he's not home. -What? But you told me... -I know I said so, but you have to understand that she is a very busy woman, her boss called urgently from work and she's always ready to work, so... -You lied to me. -No, I didn't lie. She told me to tell you to come, but then her boss called her back to ask her to come in and do some overtime hours. I told him you were arriving, she said she'd wait for you, but probably she left while I was in the bathroom. Obviously the boy was lying and Teresa knew it, but she didn't want to give up yet since she had told her son she would resolve the situation. She believed Marcelo didn't want her to talk to his mother to avoid problems, so she said: -I understand. Then I'll wait here. -Of course. Do you want something to drink? -No, thank you. Lift, go to the kitchen and come back with two open beer bottles. -Take it. -I said I didn't want anything. -Yes, but I know that when women say they don't want something, it's actually yes, just to make themselves convinced. Her words made her uncomfortable, making her think maybe it was a bad idea going there alone but thinking about her son gave her the courage to stay. -You know, your son never told me he had a mother as beautiful as you. -Don't talk like that. -Like what? -... Like that. -Haha... don't get too shy, I'm sure your husband fills you with flattery every day, right? -Yes... but he's my husband. Teresa lied, her husband hadn't been paying attention to her for a long time but that bully didn't need to know it. She realized Marcelo was talking to her in a different way than on the phone and wasn't sure if one way was better than the other. The silence between the two was misinterpreted by Marcelo and he approached her, trying to kiss her. -What the hell are you doing? -What do you think? -No, this is enough. I'll come back tomorrow to talk to your mom. Offended, Teresa gets up from the sofa and heads for the door. -So you can have fun with my son while I'm gone? -What... did you say? -Maybe you're a deaf slut? I don't like repeating myself. The sudden change in Marcelo's attitude scared her a bit but the clear threat to her beloved Pedrito couldn't be ignored, so she decided to show her more aggressive side. -Filthy delinquent, never dare touch my son again, do you understand? Don't talk to him, don't look at him and if I find out you're bothering him in any way, I'll call the police and... Marcelo, with a slap, makes her shut up. -Good things don't work with you so I'll use bad ones. At that moment, without underwear, he takes his enormous flaccid cock from his white shorts, occupying most of his hand and showing it off proudly to Pedro's mother. Teresa, frozen in shock by the impact of the slap, didn't say a word when her eyes landed on his penis monstrous boy. -Listen to me well, slut. I don't know who you think you are but if you think you can enter my house with your fancy slut clothes, sit on my sofa, look at me up and down and disrespect me like that, you're wrong. Marcelo starts masturbating in front of her as the grandeur of his trunk increases slowly. Teresa had no idea what was happening, her brain stopped functioning properly. She was standing with her back to the door, scared and confused about how the situation escalated so quickly and unexpectedly because of what the young man had in his hand. With every movement of his, a small sensation, a stimulus, a spark ignited inside of her; something she had never experienced before and couldn't identify. -Do you like it?... -All women like it and can't take their eyes off you. Teresa's mouth began to salivate. Marcelo takes out his phone with one hand and shows her a photo of his house from the outside. -You live here, don't you?... What?... No, I don't... -Don't lie, I know you live in that little cottage, since I told you to come here I sent my friend to keep an eye on the house. If you don't do what I say, if you try to leave without my permission, I'll make a call and my buddy will come and beat up your son. The cruel words of Marcelo brought her to the terrible reality of her situation. That delinquent who bullied his son turned out to be more than just a common bad boy. That guy turned out to be a monstrous and ruthless one. -DO YOU UNDERSTAND? Marcelo grabs her throat with the hand he was using to touch himself and slams into the door. -YES, YES, I understand. Teresa couldn't help but notice how big the boy's hand was that almost completely closed around her pale neck.Marcelo lets her go free and with the same hand grabs the little girl's hand that was already small but next to the boy's seemed minuscule and brings it close to his member. She, who had understood what he wanted, brings it even closer to the almost completely erect member now and touches it delicately and fearfully as if it could bite her. -Yes, without fear, beautiful. Teresa's touches become more secure and in no time she has him completely in her hand, unable to close it, and is touching him inexpertly as if trying to massage him. -Slut...Don't tell me you've never done this? -I...no, never. -What the hell... weren't you married? -Yes. -And you have a son like that so you're not a virgin but how do you not know how to do the most basic things? -My husband...he respects me. -Haha...Respects? I say he's a faggot, Haha...I can't believe it, a cutie at home and hasn't taught you anything. -... -Well, then let's remedy this. Marcelo's cock was already completely erect in its maximum power for Teresa's admiration who couldn't stop comparing it to her husband's in her mind. Her beloved Felipe's was simple, pink, softer, much smaller, and with a little skin covering the tip. Marcelo's on the other hand... seemed from another world: Enormous, three times Felipe's size, black, fat, covered in veins, and with a large and wet glans. The bastard grabbed her wrist and with his hand still over his member directed her to the sofa where he sat beside her. The massage of his cock continued for a few minutes under Marcelo's instructions until it became a manual job like it should be. Teresa wasn't thinking about what she was doing, the only thing that concerned her was doing what the boy was telling her without saying a word. Every woman in this situation would have been crying but not Teresa, not with that cock in her hand, not with saliva accumulating in her mouth. Teresa was like under a spell provoked by Marcelo's trunk, a spell that was growing more and more in his lower belly and slowly taking over his entire body. It had already been almost an hour since Pedro's mother's training session had begun and her abuser didn't seem to be anywhere near finishing what made Teresa remember all the times her husband slept with her, which only lasted a maximum of 10 minutes. -Let's make it more fun. Marcelo quickly opens Teresa's shirt, causing the buttons to jump off. At that moment, her precious breasts come out, still covered by her bra. They already seemed large under her clothes, but now they appeared to have grown even larger.Oh my God! Exclaimed Teresa. The gazes of the two crossed, allowing her to read Marcelo's mind. Teresa proceeded to remove her bra with a little embarrassment but no resistance. The view of Pedro's mother's tits was magnificent. Although she was already 38 years old, her breasts didn't seem to feel time or gravity, showing off in all their splendor with hard nipples. When Marcelo saw that, he pleased himself and launched into sucking them, causing Teresa to let out a moan.The two continued like that for a few minutes, him sucking her nipples and she masturbating him as if it were natural now. Her own body was betraying her, her hand moved from pure instinct and her mouth didn't stop declaring her pleasure nourishing the ego of her son's tormentor. -I like you this way, slut. Said that Marcelo grabs her jaw and brings her close to him to pass her. Teresa, already lost in the heat of the moment, closed her eyes and reciprocated the kiss abandoning her morals for a few seconds.At that moment his cell phone rang. The memory of her two sons waiting for him at home was like a bucket of cold water to her and brought her back to reality, pushing the boy behind her and putting her hand over his mouth in shock at her own actions, indicating that she had just realized what she had done. He grabbed her bag and put the cell phone away silently. Marcelo didn't seem annoyed by this gesture but stopped and stood in front of her with his enormous cock a few centimeters above her head. The sight of that big trunk over her covered part of the light from the lamp, casting a shadow on her face. Teresa felt small, diminutive, powerless, completely submissive to the will of that man who towered over her like a tyrant she couldn't escape.Put it in your mouth. Marcelo says with an authoritative tone, provoking her to open her mouth and letting out a string of saliva from the left side. Teresa doesn't obey and remains motionless despite the order. She knew what was about to happen, the choice she had to make could change her life forever. Marcelo grabs his cell phone and shows her the screen where Ron's name appears while his finger is hovering over the green call symbol. That reminded him of the situation he was in and that he didn't have a choice if he wanted his son to be safe. In some way, that gave him a bit of relief thinking that his actions were for the good of his son, that she wasn't responsible or guilty of what was about to happen. Teresa opens her mouth wider and starts to savor the tip. She had never felt a taste like this before, it was strong and bitter like the smell coming from the boy's member but it didn't bother her as much. This fellatio was like he imagined it, dirty, perverted and humiliating but somehow, in that moment, in that situation, she felt those sensations with a different mood that changed the way she received those feelings. Slowly, without receiving orders, she started to put it deeper into her mouth, filling it with no little effort.Nothing of teeth! Teresa obeyed and improved her technique, which now Marcelo approved with his groan. -Very well, you learn quickly. She liked hearing those words. Feeling the approval of that man was something pleasant, it made her feel appreciated. Her mouth was already full of Marcelo's cock and still lacked many centimeters. Saliva flowed in large quantities because there was no longer space in her mouth. With his hand, the dominant one pushed her head further towards him, provoking in her the desire to vomit. Teresa put her hands on Marcelo's legs to hold herself and resist the will of her abuser, which he didn't like. -Don't make me angry, slut. You know what happens if you don't. With great effort she tried not to vomit. Her eyes were tearful, ruining the makeup and filling the room with the sounds of her effort. -Gloc...gloc...gloc. Marcelo knew Teresa had no experience but was just as pleased with her performance. Finally, he managed to advance a few more feelings inside her and conscious that he had reached her limit, he let go, causing the woman to take a desperate breath through her mouth followed by a little cough. Her makeup was no longer called such, her hair was slightly disheveled, her face flushed from effort, and her chin, neck, and breasts moistened by her saliva. Marcelo began to masturbate vigorously in front of her at his order, she opened her mouth where the first load of semen arrived, staining also her left cheek.After two more loads on their sweaty and salivated breasts.Teresa immediately spits the load in her mouth onto her hands, staining her skirt and floor slightly. -Very bad slut, very bad. Now I want you to pass it over your face and body like cream. Teresa's humiliation continued and she no longer even tried to protest. She passed her hands over her face, forehead, and chin, joining what was already there. She knew he wouldn't have been satisfied and looking at him with a gaze of rage and exhaustion, she passes her fingers over his neck and finally over his chest, illuminating it with that disgusting liquid. Click. Teresa heard the sound of Marcelo's cell phone taking a photo of her in that compromising situation. -No! Not now, please, no photos. Marcelo ignores her, saying. -You came very well, foxy. You're photogenic. Marcel sits down beside her without putting on his shorts and takes the beer that was left, offering it to Teresa again who grabs it and drinks it in one gulp. She wanted the beer to wash away the act she had just committed from her mind, wanted her shame to be alleviated by a little bit. She didn't like drinking. -Can I use the bathroom? Marcel points behind him with his hand still holding the bottle. He sees her walking behind him, admiring also her spectacular ass in the skirt and says in a low voice. -Next time. In the bathroom, Teresa cleans everything she can with water, reviving in her head what had happened that afternoon. -It's for your son, it's for Pedrito, you're doing this... Piensa ella. She convinces herself that everything that happened was a sacrifice she made and that never, in other circumstances, would have happened but at the same time she tried to find an excuse or explanation for those sensations she had felt and the moans she had let escape. When she came out, she wanted to leave quickly without saying anything but Marcel calls her first before opening the door. -Aren't you forgetting something? In his hands he had her purse and cell phone. Teresa has no choice but to approach him and take her things and once there Find the courage to ask for what you want. -Leave...You'll leave my son in peace?...please? -Hahaha...I promise I won't touch him. She leaves the house with a miserable victory and the feeling of having lost something more of her dignity; she had lost a part of herself. The worst of all that was that Teresa didn't feel destroyed, with her spirit torn apart like one would expect. She knew it herself. She felt rage, frustration, and fear...but nothing terrible, nothing that would push her to cry desperately. -Maybe I'm stronger than I thought. She told herself. On the way home, in her car, she thought about what had happened and especially about Marcelo. She could no longer think of him as a boy. He was a young man, a bad man who now had power over her because of that photo. It had been too long since he left her house and a moment before leaving, she adjusted herself as much as possible. First, she cleaned up, then with a small bottle of water, she splashed her face and neck, drying off with some handkerchiefs she had in her bag. As a final touch, she reapplied makeup so no one would suspect. She entered the house without paying attention to her children and locked herself in her bathroom to give herself a quick shower. While the water poured over her, she planned what to say and what not to say but especially what to do. It was already too late to call the police because that bastard would have spread that photo if she did; it wasn't necessary for him to tell her. The only thing she could do was pretend and try to forget. That night she had lost against Marcelo but at least she had won by saving her son. During dinner, she tried to maintain her composure and recount part of the truth. At bedtime, her husband hugged her from behind as he always did, but this time she felt a sense of repulsion because of what had happened. If only her husband and family knew what had happened. Continues...
8 comentários - Pedro's Mother and Bully 2
Espero la 3a parte saludos
Van mis 10