Answer Jessica's phone
From Create Your Own Story
"Hello?"
"So, why didn't you show up?"
"Who the hell is this? How did you get my son's cell phone?" you growl, annoyed as hell.
"I'm the guy who beat the fuck out of your son and made you cum so hard yesterday. You saw me take the phone. Don't play stupid."
"Hey, you attacked me from behind. I didn't ask you touch me, much less make me cum...and I am certainly not coming to your house."
"Look, why don't you stop denying what you know we both want? You want me to hurt your son, you want me to fuck you, and you want to cheat on your husband...with me."
"Fuck you...get lost asshole."
-click-
You hang up. Breathing hard, you realize that you were getting turned on as you talked with the bully. Relieved, you are happy that you got off the phone when you did, or the results might have been quite different.
You go about cleaning the house, as you went ahead and took care of some grocery shopping and normal homemaker things, in order to mend your relationship with her son Brandon. It doesn't really do much toward that end, however, as you calm down and get lost in Jessica's thoughts about the bully again. It is nearly three o'clock when her the cell phone rings. Your hands are full with laundry and you activate the speaker phone.
"Hello."
"You change your mind yet? Why'd you hang up baby?" the bully asks smoothly, with not a hint of anger. His voice raises goose bumps on Jessica's arms and you admire his cool resolve. Although maybe he just lets his anger build up and then uses Brandon as a punching bag for it.
"What do you want and why do you keep calling? Do I have to hang up on you again?"
"You don't want to do that."
"Oh yeah? Why exactly not?" you demand.
"Because I will continue to push the speed dial numbers on this phone and eventually maybe I'll dial your husband's phone instead and then I will have to tell him how I got his wife off in an alley while she was screaming for me to beat the fuck out of her son."
"Why would you do that? What could you gain by that?" you ask.
"Me? I have nothing to gain or lose by it. You, though, stand to lose everything if you don't talk to me, but can gain oh so much just by having a conversation."
You have to admit that he has a point.
"Tell me one thing, if I am going to be talking to you. Why do you want me so badly?"
"Because you are singly, the hottest woman I have ever seen in my life."
"I find that hard to believe," you reply, half-annoyed, as you continue to fold clothes, wondering why you still hadn't hung up on him right then and the reminding yourself about the threat to call your husband.
"I guess it could also be that nothing would turn me on more than to steal a woman from her husband, while beating the shit out of her kid... and having her enjoy it all with me."
Your nipples perk up as you hear him utter his response.
"I am not leaving my husband and you do realize that I am not going to meet you," you smirk as you remind him.
"Not today, but you will, eventually."
"Whatever. So, what do I call you?"
"Huh?" he asked, genuinely confused, just figuring that the Brandon would have told her his name.
"Your name, I only know you as my son's bully right now," you open the door to a familiarity with the tormentor of Jessica's youngest child... the man you hung up on earlier.
"Richard."
"Mind if I call you Dick? It seems more fitting right now."
"Sure, I mean, whatever you want to call me is fine as long as you call me."
You snicker a little. He could be kind of charming, if a little corny.
"You know I'm still pissed that you have my son's phone -- the phone my husband and I pay the bill on."
"I took it just to fuck with him."
"That was actually pretty smart of you. He loves that phone."
"Yeah and now I have your phone number, so I can call you whenever," he claimed proudly.
"Not when my family's here, though. They would not understand me talking to you."
"Fuck them. I don't give a shit what they think." You can hear the scowl in Dick's voice and you feel a little aroused at his venom.
"You know, my son has a broken nose because of you."
"Really?" He sounds intrigued.
"When you beat him yesterday you broke his nose," you explain.
"That's awesome... and hilarious! But tell me, did it turn you on knowing that I broke his nose?"
"I'm not answering that question right now."
"Okay, fair enough. Can you answer a few other questions, though?" he asks.
"Go ahead," you reply, your interest piqued.
"You ever yell at your son... I mean, not in a mother-son way... but really berate and humiliate him?"
You think for a moment, chewing your lower lip, and then answer, figuring you could be honest with him; he isn't going to report you to any authorities.
"I told him yesterday to stop antagonizing you and that it was his fault he was being beat on."
"No shit?"
"No shit. I also told him to stop his sniveling, he was a wimp, and stop telling people that you are beating him up, because he is embarrassing me," you sigh.
"Wow. That was pretty awesome, you know."
"I don't necessarily believe that," you reply, feeling guilty, yet turned on.
"No, really, you are so fucking awesome for a guy like me, who understands where you are coming from... Have you ever physically hurt him?"
In for a penny, in for a pound you figure.
"Yesterday. I grabbed his broken nose and told him he better not dare tell his father anything."
"Did he scream?" Dick asks, hanging on the words.
"Yeah, pretty loud too -- God, I hope none of the neighbors heard."
"Did that turn you on?"
"Yeah, I sent him to his bedroom without dinner..."
"For what?" he interrupts.
"For being a pussy," you reply to quickly to catch yourself.
"OH MY GOD, that is sooooo funny." He laughs for about thirty seconds.
"Think I can finish?" you ask, a little perturbed by the interruption.
"Yeah, sorry, Jessica, go ahead," Dick chuckles.
"Anyway, after I sent him to his bedroom, I went to mine and masturbated."
"Did it feel good?" he asks.
"Yeah, best in a while actually."
"Better than with me?"
"I'm not answering that question right now."
"Okay then answer the other one," he demands.
"Which one?"
"Did the fact that I broke his nose get your motor running?"
"Oh, jeez, why do you want to know that?" you ask, knowing that it would come back up and dreading it.
"I just do, answer it because you won't answer the other."
"Yes, okay? In fact I thought about it when I fingered myself yesterday."
"Wish I could have seen that," the bully muses.
You stop folding clothes and lean over the kitchen counter, looking at the phone, listening to his breathing as you remain silent for a moment. You notice that you are staring at the picture of Brandon that popped onto the screen when the call came through.
"So, how did a lady like you end up giving birth to a piece of shit like your son?" he questions.
"I don't honestly know, I guess he got more of his father's gene's," you admit to him, absently, as you realize just how turned on Jessica had become just talking to him.
"Is your husband a pussy too?"
"Yeah, probably, but he's smart and makes a good deal of money."
"You love him?"
"Yes, of course! Why would I be married to him if I didn't love him," you honestly reply.
"You love your son?"
"I gave birth to him, so I should. That's a stupid question. I expected better out of you."
"But you get off on me beating him up?"
"Yeah... I'm not sure why," you admit to him. "Back in high school, I always dated guys like you. I liked it when they hurt people for me. It seems weird that it would still be a part of me and especially toward Brandon."
"Don't use his name when we talk. I can't stand that piece of shit," he spits.
You actually tingle at the hatred you feel through the phone. Quietly undoing your pants, you slither your right hand into your panties and began masturbating.
"What should I call him, then, piece of shit?" you say half-joking and half-hoping he would say yes.
"Yeah, or shit stain, I don't care, either."
"Oh fuck," slips out of your mouth as your heartbeat races upon hearing the answer. It is soooo wrong and it turns you on so much.
"You playing with yourself?"
"You should give him back his phone," you whisper out, trying to stay quiet while you frig your wet clam.
"Who?"
"My son."
"Who?"
You know what he wants and aren't ready to give it to him, yet --if ever. However, he is insistent.
"Who?"
You bite your lip and rub longer and harder, trying to exact and orgasm before he coerced your answer.
"Whose phone should I return? Hmmmmmm, Jessica Jones, wife of Vincent Jones and mother of the kid I..."
"Uhhhh," you moan.
"Kick..."
"Uhhhhh..."
"and..."
"Uhhhhhh..."
"Beat..."
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh..."
"the fuck..."
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."
"Out of every single day!"
"Oh, God, he's a fucking piece of shit! "Oh my God, nothing but a fucking piece of shit!" you scream as you cum for Richard, for -- what was now -- the second time.
Sweat rolls off of your body as you gasp and stare at the phone, shaking, juices oozing from your pussy.
"Take a picture of your cunt for me, quick, do it now, hurry!" he urges you. Still feeling the tremors everywhere, you grab the camera and stick it between your legs, snapping a picture and then sending it to the son's cell phone.
"Oh my God, that is so hot and nasty. What the fuck is that white stuff?"
"That's my flow. I can have visible cums, kind of like squirting, but it usually doesn't squirt," you answer back, still panting.
"Shit, that is so awesome. You ever cum for your husband like that?"
"No," you admit...not really caring right then if you give away a secret of Jessica's marriage. It somehow seems right to share it with him, considering everything else you've shared.
"Have you ever cum like that before?" He is inquisitive as hell but you chalk it up to his youth and relative inexperience with different women.
"Yes, when I was younger," you reply.
"When you were with bullies?"
You both get very quiet. He must want to hear the answer and a part of you does not wish to speak it. But you've had gone this far already, you reasoned.
"Yes, with bullies."
"You want me to give you a present?" Dick asks quietly.
"What kind of present?"
"The kind you used to ask guys like me for."
You think long and hard at this point. What the hell are you getting Jessica into?
"Yes or no?"
This is both contact bullying and the age difference. You understand that everyone involved is not legally adult and you may be technically corrupting a minor.
"Yes or no?"
You're sure sure it would be Brandon who would be hurt, but could you do it? The turn on would be immense.
"Yes or no?"
God, he isn't giving you time to think... to get your head on straight. You already let him get the advantage today; in fact, you participated fully, even though it was through the safety of the phone. He couldn't touch you physically.
"Yes or no, Jessica Jones?"
Imagine the power of the orgasm you would have after seeing the new damage to your son -- meant just for you.
"Yes! Do it!" you finally exclaim, letting the words burst forth before you could rethink them or take them back.
"I need you to do something first."
"What?"
"Take the phone to the piece of shit's bathroom, but don't do up your pants... and leave your cummy cunt alone, don't even wipe it yet."
Do you:
| You are possessing: |
|---|
| Young-Looking, Pretty Mother |
