Oops, I Banged My Bully's Mom - Chapter 19

The day felt like a dream. I could hardly believe what had happened. I had pretty much blackmailed my Spanish teacher, and some part of her seemed to like it. She wouldn’t have given in so easily if she didn’t. I had gotten to feel up her enormous chest with promise of more tonight. I even got an excuse to leave football practice. I was still sore from yesterday, so I was completely okay with that.

“Give me your phone.”

I blinked, for a second afraid a teacher was getting angry at me for something. That was when I remembered I hadn’t even been using my phone, and even if I had, this was study hall, and it usually wasn’t a big deal. When I looked up, I realized it was Stephanie who was glaring at me.

“Huh, what?”

“Since you have a phone and are coming to my house tomorrow, we should exchange numbers,” she declared.

I looked down, realizing I had left my phone on the table in front of me. I had been in a daze since morning, and had no chance to check it . I quickly grabbed it and gave her my number. She pursed her lips. It seemed like she had wanted to browse through it, but how could I allow that? I already had a teacher see what messages I was sending, I couldn’t afford for her to see too.

When I went to add a new contact, I was taken off guard to see that another number had been added. The only name given was piousmommy. It didn’t take much to realize that this number must have been left by Mrs. Anderson when she took my clothing. She must have seen the other name and chosen to replicate it. I didn’t get to focus on it too long because that’s when I noticed another name caught my eye.

Hotmomma had left me nearly 70 messages since yesterday. I was confused until I remembered that the last time we had spoken, she had asked me for a dick pic. She had just shown me images of her chest, and I had then accidentally sent the image to othermother. I had lost my phone, and then went straight from school to church, and then from church to bed. In other words, after trying to flirt with me, I had ghosted Mrs. Parker for nearly two days.

I quickly finished putting in Stephanie’s number, but then she spoke before I could save it. “Don’t call that number!”

“Huh? Why?”

She blushed slightly. “It’s not my number. It’s my mom’s number.”

I blinked. “Then why are you giving it to me?”

“Mom doesn’t let me do social stuff, it sucks.” She looked at me challengingly. “That’s the only way to contact me though, so you better keep that number. Got it?”

“Okay…” I didn’t get it, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue with her.

I hesitated for a moment before checking the contact name again and changed it. I originally had Stephanie, but then it occurred to me that all my other numbers were questionable. If someone asked questions about hotmomma or othermother, how would I even be able to answer? Names like Stephanie would only make these weird names stand out. After a few moments of thinking, I changed it to badmom. It’d remind me not to message her.

When I was done, I finally opened up the lingering messages from hotmomma.

Hotmomma: Are you chicken?

Hotmomma: …

Hotmomma: Honey, you don’t have to send it if you don’t want.

Hotmomma: I was just teasing.

Hotmomma: I didn’t mean it.

Hotmomma: Are you okay?

Hotmomma: Oh, my God, don’t show that image to anyone!

Hotmomma: Please, I didn’t mean to creep you out!

The longer the texts went, the more unhinged they came. I felt really bad for ignoring her for so long. I wasn’t used to having a phone, so it wasn’t my instinct to check it unless I specifically needed something, had Stephanie not bought up my phone, I might have gone the rest of the day without checking. After thinking about it a bit, I wrote a reply.

Lucas: I’ve been busy. I’m sorry, I didn’t see your messages until now.

I nearly dropped my phone when it buzzed only a few seconds later.

Hotmomma: Really?

I couldn’t help but wear an odd smile. It was kind of cute how she was acting. I had to remind myself that this was Steve’s mother, but didn’t she seem just as worried and insecure as me? I used to think when you grew up, you became privy to some kind of knowledge that matured you. After everything I experienced the last week, I was starting to realize that adults were just as clueless as us, they were just better at faking it.

Lucas: Really, I did take a picture of my dick, but I had to delete it before I got caught.

Hotmomma: OMG! No one saw that picture of me, right? That’s just between you and me… you deleted it, right?

I couldn’t help but smirk as I typed.

Lucas: No way, I’m keeping that image as my wallpaper.

Hotmomma: You meanie! You better not! I hid my face, but it’s still way too embarrassing. You wouldn’t do that, would you?

As much fun as it was, class was going to let out soon and I didn’t want to leave her hanging again so I decided to stop teasing her.

Lucas: No way, those tits are for me only.

After writing that, I squeezed my hand a few times, reflecting on the feeling of Mrs. Parker’s tits compared to Ms. Gonzalez. The latter’s were undoubtedly bigger, but there was a certain charm to the smaller thing too. Mrs. Parker was still decently sized. I felt like hers were firmer and had more mass to them, while you could melt in Gonzalez’s enormous tits.

Hotmomma: Good.

Hotmomma: But, since you didn’t send me a picture, you’re going to have to take responsibility.

I hesitated for a second and then typed my response.

Lucas: What do you mean?

Hotmomma: I want to see it in person. I can’t stop thinking about it.

Lucas: I’m pretty busy.

Hotmomma: Steve is going to be gone. He’s spending time with his dad. He is picking him up right after school. If you come here, I’ll make it worth your while.

I hesitated.

Lucas: How so?

Hotmomma: Do I have to say it?

Hotmomma: I’ll give you everything.

My body couldn’t help but shake as the bell rang. Did she mean everything? That was a lofty promise, and frankly, the mind of a young teenage boy could go pretty far. Feeling a bit of panic and not wanting her to become worried again, I quickly agreed.

Lucas: I’ll come after school.

My brain was reeling, but I was full of thoughts about what everything with Mrs. Parker meant. We had already played around multiple times. There was only one more step we could take. Compared to Ms. Gonzalez, this was a surer thing, and so I quickly put aside that. It was a threat of blackmail and frankly, I was still a bit nervous about it. However, when it came to Mrs. Parker, I was filled with excitement.

The rest of the day moved excruciatingly slow. I was so focused on imagining all the things Mrs. Parker and I would do that I paid little attention in my other classes. Ms. Barnett called me out, but when I glanced her way, she blushed and looked away, and didn’t seem to bother me the rest of the period. Soon, I was free, and I took off. For the first time, I was almost running to get out of the school first. The sooner I got to Mrs. Parker, the sooner we could resume what we started.

“No running!” I heard a voice and instinctively slowed down before my eyes met Mrs. Smith.

As soon as I saw her, I was reminded of Ms. Gonzalez’s messages. I felt bad for Mrs. Smith. She was pregnant and her husband was cheating on her. Furthermore, she was even trying to keep his interest, but that pervy guy still went after a pornstar too.

She shifted uncomfortably under my intense gaze. “What is it, Lucas?”

“If you were my woman, I would make sure you were always happy.”

Mrs. Smith stiffened, her eyes darted around. Few students had even made it out of the rooms yet, so no one was close enough to hear. Her cheeks grew pink, but she glared at me.

“Watch what you say in public, Mr. Meijer,” she hissed.

I smiled. “In that case, I’ll keep those words private.”

I winked at her and then walked by. She spun, but she didn’t seem to be able to come up with the words to stop me. I was in too good of a mood to be brought down anyway. I was virtually whistling as I cleared the school. I was one of the first people out the doors. I couldn’t help but glance toward the field, worried that the coach was there. However, when I didn’t see him out, I let out a sigh of relief and then started down the road toward Steve’s house.

“Well, look who it is…”

“Fuck! It’s Thursday,” I muttered under my breath.

I had been so excited to get with Mrs. Parker, that it had completely slipped my mind. The walk home went by a certain street, and that certain street happened to be controlled by a certain group of delinquents. These were the kids who skipped school, the super graduates who had already failed out. From the little I had heard, they had state-mandated classes that went toward them earning their GEDs. There wasn’t a single one of them who didn’t have a record and time in juvey. For whatever reason, those classes kept them away on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they were free to roam.

These guys were seventeen and up and seemed to have a great dislike for those who were still going to school. Everyone in high school knew you didn’t walk by this street on Tuesdays and Thursdays, or you’d be lucky if you only lost every cent you had. It hadn’t been a problem for me because I had been getting rides and staying later for football, but since I skipped and headed straight home, I ran right into the Darlington Street Gang. A half dozen guys between seventeen and twenty-one surrounded me. One of them had a cigarette in his mouth, and they all had various tattoos on their body. I held up my hands, still hopeful I could get past this.

“Guys, I don’t have money,” I told them. “I’m poor.”

I was hoping to appeal to their humanity. The one I took as the leader, a dark-skinned guy with a mustache and a beanie stepped forward.

“That’s unfortunate kid, unfortunate,” he said, his face expressionless.

I tried to run. I only made it a few steps before I got hit. I collapsed to the ground, and the next few minutes could only be defined as an ass-whooping. They tore open my backpack and then ripped apart everything inside. I was kicked and punched, but this wasn’t the first time they had caught me. It was almost custom that the upperclassmen never told the lower class about the Darlington Street Gang, so everyone had a story about them. Most were lucky to not stumble on their turf, and their stories were more about being threatened in a convenience store or such, but Steve and I both just happened to be downwind of them, and my thoughtlessness caused it.

When they were done, I tried to grab what was left intact from my book bag. The books were destroyed. I’d need to pay for new ones. I was sure my stepdad would blame me for that. My shoes were gone too, and my shirt was ripped in several places. Wiping my bloody nose, I limped away. I was mostly in a daze. My previous excitement was gone and I was moving on autopilot. When I stopped in front of Mrs. Parker’s door and rang the doorbell, my mind was plain blank.

Mrs. Parker answered, and I was shocked to see her wearing a long, slim dress. Her hair was done up, and she was wearing makeup. She looked stunning. However, as soon as she saw me, she let out a gasp.

“What happened?” She cried out, grabbing me and gently bringing me into the family room.

“The commute coming here is killer,” I tried to joke.

She didn’t smile, instead leaving and coming back with a first aid kit. “You need to tell me who did this. I someone bullying you?”

I almost wanted to let out a laugh. Over the last year or two, who wasn’t bullying me? Even her son got in on the action. Thankfully, as she started to clean the scratches, I managed to keep a cool face.

“It’s not important.”

“It’s that gang, isn’t it?” Mrs. Parker’s eyes flashed. “Stevie told me about them. What were they called? Arlington something… I called the cops on them, but the cops say they can’t arrest random people for hanging out in front of their houses. I asked them to put a cop nearby when kids are letting out of the school and they told me that if I was so concerned about my child’s safety, instead of wasting a cop’s precious time keeping kids from being kids I should just pick him up myself!”

A flash of anger appeared on Mrs. Parker’s face. Seeing her get angry on my behalf, I felt a soothed and all the pain I endured didn’t seem so bad anymore.

“You’re very cute when you’re mad,” I told her.

Mrs. Parker looked at me and swatted my hand. “You! How can you joke after what you’ve been through?”

“Isn’t it because of all the things you said?” I grinned. “How did you word it? ‘Don’t you have to take responsibility?’”

As much as the gang had caught me off guard, how could I forget all of Mrs. Parker’s sensual promises? She looked at me for a second and grew more embarrassed.

“Ah, fine… you clean yourself up and I’ll get ready.”

I nodded as she walked off into the kitchen. I eagerly headed into their bathroom where I stripped down and cleaned myself up. She knocked a bit later and gave me a fresh shirt from her husband’s former clothes. When I finally finished cleaning myself, I found that it wasn’t that bad. The football practice had honestly left me just as bruised and battered as the gang beating. My ribs were bruised and I had a scrap on my cheek, but I didn’t have any black eyes and most of the scraps, bruises, and cuts were on my body so I could hide them.

When I came out of the restroom, Mrs. Parker was waiting. “I’m ready for you.”

I gulped.

And a short while later, I was sitting at the kitchen table across from her. She was looking at me intensely.

“How is it?”

I took a few more bites and then swallowed hard. “It’s good.”

It was food. Of all the things I thought Mrs. Parker and I were going to do, I didn’t think we were going to eat dinner. Yet she had prepared a dish of steak and shrimp skewers. It was really good, and I could tell she put her heart into it. Compared to the kind of meals my mom made which were usually the kind you could buy in a frozen section and heat for thirty minutes before serving, the quality was out of this world. However, given my previous expectations, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit disappointed.

“I used to like to cook,” she said. “But Steve doesn’t care about food much and would prefer takeout. My husband used to… well… it doesn’t matter.

“It is tasty, Mrs. Parker.” I nodded.

“Isn’t it about time you call me by my name, Savanah?” She asked. “Like a dry, hot place, ah well, it’s not spelled the same.”

“Ah! Is that where you got the name hotmomma?”

She blushed. “Also, the cooking. Why? Did you think I chose the name for a different reason?”

She quirked an eyebrow, causing me to blush this time. “Ahem, no, I was just curious. Erm… Savannah.”

She nodded slightly and smiled. “Would you have room for dessert?”

“Um… yeah, sure.” I smiled.

I was actually pretty full, but after all the care Mrs. Parker had put into this meal and after she said how important it was to her to show me her cooking, how could I say no? She got up and walked into the kitchen, while I sat back and tried to digest my meal and make room for more. About a minute later, the lighting in the room turned dim. I glanced at the kitchen entrance, and that’s when I saw Mrs. Parker standing there. She was wearing a nothing but a see-through black nightie, a bra, thong, and a garter belt.

Her hair was loose and trailed down behind her. Her nipples were poking out of the material, and it was short enough that I could see her flat, tanned stomach and the garter belt clinging to her hips. Her nightie was so short that it barely covered her ass, and I could see her thong and the bottom of her butt cheeks. It was the most sensual thing I had ever seen on a woman.

“I forgot to mention.” She spoke breathily. “I’m the desert.”