Oops, I Banged My Bully's Mom - Chapter 88
Coach Rex tried to puff out his chest and look tough, but the effect was somewhat diminished by the steady stream of blood dripping from his nose and the way his eyes kept watering from the pain. He waved off the concerned looks from the football players, insisting he was fine, just a little scratch. Mrs. Parker, however, was having none of it.
“Jon, you had first aid training, right? Could you come take a look at this?” she called over to Mr. Conner.
Mr. Conner set down a glass he was cleaning and walked out from behind the bar, his expression unreadable. Coach Rex tried to wave him off, but he ignored him and gripped Coach Rex’s chin with one hand and tilted his head back. His fingers probed the bridge of the nose, and Coach Rex let out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush.
“It’s broken,” Mr. Conner declared flatly. “You need to go to urgent care to get it set.”
“The hell I do,” Coach Rex growled, though his voice came out nasally and congested. “It’s just a bump. I’ve had worse.”
“That’s a negative,” Mr. Conner barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If you don’t get it set now, you’ll be breathing through a crooked straw for the rest of your life.”
Coach Rex’s face was a mask of frustrated pride. I could see the gears turning in his head. He had wanted to impress Ms. Barnett today, to show off his athletic prowess and masculine vitality. Instead, he was sitting there with a bloody nose and a tissue in his hand, looking less like an alpha male and more like a beaten dog. He glanced over at Ms. Barnett, perhaps thinking she might at least be concerned, but she wasn’t even paying attention to him. She was standing in the corner, a distracted expression on her face as she fidgeted with her bikini while trying to look like she wasn’t.
This caused Coach Rex’s face to drop even more. How could he guess that the reason she was fidgeting was that her pussy was full of my cum? Now that she was out of the pool, it was leaking out into her bikini, and she was terrified it would run down her leg or show through the wet fabric. She was desperately trying to find a way to hide it, regretting getting out of the pool at all. The thought made me smile.
“Damn it, where is Diana?” Mr. Conner frowned. “I need to go take him to urgent care. She needs to be here to watch the pig roast.”
“We’ll watch it.” Carl jumped to attention. “You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m telling you, I don’t need to go!” Coach Rex protested again.
“I’ll take him,” Ms. Barnett suddenly announced.
She grabbed her clothing from a nearby chair and began to pull it on quickly, pulling it over her still-wet swimsuit. The fabric clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination, and I could see the faint outline of her nipples through the damp material. She was blushing furiously as she gathered her things, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
Coach Rex’s stubbornness finally diminished. He seemed to brighten at the prospect of spending time alone with her, despite the circumstances. In his mind, he likely thought that he could still save this date. He definitely didn’t know she only did it so she could hide her creampie a little better. He grabbed his shirt and keys, and the two of them headed for the gate. Just before they disappeared from view, Ms. Barnett glanced back over her shoulder. Her eyes met mine for a brief moment, and she mouthed the word, ‘sorry’. Then she was gone, leaving me with a warm feeling of satisfaction.
Coach Rex had tried to woo her, and now she was dragging his sorry ass to the hospital with a womb full of my cum. I didn’t feel bad about it at all. The guy was an ass, and he deserved every bit of humiliation he got.
As they drove away, the back door of the house opened, and Mrs. Conner finally appeared. She had cleaned herself up considerably since our encounter in the kitchen. Her hair was damp, freshly washed, and she had changed into a new outfit, a simple blouse, and a pair of capri pants. Her eyes still held a bit of her former distress, but she covered it up well. Mr. Conner’s head snapped around at the sound of the door. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “While you’ve been fucking around, I’ve been handling everything out here by myself.”
Mrs. Conner jumped at his voice, her body visibly tensing. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Her eyes darted to me for a split second before looking away. She couldn’t exactly tell him the truth, that she had been washing off the mess of another man out of her hair before she rejoined the party. Her hesitation caused Mr. Conner’s expression to darken.
However, before he could speak, a voice sounded from behind Mrs. Conner. “It was my fault.”
Daryl came walking out of the house, a relaxed expression on his face showing nothing of the sight he had seen earlier. He walked over to stand next to his mother, his shoulders squared.
“Your fault?” Mr. Conner’s frown deepened. “How?”
“I was trying to help carry stuff out,” he said, his voice flat. “I tripped and dropped the milk all over her. She had to take a shower and change her clothes while I cleaned up the kitchen.
Mr. Conner’s eyes moved from his son to his wife, his gaze suspicious. “Is that true?”
Mrs. Conner stiffened and then nodded vigorously, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. That’s what happened.”
Mr. Conner turned back to Daryl, and without warning, his hand shot out and smacked the boy across the back of the head. The sound was sharp and loud, making several of the guests wince.
“You idiot,” Mr. Conner growled as if this were common. “Now we don’t have any milk. I can’t make any White Russians.”
Daryl’s hand went to the back of his head, but he didn’t flinch.
“Sorry, sir,” he muttered, though there was no real contrition in his voice.
His expression remained distant and cold, and as his father turned away, his eyes flicked to me. There was something unreadable in that gaze, something that made me feel a twinge of unease. It wasn’t anger, exactly. It was more like… resignation. Or maybe acceptance. I couldn’t tell. Did the pair talk things out? By the way, Mrs. Conner was looking at Daryl with guilt and just a tinge of surprise, but it didn’t seem to be the case.
At that point, a very drunk Mr. Smith stumbled up to Mr. Conner and threw his arm around Mr. Conner’s shoulders, causing the military man to stiffen.
“No worries, no worries,” Mr. Smith laughed in a slurred voice, his breath reeking of alcohol. “There are plenty of other cocktails we can still enjoy. Come on, I have a cocktail recipe I wanted to try. It’s called a blowjob! Get it!”
Mr. Smith burst into laughter, completely oblivious to the icy stares of some of the parents over his comments in front of their kids. Mr. Conner looked like he wanted to shrug off the drunk man’s arm, but instead, he allowed himself to be led back toward the bar. Mrs. Conner watched them go, her expression icy. She sneaked a complicated look at Daryl also, but he had already turned away, his face unreadable.
“It’s just a woman should know her proper place,” Mr. Conner muttered as he took his position behind the bar again.
“On her knees?” Mr. Smith asked.
Carl let out a snort of laughter, but then quickly stiffened as he glanced over at Mom, who tightened her lips. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was biting her tongue. Good old Carl, always messing it up. Mrs. Conner heard this two, and some of the women gave her sympathetic looks, but she ignored it all and walked over to where the pig was cooking to tend to it.
“A woman should serve her husband.” Mr. Conner continued, dropping his voice a bit so his wife didn’t hear.
Mr. Smith chuckled. “I hear you, brother, but that’s just women. I’d be happy if mine were just there, but I don’t even know where the hell my wife went. She just disappeared.”
He made a gesture, looking around. He was correct. At some point, Mrs. Smith had disappeared from his side. She had looked uncomfortable since the moment they arrived, but she seemed to have finally taken off.
“Actually,” Mrs. Parker suddenly perked up. “I think Julie went inside. Let me go check on her.”
She started walking toward the house, but as she passed me, she let her hand brush against mine. Her fingers lingered for just a moment, and she gave me a look that was anything but innocent, gesturing toward the house with her eyes where only the two of us could see. It was clear she was using this as an excuse to get alone with me. I might have felt more excited, but I had already come a half dozen times today. Even I had a limit. Plus, the woman was becoming increasingly bold, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep her at bay without causing a scene.
Before I could think about it further, Mrs. Conner’s voice rang out, cutting through the chatter of the party. “The pig roast is finished and ready to serve!”
A cheer went up from the crowd, and people started moving toward the serving area. Mr. Conner came out from behind the bar, his movements brisk and efficient.
“I’ll cut it,” he muttered, still grouchy. “You’ll probably mess it up.”
Mrs. Conner’s face fell, but she didn’t argue. She simply stepped aside and let him take the knife and serving fork. The guests lined up, plates in hand, eager to get their share of the roasted pig. The smell had filled the entire backyard without me noticing. It smelled incredible, and looked even better, the skin crispy and golden, the meat tender and juicy.
Although I wanted a bite, I was a bit worried about Mrs. Parker. I used the distraction to slip into the house. The cool interior was a welcome relief from the heat of the evening sun. The house was quiet with most of the guests still outside. I heard a toilet flush coming from the bathroom down the hall. I assumed it was Mrs. Parker getting cleaned up after having gone inside to “check on Mrs. Smith.”
I walked down the hallway, my footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. The bathroom door was closed, but I could hear the sound of someone moving around inside. I waited, leaning against the wall, trying to look casual in case anyone walked by.
There was some water running from the sink, and a moment later, the door opened. I turned to face Mrs. Parker, but I found myself face-to-face with Mrs. Smith instead. She looked just as surprised to see me, her hand flying to her chest.
“Lucas,” she gasped. “You startled me.”
“Sorry,” I said, straightening up. “I was just… what are you doing in here?”
She sighed, her hand moving to stroke her pregnant stomach. The gesture was almost unconscious, a protective motion that seemed to comfort her.
“My morning sickness is starting to act up again. The smell of that pig roast was just too strong for me.
I frowned, glancing at the window where the afternoon sun was setting in the sky. “But it’s not morning.”
She gave me a tired smile. “Morning sickness doesn’t always occur in the morning. The name is a bit of a misnomer. In my case, it seems to be triggered by certain smells.”
“Smells?” I asked, confused.
“Meat,” she said, her nose wrinkling. “Even though my baby craves meat, I get noxious smelling it. How ridiculous is that?”
“V-very!” I said too exuberantly when I realized she was expecting an answer.
She let out a soft giggle and leaned against the doorframe, looking exhausted. “The doctor said I need to get my protein up for the pregnancy, but it’s hard. I can barely stomach the thought of eating meat.”
I looked at her, at the dark circles under her eyes, the pallor of her skin, the way she kept stroking her belly as if trying to soothe the life growing inside her. A thought occurred to me, and I couldn’t help but grin.
“Well,” I said, my voice low and teasing, “I have some meat you can try, and it’s full of protein too.”
I expected her to laugh, or to swat my arm, or to give me a disapproving look. What I didn’t expect was for her to tilt her head slightly, her eyes dropping to my crotch for a brief moment before she glanced both ways down the hallway. She then reached out, grabbed my shirt, and pulled me into the bathroom. The door closed behind us with a soft click, and suddenly we were alone in the small, confined space.
The next thing I knew, she was on her knees in front of me, her hands fumbling with my belt. I leaned against the sink, my head spinning. This was not how I expected this to go. I had just made a bad joke, but Mrs. Smith was freeing my cock from my pants like she was a starving woman. Once she freed it, she looked at it briefly with an almost satisfied expression. She then leaned forward, her tongue darting out to lick the tip before she took me into her mouth.
The sensation was incredible, her mouth warm and wet, her tongue swirling around the head. She bobbed her head up and down, her hands gripping the base of my shaft. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the mirror, trying to enjoy the feeling.
Although the blood was flowing to my dick and keeping it hard, I started to realize there was something wrong. No matter how good it felt, no matter how enthusiastically she sucked, I couldn’t seem to reach the edge. I had already cum so many times today, with Mrs. Parker, with Mom, with Mrs. Conner, with Ms. Barnett. My body was simply tapped out.
She continued sucking it for five minutes before she began to notice something wrong. She pulled back, her eyes looking up at me with concern.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice small.
“Yeah,” I said, though I didn’t sound convincing even to my own ears. “Everything’s fine.”
She looked down at my cock, still hard in her hand, and then back up at me. Her eyes began to well up with tears.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” Her voice shook. “I’ve grown too fat. You’re no longer attracted to me?”
“What? No, that’s not…” I grew startled as my principal suddenly started bawling her eyes out.
“I’m not surprised!’ She sobbed, her shoulders shaking. “I’m so disgusting. My belly is huge, my breasts are swollen and tender, and I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. And now I can’t even get a high school boy to cum. I’m not even a woman anymore!”
She stood up as she wept, big tears falling down her cheeks. I felt a pang of guilt. This wasn’t about her at all. It was about me and my overused dick. But I couldn’t exactly tell her that. She tried to walk toward the door, but I reached out and grabbed her.
“Hey,” I said, my voice gentle. “You’re not disgusting. You’re beautiful. More beautiful than ever.”
She shook her head, more tears falling. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not,” I insisted. “You’re carrying a life inside you. That’s the most beautiful thing in the world. And you’re not fat. You’re glowing. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
She looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy, but a small smile was starting to form on her lips. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” I said, and I meant it. “That’s why I’m going to fuck you right now.”
“You…” She giggled slightly. “Your big dick might scare the baby.”
“Nonsense, I’m just going to tap on his door a little bit, make sure he knows the way out.”
She giggled, but let me turn her around and bend her over the sink. She gripped the edges of the countertop, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. I lifted the hem of her dress, exposing her bare ass and the wet slit between her legs. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. She saw me raise my eyebrow in the mirror, and her face turned red.
“While I vomited, I ended up peeing myself.” She admitted sheepishly. “Aren’t I a mess?”
“Not yet.” I positioned myself at her entrance and thrust inside her, burying myself to the balls in one smooth motion.
She cried out, her body trembling. I held still for a moment, letting her adjust to my size. Then, I began to move. I started slow, my hips rocking back and forth, my hands gripping her waist. The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed in the small bathroom. Her pregnant stomach was dipped into the bowl of the sink, her hips pressed against the edge, and her hands pressed against the mirror. She must have been very horny, because not only was she wet, but she already felt like she was cumming. Her moans became louder, more frantic, her body shaking with each thrust. I felt her walls start to tighten around me, a sure sign that she was close. I sped up my movements, my hips moving like a piston, driving into her with a relentless rhythm. The intensity of my assault made the mirror we were leaning against tremble, rattling against the wall.
I didn’t know if it was because she was pregnant or because she felt that we were deep enough in the house, but she didn’t regulate her volume at all. She came with a loud moan, her body convulsing around me. Her juices flooded my cock, soaking my balls. As she came, liquid began to leak onto the floor like a faucet had been turned on. She slumped over the sink, her chest heaving, her body limp. I kept thrusting, my own release still a distant promise. I was nowhere close to cumming yet.
“D-did you just pee?” I asked in surprise.
“S-sorry… I just can’t hold it anymore, and with your big dick…” She panted, blushing shamefully.
“Awesome!” I laughed, grabbing her legs.
“Wh-what are you doing?” She cried out as I picked her up.
I lifted her legs, putting them up on the sink. She grabbed the sink edge, afraid of falling, but I positioned her so her ass was hanging off the end of the counter, my dick still inside her pussy, but her spread legs and pussy were visible in the mirror.
“I’m going to make you watch as I fuck you. I want you to see how sexy and beautiful you are!” I declared.
“L-lucas… this.” Her body was right in front of her, her big belly in the mirror, her back pressed against my chest, and her bent legs with stockings spread wide to show her pussy gaped open by my dick.
I immediately began to fuck her against, holding her up as I thrust into her from behind. She wrapped one hand around the back of my neck and held the bathroom edge with the other, fearing a fall. The way we were positioned allowed for deeper penetration, and I could feel the tip of my cock hitting her cervix with each thrust. The wetness from her body pooled on the sink top, dripping down the cabinet doors below, a messy testament to our exertion.
She was still sensitive from the last orgasm, and this new angle had her gasping and moaning in no time.
“Oh, god, Lucas,” she cried out, her head falling back against my shoulder. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I had no intention of stopping. I increased my pace, my hips snapping forward, driving my cock into her with a vengeance. The bathroom was filled with the sounds of our frantic fucking, the slapping of my balls against her ass, her desperate pleas for more. I reached around and began to rub her clit, my fingers slippery with her juices. She came hard, her entire body convulsing, a cry tearing from her throat.
Another gush of hot liquid flowed, drenching my cock and balls and shooting out with enough force that it covered the mirror with her liquid.
“You’re going to flood the bathroom,” I grunted, though I wasn’t complaining. “I didn’t know you pregnant folk were so juicy.”
“I-it’s not me,” she panted, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “It’s the baby. He’s kicking my bladder!”
This explanation made me laugh. I began to continue to fuck her, watching her cum in the mirror, soaking the bathroom counter, mirror, and sink in her lust and piss. She could only watch in mortified awe, her cheeks bright red in the mirror, but there was no hiding the look of pure ecstasy on her face. As I thrust into her, the water in the toilet, which had filled when she flushed, started sloshing in the bowl from our vigorous movement.
I continued fucking her like this, through two more orgasms and two more floods of liquid, until my own release began to build. I could feel the pressure mounting at the base of my spine, my balls tightening. I was finally getting there. After having cum so many times today, it took some work to finally hit that plateau again, but I was finally ready. Her pussy was so hot and wet, so tight, and so willing.
“I’m going to cum,” I grunted.
“Yes,” she cried. “Cum inside me. Fill me up.”
With a final, powerful thrust, I buried myself to the hilt inside her and exploded. My cum shot out in thick, hot ropes, painting the inside of her womb. It felt like it lasted forever, my whole body tensing as I emptied myself into her.
When I was finally spent, I pulled out slowly, my cock twitching as it left the warmth of her pussy. I held her up to her reflection, her shuddering body on display behind the dripping flecks of sex that covered the mirror. She was red-faced and panting, her pussy gaping as white stuff leaked out.
“See, that’s my sexy principal.” I teased.
She looked up at me, her eyes dazed, a blissful smile on her face. “Lucas… I love you.”
“…”