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by M.B. Linders
Published by M.B. Linders at Lot’s Cave
Paul’s Vengeance, © 2017, M.B. Linders
Cover by Lot’s Cave
All Rights Reserved
All Characters In This Book Are Age 18 Or Older
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Lot’s Cave website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Lot’s Cave Novel
It was just another Tuesday of the summer. I'd graduated high school a few weeks before and was waiting for college to start in the fall. I was actually whistling happily as I parked Mom's car in the driveway and headed into the house that afternoon. At that moment, life was good.
I didn't hear the sobbing until I had walked into the house and closed the door. At first, I thought it was something on TV but it went on too long for one of Mom's “dramas.” In fact, it seemed to keep getting louder and more wretched the longer I stood there listening to it.
Concerned, I walked into the living room and found Mom half lying, half sitting on the couch. She must have been crying for a while, since there was a double handful of tissues scattered about her.
“Mom? What's wrong?” I asked, rushing to her.
She turned her tear-soaked face up to me and began bawling even louder. I put my hand on her shoulder and she grabbed it, almost crushing it with her grip.
“Your f-f-f-ather is going to k-k-kill me,” she moaned between sobs.
“Why?” I asked, concerned. I dropped down to one knee next to her and held her hand gently. “You didn't wreck the car, I was just driving it.”
“N-n-no,” she sobbed.
“Then what?” I couldn't see anything short of her having an affair that could cause this kind of reaction, and Mom would never do that. My father was her rock, and she adored him even after all these years.
“I b-b-borrowed money from someone and I can't pay it back,” she replied. At that admission, she went into another bawling fit.
“Shit, Mom,” I said under my breath, forgetting that I was cursing in front of my mother. That WAS worse than wrecking the car.
Let me explain. In our family you never, ever, borrowed money. You could either afford something or you couldn't. Dad believed that if you borrowed money from someone, you were beholden to them and he'd be damned if he'd be beholden to anybody. The only exception I'd ever known in my life was for the house, and even then Dad put down 75 percent of the cost down...in cash. The man worked his ass off and was financially savvy. He could squeeze a penny and get 6 cents out of it.
Before I came around Dad worked two jobs while going to college and Mom worked one while they lived in his parents’ house. He had a small inheritance from his grandfather and, using that as a base, within three years he had saved enough for a small house. By the time that I was five years old they'd bought and sold three houses, each one slightly nicer and better than the last. The house we lived in now was Dad's only concession to borrowing, because he figured it was the last house they'd ever buy.
Mom quit her job when I was born, but still had side businesses going on...cosmetics, housewares, etc. She never really seemed to make much money at it, always getting out of one venture with enough to plunge into the next. Dad didn't mind it, and was always encouraging her to go the extra distance to find the one that would work for her. If nothing else, it gave her spending cash and the woman could definitely spend some cash. Dad would chuckle when she came home from the mall with bags of clothes and shoes. As long as it was her money, he didn't care what she spent it on.
“Borrowed money from who? How much?” The questions tumbled out of my mouth. I had a couple thousand in the bank. It was supposed to be for college expenses, but saving Mom's butt took precedence.
“Twenty four thousand dollars,” she cried out, then collapsed into a sobbing heap on the couch.
My mouth dropped open in utter shock.
“Holy fuck, Mom,” I said softly. “Dad will divorce you if he doesn't kill you first.”
“I kn-kn-know!!!” she sobbed. She was so upset that she didn't even chastise me for my language.
It took me a couple of minutes, but I managed to get her sitting up straight and to stop crying enough for her to tell me the whole story. It turned out that the very first side business she had, back when I was still in diapers, had blown up in her face and she lost everything she put into it. Desperate to hide it from Dad she turned to an old boyfriend, Paul Douglas.
Mom had dated Paul before she met my father. She didn't talk much about those days, saying that it was all in the past, but I always felt there was something more to the story. In fact, there was a bit of family scandal because she'd been seen riding in Paul's car the night before she married my father. She denied it, but the gossip still popped up from time to time.
Paul loaned Mom several hundred dollars, and it allowed her to get into her next venture. Most of them failed and she kept going back to him for new start-up cash. It simply appeared to Dad that she had enough from the last attempt to make the next attempt.
“Now he's calling in all the money that he loaned me over the years,” Mom finished, dangerously close to breaking into tears. “He won't talk about it, won't even take my phone calls. He said if I don't pay up, he'll sue me. I don't know what to do!”
That was the bitch of it all. Paul Douglas's grandfather had started Douglas Industries in the mid-50's, and Paul was now CEO and majority owner. Dad was a mid-level engineer at DI.
I sat in silence, listening to Mom's chest heaving sniffling, trying to think of something to say. “Have you gone to his office and talked to him in person?” I finally asked. “Maybe being face-to-face will make him more agreeable?”
“I don't know if I have the courage for that,” Mom replied. “The only time I ever went to his office was to borrow money, and I had to listen to him and his nasty comments. I don't think I can do it.”
“I'll go with you,” I volunteered. “He'll damn well be civil while I'm there. In fact, let's go now. Dad won't be home for a couple of hours and maybe we can get everything resolved by then.”
It took another twenty minutes of hard arguing for me to convince Mom to go down to Paul's office, but in the end I won and she cleaned herself up. I didn't think that Mom was capable of driving in the nervous condition she was in, so I drove.
We walked into Douglas Industrial's corporate offices and walked up to Paul's receptionist. She was very pretty, and vaguely familiar to me but I couldn't place from where.
“Hello, Mrs. Walsh,” she said cheerily. “How can I help you?”
“Hi, Emma,” Mom answered. “I'd like to see Paul, please.”
“Certainly,” Emma said, crisply. “Please make yourself comfortable while I check to see if he's available.” She picked up her phone as Mom and I sat down.
After a few minutes, Emma told us that he could see us, and we walked into his office, closing the door behind us.
“Hello, Maria,” he said pleasantly. “And I assume this is Jesse, your son?”
I sized the man up. He was a big man, well over six feet tall and solidly built. I was slightly surprised that he looked a little like Dad; he had a ruggedly handsome face, the same square jaw and the same build as Dad. “Must be Mom's 'type',” I thought to myself.
“Yes, this is my son,” Mom said hesitantly.
“What can I do for you today,” he asked.
“I...We came to talk about the loan. I can't repay the entire amount like you asked and I was hoping we can come to some sort of an arrangement,” she said.
Paul frowned and shook his head. “If you remember, our agreement was that you would repay me on demand. I can have Emma bring your file so that you can review it, if you like.”
“No!” Mom hissed. “I remember our agreement. I simply don't have the money to repay it all at once. Can't we just come up with some kind of payment plan?”
“No,” Paul said darkly. “I want you to honor the terms of our agreement. I've notified you that the loan was due, and you're required to pay it. If you can't, I can call your husband in here and explain it to him. He could agree to have the amount taken out of his paycheck to repay, or I can take you to court.”
Tears started flowing down Mom's face. “Please, Paul,” she begged, “Jack would divorce me if he found out about this. Isn't there anything that I can do?”
Paul looked us both over for a second, then smiled. “Well, there MIGHT be something that you can do. But, I warn you, you might not like it.”
“What?” Mom asked, hope showing on her face.
“I have a position that needs filling. A position that will allow the debt to be paid” he said, smirking.
“What position?” Mom asked.
“The position between my legs, sucking my dick,” he said, chuckling.
“PAUL!” Mom said, shocked. My fists balled involuntarily, and I started moving towards him to kick his ass.
Paul pointed his finger at me. “One more move from you and I'll have you thrown out of here by security, and I'll have the lawsuit against your mother filed this afternoon. So calm down.”
My fists stayed clenched, ready to punch him out, but I stopped in my tracks and glared at him.
“You can't ask that of me, Paul,” Mom pleaded. “I'm happily married. I wouldn't do that for all the money in the world. I've told you that again and again.”
“First off, you've ALREADY done that,” Paul answered. “Remember the night before you married Jack? You sucked my dick with a passion, if I remember right...just before I fucked your brains out in the back seat of my car.” Looking at me, he continued: “Didn't hear about that, did you? That your mom was acting like a cheap whore, begging for my cock the night before she got married?”
Mom buried her face in her hands, her chest heaving in sobs. I stared at her, unable to comprehend how my straight-laced mother could ever act like that. In the deep recesses of my mind, however, I realized that she didn't deny any of it.
“Second off, I wasn't considering YOU for the position,” he continued. “I mean, look at yourself. You've REALLY let yourself go...you're a good thirty pounds overweight and I honestly can't remember the last time I saw you take any kind of care with your clothing or make-up. You're getting old, Maria...you're really just not that appealing to me anymore.”
Mom dropped her hands and looked at Paul, confused. “But...who...if not me, then who are you talking about?”
“Young Jesse here would fill the position nicely,” he said, leering.
I had turned my head to look at Mom, but my head snapped around when he said that and I stared at him. “What the fuck???” I stammered.
“OH MY GOD!! NO!!!” Mom said, shocked. The fierceness in her voice shook me. “You're...you're...GAY??”
“Hell no, I'm not gay,” he laughed. “If I sucked HIS dick, then I'd be gay. I'm just fond of getting blown, and it would please me to see YOUR son on his knees in front of me with my fat cock in his mouth.”
“No! I forbid it!” Mom shouted.
Paul looked at her for a moment, then picked up his phone. “Emma, would you call Jack Walsh and have him come to my office, please? Thank you.” He put the phone down and looked at us with cold eyes.
My mind raced. On the one hand, if Dad found out about Mom's actions, this would be the end of my family. There was no doubt that he would be furious over all this, and if the story of the night before their wedding was thrown in, he would certainly divorce Mom.
On the other hand, the idea of having Paul's cock in my mouth was repulsive. I didn't know if I could even do it. I'd never even considered guys in a sexual way and had always been firmly heterosexual.
In seconds, both scenarios played out in my mind. Sick to my stomach, I realized that giving Paul a blowjob was the better of two horrible options unless I wanted my family torn apart.
“Yes, Jesse?” He said, smiling at me. “You have something to add?”
“Don't bring my Dad into this,” I said slowly.
“You're willing to accept the position I offered?” he asked bluntly.
“Jesse, NO!” Mom commanded, the fury in her voice making it break.
My anger boiled over. “Shut the fuck up, Mom” I snapped at her. Turning back to Paul, I stared at him for a minute. My stomach lurched as I said, “Yes. I'll take it, provided that my Dad doesn't find out about any of this—including what went on between you and Mom before. And I want that in writing.”
Paul clapped his hands. “Excellent! You've picked up some business skills somewhere, young Jesse. I'm impressed that you remembered to ask for my promises in writing.” He picked up his phone again. “Emma, disregard calling Mr. Walsh. Oh, you have already? Well, when he shows up, just send him back to his office. Also, print out a blank confidentially agreement for me, please. I'll come get it in a bit and fill in the particulars myself.”
Tearfully, Mom turned to me. “Please, Jesse, don't do this! You can't! He's...he's...” She stopped, her wracking sobs taking her voice from her.
I turned to her and pointed my finger at her. “Shut up, Mom,” I repeated. “I'm saving your ass and our family. We'll talk about it later.”
“Shall we get your new hire orientation out of the way?” Paul said, standing up and unbuckling his belt.
“Now?” I said, my stomach lurching. I still didn't know if I could actually go through with it. Mom shuddered and started to bolt towards the door.
“MARIA!” Paul said in a commanding voice, stopping her in her tracks. “You need to stay here for this. After all, you need to see the consequences of your actions.”
“Oh my God, no,” Mom said between sobs. “You bastard! Why are you doing this?”
Paul dropped his pants and underwear, his semi-hard cock dangling. He sat back down and motioned for me to approach him. “Why? You should know why,” he said, darkly. Seeing me not moving, he gestured angrily to me. “Get over here!”
With leaden feet, I slowly walked towards him. His meaty hands grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to my knees. I stared with trepidation at his hardening cock.
He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face towards his now-hard cock. “Maria, move over here where you can get a good look at your son.” Mom didn't move until Paul glared at her, then slowly, reluctantly, shuffled around to the side of his desk. She stared at the floor, refusing to look at me on my knees in front of Paul.
I'd never seen another guy's cock in person before. It was bigger than mine, about 7” long and a lot fatter. The tip oozed a clear fluid. It looked evil and threatening to me.
He traced the outline of my mouth with the tip of his cock, smearing his pre-cum on my lips. I could taste the saltiness of it, and I shuddered.
“Open up now,” he said, gently.
My lips parted slightly, and he pushed the tip of his cock between them. I heard Mom gasp.
“Very nice...you have your mother's lips. Feels almost the same from what I remember of hers,” he chuckled. “Now suck it. We don't have all day; I have a business to run.”
I slowly pushed my mouth down over him. I could feel him throb and the taste of his pre-cum became stronger. When his cockhead nudged against the back of my throat, I gagged and quickly pulled back. I would have taken it completely out of my mouth if his hand hadn't gripped the back of my head and pulled me back onto it.
“Are you enjoying this, Maria?” he said, hissing slightly at the pleasure he must have been feeling. His hand alternately pulled and pushed my head, making my mouth slide up and down his pulsing shaft. “You were a hell of a cocksucker back then...I wonder if it's genetic, if it's something that you passed on to your son. His mouth certainly feels like yours, will he enjoy it as much as you did?”
I started sucking his cock faster. I wanted this to be over with as soon as possible and the only way it would be was with his orgasm.
His hand released my head, and rested lightly atop it as I continued sucking him. I was a bit surprised that it wasn't as bad as I had feared. The taste, while unusual, wasn't completely unpleasant and, surprisingly, the feel of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth was vaguely exciting.