So I’ve had quite a few crappy relationships. I mean, relationship wise they had been really good until a certain point where things went straight downhill. So this is a story about one of my exes, and the way it crashed, like those airplanes caught in sudden storm.
We started of quite crappy tbh, we lacked chemistry and weren’t much compatible in bed at first, but we really liked each other and that had helped us push through all of the negative aspects. We didn’t move in together, I used to visit her place where she lived with her younger brother and a friend of hers. The roommates were quite welcoming but at the same time weirded out by me, specially her brother, but I couldn’t tell the reason since I didn’t act or do anything out of the ordinary. I asked my ex and she said it was nothing so I let it go.
We used to spend a weekend or two at her mom’s, and she was a delightful person. I’m usually drawn towards broken things, and she aroused in me a great empathy for her, a young mother who sacrificed her personal life in the quest of bringing up her two children in a decaying society. I admired her strength to be honest, because I knew a lot of people who’d leave their children behind seeking a better life for themselves, but this lady, in her early 40s, was way beyond falling to that category.
She took a liking in me, since I was probably the first decent guy her daughter was dating. The word decent here is greatly subjective, because I am no more than an average person, and there’s nothing significant about me that might prove otherwise. But when have to meet and break bread with tons of crappy people in your life than sets your benchmark of decency so low, a simple and average person would seem like a decent person. She always said that my ex and I should move in together, start planning for the future, probably because she was afraid that her daughter might meet the same fate as hers, and I could quite understand her insecurity, that is supposed to be the normal approach from someone who had faced such difficulties for almost half of her lifespan.
Back to my ex’s apartment. Eventually I sensed that there had been a developing hostility in her brother whenever I ran into him, I mean, he didn’t express it in any way, but I could just tell you know, call it my spider-sense. So the day the first piece of domino was set off, I went to her place. I told her I would be coming at a certain time, but I somehow ended up going there early. Her friend let me in, told me she was in the shower. So I sat there, scrolling my phone and was waiting for her. Then, her washroom door opened, and to my utmost surprise, instead of my ex, her brother came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was shocked seeing me there, almost as surprised as I was to see him. He went past without saying a word closing the door behind. My brain was at an awe and I couldn’t make anything out of it, I was probably hoping that they might have swapped washrooms due to some issue, but that was only a frail attempt at trying to avoid my confrontation with the most certain truth, the horrible, naked truth.
From the shower, walked out my ex, mopping her hair with her towel and completely naked. Upon seeing me she came to a complete halt, I could literally see her face losing blood and the sheer shock of seeing me there, as if I was some ghost who came back after a long hiatus to haunt her again. She asked the most important question that would determine the future of this relationship,
“When did you come?”
I said, “I saw your brother leaving.”
There was a pause in her gesture, and then a resignation. Her shoulders dropped, and she sat down at the edge of her bed, rather I should say she let go of keep on standing. It was too much for both of us to handle, specially in person and so soon. I left and said I’d text her later, to which she nodded.
Eventually we had the talk. She opened up and told me everything. The two of them grew up alone, with a dad who would sleep around with other women and barely spent time with them, and a mom who spent her day and night trying to provide for the family. It was a struggle of a life, and home had not been the way it’s supposed to be. They grew up deprived of love and care, and in the midst of parental apathy, they found each other, explored each other and loved each other. It started off as cuddling, having the physical presence of an entity that bothered to care for them, eventually it became more than that. They kissed, they touched, they mutually masturbated, then they masturbated each other, and eventually they made love.
Maybe I would never comprehend what they had gone through together that ended them up in such a place, and probably I would never fully accept the fact that my gf at that time was sleeping with her own brother. But that night she told me everything. Every time we’d sleep together, after I’ve left her brother would crawl into the same warm bed I was on, proof that it had only been minutes, he’d have sex with her. Even there had been times when she was sexting with me while her brother was touching her, kissing her tits or licking her down there. She’d dictate him to speed up or down keeping up with our sexting.
She admitted to everything, and her admission sounded like she unloaded all of her guilt and burden, with a hint of an apology. All of these were too much for me to grasp at once, and I told her that I needed some time to figure this out. She agreed to it, and was relieved because she was certain that I was going to dump her. She honestly wanted our relationship to not end, but after such revelations I didn’t know what else to do with it, how else to react to it.
I took a few days for myself to think, and as I’ve said earlier I’m always drawn toward broken things, probably because of that I felt I should give her a chance. I mean, cheating on me, that too with her brother, these are red flags that shouldn’t be walked past. But if she’s willing to work for it, let go of it, maybe I could work for it too. I told her that it was none of my business what she did in her past, with her brother of whomever else might there have been, but when it comes to us, it’s considered cheating, no matter how long they have been sleeping together. There was no protest from her, she agreed to every word I had said. She knew what was coming, and I only confirmed her assumption saying that she needed to move out. If, there’s a chance for us to make it work, I could never fully commit knowing she’s staying with her brother, I’ll always doubt and be insecure about it.
She was probably prepared for something like this. She said that she had tried it before, letting go of it, but her brother never let her, he wouldn’t be able to function without her. It would need time on her end, to undo that dependency he had. Maybe she was secretly hoping for me to accept that and give her time, to which I couldn’t really comply. I was honest about it, with no fake hopes or anything, because she needed to face the truth, of the situation she was in and the situation she was placing us in. But it sucked. It came down to her having to choose between me and her brother, and she chose the latter, but requested in the end if we could get back together, provided she somehow managed to break those shackles. I responded that she’d have to do it because it needed to be done, not in the hopes that it would fix our relationship, because that would only be temporary. She knew what I said was right, and so we parted our ways for the time being.
A couple of weeks later, I checked with her roommate and learned that the siblings had still been sleeping together, and the frequency of it had increased since our separation. I didn’t know whether she was doing it to go out of it or go in deeper, but I suspected it was a lost cause for me to vouch on. Next day her mom called me and invited over for lunch at her place. I knew she wanted to talk about it, but I didn’t want to be a part of the confrontation where she discovered her children had been sleeping with each other, as it would only leave her devastated, she would blame herself for that. I tried to avoid it, but she was adamant on meeting me, so I thought I would spare her the pain and make something up.
The lunch started off as casually as possible, as though nothing had happened and it was like one of those family lunches that we used to have together, but this time it was only her mom and I. We eventually poured some drink and got the part that had been irritating me since I got there. She casually asked why we broke up. I could sense her tension, her worry for her daughter, and it was out of my empathy for her that made me say that I cheated on her. She took a pause for a moment, and said, “I know you didn’t cheat.” And then she leaned forward from her couch, intrigued with anticipation of her speculation, looked me directly into my eyes and said something that threw me totally off guard,
“Do you know?”
It was a simple question that could mean a thousand different things, but the implications were clear. She knew, she knew the fact that her children had been sleeping with each other, and now she had the knowledge that I knew that as well, that this was the reason behind demise, without me having to say anything. Her face wore a grave expression, she sighed, quite a long one, and resigned back to her seat.
We sat there in silence for a while, and seconds felt like hours, with tensed air heavier than concentrated ice. Her voice cut through the silence like a knife,
“I tried to stop them, you know. But I always felt weak, because I was scared to confirm the fact that I had been a horrible mother, that I was the reason for their lack of happiness, their lack of having a proper taste at life.”
I felt her words deeply, and I was consumed in her shared sorrow. I knew there was nothing I could say that could make the situation better, it was what it was in all of its nakedness. What I could do is offer her acceptance, for a person who had been rejected all of her life, who had not seen much love and compassion and indulged in self-pity, regret and sorrow. I moved close to her and knelt down beside her couch, held her hand, with the gentlest of touch in an attempt to let her know that I cared, that she had touched my heart and she mattered. She seemed to understand my gesture and closed her eyes, tightly shut, tears rolling down her chin. I wiped the tears off her eyes that probably took her by surprise, she stared blankly at me for a couple of seconds and our lips met.
I don’t know what it was, I mean, she had a pretty face and an okay-ish figure, but nothing that would make me fancy her. It wasn’t emotional attachment, neither physical lust. If I have to phrase it, it was a lust that was incited with a shared pity for her daughter, my anger that I had repressed, and my empathy for this woman who did her best to provide, but still came short by a mile. At that moment my mind was frozen like those lakes in Canada, and we carried on, knocking off glasses and vases around while moving into her bedroom, where she had spent countless long and lonely nights. Our actions kindled with lust, the compassion that her daughter and I both lacked about each other.
I was lying down on her bed and she was sitting on top of me, still our lips glued together, my hands running all over her back and down to her ass, grabbing her round ass over her jeans. Suddenly she stopped, and for a split second I thought that was it, that was as far as it could go. But I was proven wrong the very next second as she vigorously pulled my pants down, unleashing my cock that had been throbbing inside all the while demanding release. She sucked on it immediately, with such aggressive care that I can’t describe the feeling in words. It felt like she desperately needed a cock for a long while and with me she finally found what she had been looking for, the cock of her daughter’s ex lover, the cock that used to be in her daughter, the one that her daughter used to suck on and ride, was inside her mouth, and she wanted to make up for her daughter’s infidelity, that too with her child, and compensate for the man who had been generous enough to care about her, the care that she had dreaded for ages.
It was so intense that I came in her mouth very soon. She enjoyed it, and slowly took off all her clothes and stripped naked, and sat on top of me again. I was staring at her naked body with amazement, she had a really good build and her tits stood upright despite her age, like a proud monument. She was slowly rubbing her pussy on my limp dick, and I was sucking on her hanging tits. I became hard soon after, and she took me in, all the way inside her slippery wet pussy, dripping with fluid in anticipation of mating. She rode like a jockey in rodeo, and I’d never had anyone ride me with such a passion for it. Her movement, heaving of her chest, bouncing of her ass – they generated an arousal in me that I had never experienced before. I was grabbing her by her ass, so tightly that I probably left my fingerprints there, and she was nearing her climax, I could sense, as she was shivering and going super fast, and in anticipation and excitement I shoved a finger up her butt that seemed to pull the trigger. She was wildly screaming in pleasure and every muscle of her body was quivering, her body writhing on top of mine and liquids excreted from her pussy like warm blasts of water, leaving her bed and parts of myself wet.
She slowed down and laid down on top of me in exhaustion, but was still aware of the fact that I had not yet cum. She got off of me to the side and turned her back towards me and said,
“Stick it up my ass and cum there.”
That sparked in me a newfound enthusiasm, and I obliged. Hers was a tight asshole, but all the wetness of my cock and the area nearby helped massively, and quite soon I was fucking her ass, sliding my cock in and out with swift strokes. I don’t know how much strength she had left to enjoy it, or if there was any, but I came very soon inside and stayed like that, cuddling her belly and lightly grabbing her tit. She kept her hand on mine and we both passed out in exhaustion and in euphoria.
Conclusion: My ex stayed with her brother for a year, until she started dating another guy, got engaged and moved out. I’m a little impressed that she could manage to do that, after so many years of dependency. I don’t know what became of her brother. My ex never contacted me, maybe because she was embarrassed, or maybe, somehow, she knew what happened between me and her mother. That day, we woke up in the evening and we both had a silent agreement that whatever happened was necessary but it could never be repeated, or to be precise *should* never be repeated. We never contacted each other, but I’m assuming she’s happy about the fact that her daughter has found someone and moving on from the live that she always feared her daughter might end up having. And about me, I’m stuck in a loop of bad relationships and heartbreaks, but managing to find adventure in between those, maybe that’s how life is for all of us. Thank you for the time you’ve invested in reading a portion of my life. If you (if anyone) have reached this line, I truly am grateful.
Notes: I’m 24M, my ex is 25F, her brother is approximately 22M, her mother (F) is in her mid 40s, her friend/roommate is around my age. These incidents took place in 2018, over a span of one month.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mrbkd9/a_story_where_we_24m_25f_22m_42f_all_screwed_up
Wow.