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Spending Mother's Day with Mrs. Parr	By : TimedWatcher Category: +G through L > Incredibles, The Views: 39890 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Incredibles, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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The squire station wagon door clunked shut over the sound of the engine, his vision still trailing Helen as she walked up the recently shoveled driveway of a strangers home, but Helen disappeared behind the face of Violet, who was in a blue pair of earmuffs instead of her usual headband and had an expectant look. They cuddled for warmth, their heartbeats muffled by winter jackets, and sure, the car already had hot air ventilating, but what was better than getting it from someone you loved?
The first moment him and Violet had alone together, and he was still nervous. "Are you sure about this?"
"Sure I'm sure. She isn't going to bother you, I promise." It's not just her that he was worried about...
"What about your dad? Is he still okay with this?"
"Mom was a lock." Her head fell back, her irises slicing across her lids towards him again. "Obviously." She continued. "But there was no way I was gonna convince him to let you go... but mom... I kinda, sorta, got her to... guilt dad into letting you come."
"What?" His shock was palpable. 'Oh no, he's really gonna hate me.' was his first thought. Then he thought about he had done with both Parr women; 'oh no, he's gonna kill me.'
She patted down his shoulder. "Don't worry about it." Then her finger snapped in the air. "Hey, maybe he'll react like your mom."
That got an 'are you serious?' reaction from him. "Are you kidding? When she saw you for the first time, she practically wanted to shove me into your arms and have us elope."
"Yeah, why was she so pushy?" Violet's lips pouted and her eyes squinty.
He side glanced her with a smug look. "I think she wants grand kids. Her grandparents were about our age when they started..."
It looked like the floor opened beneath her, displaying that same expression he had just a couple moments ago. "Uh, well... she's gonna have tuh, uh... look... elsewhere..."
A single finger lowered like a draw bridge, as he inched it towards her, connecting with her chin. It didn't take much effort to get Violet to turn his way, her neck like a dolls, as he put on his most appealing face before planting a light kiss.
He was happy to see her blush.
Both passenger doors to their right opened, and their bodies, on reflex, drew a line between them to keep a distance. Helen was back, and with her, were her two sons. "Hey Vi. Hey Tony Two." Her eldest brother threw that out casually while one handing a bag of his stuff over the seat and into the boot like it was a basketball.
What the- "My names not-"
He gave an eschewing wave as he sat back down. "No, don't tell me. No point in learning it now when Vi'll break up with you pretty soon."
"Shut up, dork!" She started slapping the hell out of Dash, and Dash slapped right back. He could only sit back watching the sibling rivalry unfold. What was the procedure here? He felt like Dash was at that cutoff point where hitting him would just be cruel... but he was hitting Violet... but she was hitting him right back. Honestly, it seemed better to leave it, even if it made things awkward.
"Dash." Helen interrupted their scuffle. She then turned her head with slow, calculated precision to her daughter. "Violet." She didn't yell or curse, addressing them politely in her Georgian twang. "Which one of you wants to sit up here between me and your father?"
Silence.
Whoa.
With buckled seats and the five of them in the car, he looked ahead over the green mint interior to the empty drivers seat. That just left... you know who.
He had seen pictures of Violet's father on the wall at their house before, but seeing him for real... he was not to scale. He'd probably be scared of any girls father, but this guy... the man was unreal, like Kong made human. He opened and closed the trunk, placing a suitcase, before sidling up to the car door - but he paused, as if readying himself for something, then he opened the door and took his time in getting in, yet even still, the car jostled, dipping like they were about to sink into the earth, only to return to normal a second later.
Violet's father gave Helen a knowing look, surveying those in the back, except for the interloper that he was there. Which made sense, as he was trying to physically make himself scarce; his breathing slowed and eyeline static. He let out a sigh of relief as soon as Vi's dads attention turned back to the wheel, the car finally moving again.
The scent of lead filled gasoline proclaimed itself at every stop they made, as the city kept getting smaller and smaller in the rearview, his familiar suburbs faded long ago as they took the interstate out of town. This had been the farthest he had ever been away from it, but any anxiety about the driver or where they were headed was extinguished by the hand that held his.
His forehead found further comfort in the cold of the window, as he watched the countryside, seeing still bits of green that hadn't been covered yet. He breathed, his finger then squeaking against the window. He nudged Violet as he leaned into his seat, pointing; their names with a heart around them and a + between them. She nudged right back with a raised eyebrow, but moved closer to him.
Before he could even think about taking a nap, they pulled onto an icy dirt path, passing cottonwoods and firs, bumping up him and Violet. As he steadied himself, it was then he could see their destination: The Parr family home away from home. It seemed to have started as a single story, but a later addition adding a second, as it looked unnatural, with support beams underneath it, jutting from the first.
They parked in front of a nearly buried, wooden curb, as they all climbed out - he made sure Violet wouldn't slip on anything, offering her a hand that she took, as he lined up for a pair of paper bags, the supplies needed to survive out here as long as they'd be staying. When he saw Violet taking two, he took six, as well as his backpack with a change of clothes. He watched Violet's dad reach in, resulting in a bit of a slouch, but he carried eight of them.
In each arm.
In the middle of nowhere and this nice lookin' place, carrying all this food - it kind of felt like he was rich people camping. He spied gifts in a couple of the bags, a little envious that none were addressed to him - but he was sure nothing could compare to the present he was going to unwrap early, the girl walking to his left.
The twenty fourth... he wish he could have stayed longer than two days.
At the ruby red front door, he watched Vi's father set them all down, creating a brown bag moat around himself, as Mr. Parr picked up one of the Binford bags and pulled out a log with the company logo on it. "I'll go start the furnace." He presumed he was going to the shed with the smoke stack sticking out of it that he saw earlier.
His teeth kept trying to chatter, and he kept having to mentally check himself everytime to stop it from happening, as everytime he did, something clinked in these bags. He tried to recall what it might have been, as he remembered the shopping they did, acting as Miss Parr's little commando, helping secure everything they needed. Despite everything, he still had his manners and wanted to leave a good impression.
"Cold?" Was the only word from Helen, as she stood at his back, hovering; placing a mitt covered hand on his shoulder. He affixed himself forward to the door, not wanting to see Violet's reaction... or maybe that would make things worse. Before he could make a decision, Bob re-emerged, pulling out a set of keys. They almost huddled around him, wanting the door to be open soon.
They piled in one at a time, as Bob went out for the bags he left behind. He watched them take off their boots at the door, and he did likewise; using the stair railing, which lead up to a landing and another set of stairs that lead up to their bedrooms, as leverage. As soon as he set his foot down, a chilling feeling of the floors that hadn't quite warmed yet swept through him. Nothing was even tepid, still able to see his breath.
A light was clicked on, and the stained, polished, wood, reflected it, and gave the interior an orangey hued look. Helen sorted through bags, giving her kids and him the food, as Dash and Violet gave him advice on where to put the dry and canned goods. In the middle of stuffing the cupboards or clacking the latch on the fridge door to put a perishable in it, things began to thaw, and there was a point where he had to get his jacket off or he'd incinerate, going to hang it above the shoes, then returning to help again, spying that it was the gift bags that the parents were currently rustling through.
With the groceries out of the way, he placed his backpack in the corner, beside a bookcase and a few paces from the fire place in front of the three-seater where he'd be staying. When Bob told him he'd get the couch, he could only reply 'fair enough' (actually, he didn't even do that.) His only convenience being that the bathroom was right around the corner, in an alcove near the kitchen - but he still kinda hated where he was situated, feeling like his neckline was exposed at all times.
He sat for an hour or so, as they seemed to run around a lot, putting things away or asking eachother where things were, family squabbling he wasn't privy to or that he really understood. There was something about an attic and 'if it was still up there'. For all he knew, there was a mutant they kept fed up that staircase they pulled down by the cord, but he wasn't going to go snoopin' around. He was a guest.
His fist rested above his chin, looking like he was eternally punching his own teeth out, as Violet leaped over, bringing him out of his doldrums with a nuzzle. "You haven't been eying up my mom when I'm not looking, have you?" ... what? Where did that come from? He vocalized that thought, both of them speaking in hushed tones. "My mom and dad... I think they're gonna get back together, so I don't want you messing it up."
He turtled into that ring around his neck. "So why invite me? You know how she can be around me."
"Because it'd be lame without you? Spending Christmas alone with my family... could you imagine?" She turned into her hair, blowing some of it up with air to push it away from her face.
He didn't want to belittle her problem, but... "I'm sure you've done it before and I'm sure you'll do it again." Only after he said did he realise how it came out.
Violet looked hurt, but thankfully, only the playful kind. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Before he could explain, a tired sounding Bob made an announcement, standing in front of the entryway. "Okay everybody, it's time to go out and get a Christmas tree."
"Yes!" Dash announced, running his dad's way as he picked up his coat and tied his scarf.
"Already Bob?... Alright. You kids coming?" Helen looked at them as she folded out both her collars. They weren't exactly rushing to get up.
"Actually mom, I need to take a shower. Just look at my hair." Dash made a smooching face behind his parents back directed at Violet, but he still felt insulted by it - Violet flinched at her brother of course, but ultimately held herself back. She then looked to him, expecting him to come up with the greatest lie or excuse he could muster.
"And I... need to get settled in. Look around. I still feel uncomfortable in a strangers home - or else I'll be up all night." Well, it was semi-true.
Bob turned to Violet, then to Helen. "This is a family thing--and also the boy there." The mountain sized man sounded flustered when he threw him into the equation.
Helen spoke in a way that reminded him of Violet, something in the sway of her face... "Bob, we don't need five people to go and find a tree. Besides, Violet can check up on JJ if he wakes up."
His strongjawed seething was palpable.
The front door slammed shut.
Now they were in the cabin. Alone. "Was that intentional? Is she that cool?"
"She can be cool when she wants to be." Violet then invited him to chase her up the stairs, which he did, jokingly swatting at her; one of the few times he heard her gaily guffawing. His fixation on her only breaking when he looked up at the crevice of the attic. Down the hall and to the right, past two doors and to the final one, as she threw it open.
She was already sitting on the edge of her bed, tapping a quilt on the the space beside herself, but as soon as he sat down, she threw him a curveball. "So what'd you get me?"
"Uuuuh..." He scratched the side of his head.
She bumped him above his heart. "I'm kidding."
"Oh..." His voice trailed, his eyes not far behind.
"It was a joke, come on." Her voice was a mixture of sweetness and concern, a seldom sight.
"It's just that... maybe I shoulda brought somethin', I don't know..." He shrugged, non-committal to it.
"I'm your present." She pulled out her headband, her hair falling out of place, as she threw it with abandon, now turning to him with laser focus. "And you're mine."
He felt like an idiot, and wanted to barb her back for it. "You're such a twig, Violet."
Violet took offense at that. "What's wrong with that?"
He was quick to stand, wanting to do damage control. "Nothing, nothing - but look what I can do." He wrapped around her middle, springing her up without any help from her; holding her nearly to the ceiling. Then something seemed to take over, he could see it in her eyes and she could see it in his, as their clothes made a swiping noise as she slid down in his arms, her hands entagling, yanking them into a kiss, which he had to work at staying up for, almost too weak kneed to carry her now, as she raked the back of his head just so that she could reach the end of his mouth with her tongue.
He liked when she tried to eat his face.
He knew Violet and she knew him, as he let go, so did she, and both of them began to strip. He flipped his turtleneck over his head, the arms now acting like cuffs on his hands, unable to look away from Violet showing off her cute little ass as she bent, moving lithely out of her pants, now standing in white, rainbow polka dotted panties, that clung snugly to her form; her naked back almost as exciting as what was on the other side, as she turned, cinching up the elastic, her budding chest pointed, nipples puffy. He could only stupidly grin when she saw him still clothed, as she let her last shred of clothing fall to her ankles.
Violet hopped into bed on all fours, catching a full moon of her firm bum before she dropped, now inviting him with a 'come hither', her dainty fingers motioning like water. His trousers were soon off, and he fell forward in a pretend trip, nearly landing between those spread legs of hers. Her spaghetti legs could never cross together in a way that hid her, always exposed, Violet's pink flower inches from his face; her bare and hairless slit looking as virginal as their first time together.
He climbed up her thin and pale frame, his face landing in the cradle of her shoulder. "ARR ARR ARR" He nibbled her neck, the sound of sputtering half giggles and calls for his name and him to stop emitting from her. He did, as he pushed himself up and stared down, looking at the way her raven hair octopussed out. Her bottom lip stuck out more than the top, a quiver to it, two teeth obscured.
"I love you." Her large eyes sparkled, her hands meekly reaching, wanting to pull him down.
He allowed himself to be taken into her, their bodies pressed tightly, as her visible rib cage prodded him - her heart absolutely racing and like it could jump through at any moment. "I love you, Violet." She was like virgin snow... his snow... and together, they'd match perfectly together at the hips.
Her velvet sheathe accepted his sword; her reaction was a wince and long wet eyelashes. Violet exhaled, as she shook her head, agreeing to more of him. Yet it still felt like she was trying to eject him, her nethers like a vice, so it felt like he was forcing himself into her.
Once he was all the way in, his body began doing less thrusting and more writhing, Violet joining him in his spasms. His inexperience clear, but his love for her was just as obvious. Remembering the mechanics in the heat of the moment, he retracted himself, before starting a volley of humps. Violet bit down into her lower lip, her arms on his shoulders, the bones of her heels digging into his lower back, as if she were a cowgirl using spurs to giddy up her favorite animal.
He loved being Violet's favorite animal.
Then the two most dreaded words he knew were uttered from her soft lips. "Pull out." He pretended he didn't hear her, wanting it to seem like he was in the moment -- but when she said it again, he reluctantly did so. Sitting up, he watched Violet reposition, scooching up to him, her knees splayed wide, almost bow legged. Her doll-like and twinkly toes curled at the base of his length, her face scrunched, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth, looking like she held his erection up with just the balls of her small feet as she applied subtle strokes, and he rocked back into them, not the least bit nervous as the heels of her feet were too petite to do any serious damage, the control of her soles at an expert level now - it was kind of embarrassing to be screwing her like this, and he wanted to just throw her down and-
No. His rational side told him this made sense.
As he looked up to the roof, he burst, relieving himself onto Violet, going from a pour to a drizzle, having been backed up this whole week. Gobs of it landed in pools on her abdomen, which she traced around on her stomach, playing with it. "That's where you want it to go, don't you?" She said while pointing below her tummys button and where he presumed they came from.
"I do, but don't worry: I get it." He said in a mocking tone, which just belied his frustration, while the devil on his shoulder was begging him to impregnate Violet. 'Just do it. What's the worst that could happen?' Or thinking up ways on how to trick Violet into letting him -- but as his brain heat regulated, all that noise in his head began to mute, and as he watched Violet clean herself off with kleenex, noting how careful she was with the stained sheet and its promixity to her pubis, he knew it was the right choice.
He fell at her side, his limpness wiping on her porcelain leg as they snuggled. His eye fell to the frosted window, snow crawling down from the sky. "Baby, it's cold outside..."
She shifted, moving from his chest with closed eyes, now resting her ear on his shoulder. "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..." Her voice drifting lower and lower.
They both looked about ready to sleep.
The front door slammed shut.
In an instant, they both were on the edge of the bed looking at one another, fearful of being caught redhanded. "I have an idea." She ghosted in front of him, and he nearly fell over reaching for her while calling her name in whispers that grew louder as the door to the room slipped open, enough space for her to get through. He picked up his clothes and began dressing, swearing lightly about it.
Stepping out, he realised he put on the sweater backwards, and brought his arms in to rotate it around himself. He did a last minute check as he wandered over to the railing with the feeling that he was a dead man walking.
Bob. Looked. Furious. "Violet! VIOLET!!" He shouted up and past him, looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel, expecting her to emerge from behind him as if by magic.
"Dad, what are you yelling about?" Violet sounding indignant about her fathers anger.
"Ew, gross." Dash covered his eyes looking towards the kitchen area.
He leaned over the bannister, now seeing Violet near the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a pink towel and a body length blue one wrapped around her entire middle.
===================
Sat in front of a crackling fire, Helen watched over them, unable to join in, as she always had whatshisname... Jack Jack, with her, except when she would sometimes check on the food, and she'd leave him to Violet... who didn't look all that bad holding a kid. Helen always had a general lightness to her mood, her barefoot bobbing along to the music from the radio, as they threaded popcorn together for tree decorations. He would sometimes snap the popcorn in two trying to do it, and once when he was about to throw in the towel, Helen offered him an 'aw' and passed him another piece, which made him feel like he had to do more.
Dinner was ready, and after the prayer, they ate; listening and laughing to a record Vi's dad put on about Yogi Bear meeting the Three Stooges. As he stuffed himself silly on the mashed potatoes, he watched Helen over the serving of candied yams while she was hyper focused on her son, feeding him or making faces, an attentive motherly glow that he wished... no, he wasn't jealous. What would he have to be jealous about? In that split second thought, their eyes met for a moment, but barely acknowledging one another. The muscles in his jaw became taut before she asked him if he wanted some stuffing.
Which was great. His mom could cook, but... nothing like this. Mrs. Parr was a different class of woman, and he hoped Violet was learning some of it.
It wasn't just the food though, but the atmosphere. He wasn't part of the family; he could sense that in certain things they did or said or the stories told, but... he was happy to be here. Unlike most of his friends parents, they didn't smoke and used clean language. He felt like he was on the inside of a Sears catalog, and now knowing that this wasn't just made up to sell things, that this happened across America, his usual family get togethers were going to be such a downgrades...
By the time they were done eating, he barely had the strength to move the table and fold out his bed from the couch, the metal middle like a weighted eggroll. Violet looked down at him from the gaps of the bannister, the hall to their rooms just behind her, a desperation to it. He could only blow out his face, before collapsing into bed; landing with a thud, the frame nearly unforgiving.
He knew he was dreaming when the thing he was laying on suddenly got comfortable. Strapped to a stainless steel gurney, he thrashed just to see if he could. A blinding light pointed his way, but it filled the room, and then he saw her: Helen... Elastigirl... was in full costume, emerging from the shadows, the light revealing her. She looked freshly polished, seeing a reflection off the black parts of her costume like it was oil. She extended her arms above, using the rafters, now standing above him, her thigh boots making her seem even taller - he wondered what she was thinking, a mischievous intent behind that domino mask.
Then she sat back, like one would on a lazy Sunday and a recliner underneath. The outside underwear she wore became an obsidian sphere hurdling towards him, colliding with neck breaking ferocity. Like he had given up the ghost, he had an out of body experience, seeing that self satisfaction she had on her face while grinding down into his face, his body looking lifeless. It was then he wondered if this was truly a dream. He had tasted this. He had smelled this -- and it felt so real again.
He awoke early to the smell of something sweet and baking, tossing off his blanket.
He stood behind a counter, looking in on her. He remembered when the kitchen looked and felt barren, and now it was hers. There was an aura she created when she was in it. She opened the kitchen stove, and he experienced the feeling of heat that came with it from where he was standing. He was about to walk off and brush his teeth, when she finally noticed him. "Oh, honey, I hope I didn't wake you. I was just making cookies." She conducted her oven mitt like a puppet on public access. "Do you want to try one?"
With a slouch, he ambled over to her, and seeing the silver tray filled with chippy brown goodness sitting atop parchment paper made him reach for one.
Her teeth grit, sounding confused with his actions. "Honey, you gotta let them cool first."
"It's okay, I like 'em that way." The gooey treat fell to pieces from finger to finger, leaving traces of it everywhere. "So messy, but so good."
"Oh. You got a little something here..." She brought up her white apron to his face, he pulled away a little in embarrassment and on instinct because of who it was, saying he could do it himself, but he eventually let her as she lowered down to one knee. He still had trouble looking her in the eye as she scrubbed his face, catching her tight mouthed determination, and as she began guiding his jaw, reminding him of how she treated Jack Jack, he let his guard down.
That's when she clasped his face, a similar look of longing that she had given him when she was under the influence on that mother's day, before she enveloped him in a passionate kiss - but there was no smell or taste of alcohol to blame here.
He froze up, unsure of what to do. His eyes stayed open the whole time, while Helen's stayed closed, the sound of an appreciative 'mmmmm' reverberated from her mouth and into his.
"Mmmmwah." He stood in a stupor, as Helen shooed him away, telling him to wash up. He listlessly followed her request.
Hand on the knob, he felt another presence. "Bob, could you look after Jack Jack? I'm about to start breakfast soon."
"Sure, hun." He flipped.
"How did I ever live without you?" Instead of a kiss, Helen just carressed a hand on the side of her former husband's face before letting him walk away.
His breath locked as if a black cat just crossed his path, the large father passing by, going back to where he came from. He clutched his chest near the bathroom door, watching Helen bring out the bacon from the sink as he felt his face.
There wasn't chocolate on his lip anymore.
===================
He sat, reading a book called Darker Than Amber. It was a bit simpler than what he usually read at school, but it was a real page turner. Especially without TV. Not that they played shows after eleven PM...
But he was engaging in fiction for more than just entertainment, he was waiting. Planning.
Yesterday, he screwed up bad. Ate too much, and that turkey kicked him to sleep. Not today. They had leftovers from the day before, but he made sure to leave as much as he could on his plate. Violet was going to get a visit on his last night there. He just needed to figure out when...
There were thumping steps.
"Up late?" It was a simple question.
He held the book by the spine and showed Bob the cover, then tipped the book to the cabinet. "Oh uhm, just reading from your collection, sir."
"Hey kid. C'mere." He pointed to the fridge as he let it close behind himself. "Get yourself a soda and drink with me."
"Uh, that's okay sir. I should be in bed anyway." He motioned for the lamp.
"I wasn't asking." He wanted to retreat like a turtle into his shell. He placed the book onto his pillow, its place marked, as he got up and then sat down awkwardly across from Violet's old man. "You were supposed 'ta..." Bob made a move to the fridge, then sat back down, throwing it off with a wave of his hand brushing it off, a little irritated.
"Sir, are you gonna tear my head off?" Literally or not, he wasn't sure when he said it.
His voice was dry. "No, no. I wouldn't want to wake anyone." He took a sip of his beer. "Today's your last day here. In the morning, you'll be out of my hair. So any last minute plans you had of paying my daughter a midnight visit--you're gonna have to put them on hold."
"Excuse me, sir?"
The room shook as Bob stood over the table, his hand down after he had smacked the surface, jump starting him in his seat. "Enough with that sir crap. Believe me, I was your age once; I know the tricks. I know ALL the tricks." He sat back down, rubbing his hand through his scalp and remaining hair. "I don't know where my wife gets the idea to bring you along." He murmured. "She said you needed a positive role model in your life, and it looks to me like you don't need it, seeing as you're trying to screw my daughter and all. Now, I don't know what you did with Violet while we were away - and don't give me some bullspit excuses, because believe me, I'd hate you more if you did - but if I catch even an ear, a hint, a whiff, of what you've done--being out in the snow will be the least of your worries." Bob had the intensity of McQueen, while he felt like the bug eyed guy in The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. "Got it?"
He nervously laughed, but the look on Bob's face made him stop dead in his tracks, clearing his throat now instead. "Loud and clear, big guy." As Bob left him, he sat for awhile, only the sound of fading steps breaking the monotony of his quiet staring at the now empty seat. He didn't know what a hernia was, but he felt like he had one, doubled over the side of the table, looking like he wanted to vomit. He was shaking like a leaf as he made his way back to his bed
Why did he come here? Having dreams about Violet would be better than the real thing right now... okay, maybe not, but he really didn't need this right now. It was just a couple weeks without Violet. He pantomimed his dads smoking, rubbing his eyes fiercely, stopping only when he felt them start to turn red.
He sighed, laying down. What a day... the night came in dark blue, almost purple, through the kitchen knife shaped windows, as he shut the book closed and pushed it away, no longer wanting to read.
He shut his eyes.
As things calmed down, he realised at least one day with Violet was better than nothing. She'd be gone for so long... how could he live without her? He would call her when he could, though he'd hang up if her dad ever picked up.
As he thought about things to talk about with Violet, he was sure he'd fall asleep soon - but instead, he tossed and turned, unable to. Frustrated, his lids opened again - but the dark blue light was muted, shadowed... something... above him.
When he realised what it was, it was too late. He felt like a crash test dummy, his neck cranking. He was surprised she didn't crush his head like a pumpkin being hit by a car. His gasp became vacuum sealed. "MhMeMlMeMnMF" Her name came out in a muffle, her ass pressed so firmly against his lip and tongue that he could taste her skin through her underwear, a tarty ripeness to it.
"When you relax and stay quiet, I'll move." The snide mumble of her familiar accent came, reconfirming who she was, as he struggled and fought, scared to death, a smell overpowering his senses, his legs kicking out, arms and hands struggling over her body, slapping or rubbing her ass or thighs.
There was a moment he got out of it, and she must have heard his inhale, as she pulled on his hair, flattening him out, as she brought her ass back down again, readjusting her position, this time sure he couldn't escape.
He gave in to her demands, his chest slowly rising and falling, but everytime he breathed, he smelled her, and the moistness in his breath had nowhere to go except on his face, which magnified the scents. He imagined the look on her face like the one in his dream - but why? What did she see in this?
Helen moved, and he shot up, the warm perspiration ran cold as soon as she left him, his hair matted to parts of his face, and she still lingered in his nose. He looked and felt like a delirious drunkard.
Looking like she had done nothing wrong, the straps of her baby blue nightie had been pulled down from her soft looking shoulder tops, revealing her heavy and fickle cleavage, the white frills reminding him of a curtain, wrists resting on her large thighs, hands between them. "You've been avoiding me." Her stern voice accusatory.
"Helen... Mrs. Parr." He made sure to emphasize the Mrs. part. "I... love your daughter. I hope you understand why we can't do this." His hand sliced through the air. "Now please go back to your husband."
Her mouth clicked. "Tch. Is that how you really feel?"
"Yes." He was curt, and said it with enthusiasm, leaving no mistake as to his intentions.
She pounced at him.
Landing on the edge of where his feet sometimes hung, she looked like a cat about ready to reach into the fish bowl. "Bob can fuck like a mack truck, but with you..." She brushed parts of his hair out of his face. "That's not what I'm after." She gripped him through his pajama flap. "And I don't think you're after my scrawny daughter, either." As if to prove her point, she raised his flag; making sure the pole was set with a slide of her fist.
Letting him go, she stood up on the mattress, looking like a giant in the room, a venus statue of sex, as her arms crisscrossed at the hem of her sleepwear, lifting it; her tits flopped free.
Now in just her knickers, her slight belly pudge hedging over some of the elastic, he could see her brown forest through the translucent, silky material. She bent over, her movements athletic and smooth, her mature skin becoming taut as her breasts dangled, as she cast off her panties somewhere into the dark. Helen now squatted over him, her middle finger running an inch back and forth, never going knuckle deep, making it slickened by the pink flesh, her index finger running past the coarse looking patches of thatched hair, a lurid display of her labia. "How does it compare to Violets?" If Violet was a slice of pie, Helen was the whole thing - her mound just as intimidating as her ass, unsure which one would be worse to be under... or better.
She turned her back to him, crouching above his middle, her hair peaking from between her legs. As he laid back, prepared, Helen engulfed him entirely as she sat in his lap, and his palms didn't have to go far to try and guide her, her plump and juicy ass facing his way, but even as he tried to wring them, it was hopeless, he had no control as she began to ascend and descend of her own accord; Helen leaned over and their eyes locked, looking at him with a knowing smirk as she knowingly made their skins thwack together. On one hand, it was a little disconcerting, but on the other, he had every favorite part of her in his view, admiring her flexing asshole, the pink color contrasting well with the rest of her body tone. When he first tongued her pucker, he wasn't sure if it was gross or not - now he knew, and he wanted her to sit on his face again, this time without underwear.
Even though he didn't have to, he began pistoning into this chunky, hairy, middle aged woman, like he had gained years of experience of sex under his belt, almost wanting to impress her; meaty whacks resounding throughout the cabin as her cheeks clapped with every bounce of her body. "You're gonna have to come visit me, and forget about Violet. I won't allow you two to be together when I have your baby inside me." What? "You'll have to come over and see your child. You'll have to raise them right." He slowed gradually. "You'll have to drop out of school and get a job to support me." He had imagined doing that for Violet, but his heart sank picturing himself doing that for Helen. "You'll have to accept responsibility, all while I keep it a secret from Bob. Are you ready for all that?" Her thick thighs became even heavier in his mind, unable to push her away, her hips landing against him with debilitating impact.
"N-n-nuh... no?" His high pitch made him sound pathetic, but he was absolutely terrified - so why was the rest of him so willing? Despite the threats, he kept up his pace, as the bed sounded and felt like it break at any moment, squeaking and creaking. "Hngh, hngh, hngh..." He whimpered out as he sat up to wrap his arms around her, yet unable to fully grasp her middle - like he had shrunk in size. His hands made an x, as he took hold of each of her swinging mammaries and prepared to unleash himself into her depths.
He heard her suck air through her teeth. "OooOooOoooh..." Her excited, throaty, hoarse, moan ending in a vocal fry, doing everything in her power to keep quiet, despite the fluttering squeezes from her folds. He came as she orgasmed, and she cradled his head with her palm. "That's right, cum into mommy..." He gave two weak humps into her before finally resting against her shoulder blade, exhausted yet not sweaty, as he only then realised the mistake he made. Being with Violet felt natural. Like they were meant to be. Yet being with the mother of his girlfriend fulfilled a dirty, animalistic desire, as she looked down on him from not only a height perspective, but her stature as an adult woman; while in her care, she wasn't supposed to see him as anything more than just a child - she was supposed to be responsible for him. Not to mention, what if Violet had seen them? There's only so many times 'she forced me to!' was a believable excuse. There was a lot both of them risked to be conjoined like this - but he still wasn't sure if it's what he really wanted.
Drained, he fell out of her naturally. On his back, he watched Helen climb off the bed, hand held over her crotch as her ass jiggled all the way to the bathroom, the light coming on and creeping out from it.
When she was done, she came back and kissed his forehead. "Sleep tight." Tucking him in, she slathered that finger that had been inside her over his dry lips. "And don't let the bedbugs bite."
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It was time to say goodbye. Bob was dead tired and Dash couldn't find a reason to care. It was as chilled a response as the weather. His and Violet's departure barely acknowledging a meeting, his left hand barely rising above his pants pocket, before he turned, a bit more confident as he began walking away. He got in, and they nodded to one another, as Helen gave a wave to her family, the other hand on the wheel.
Once they were past the treeline, Helen stopped the car and they got out; stripping from their winter gear and throwing them into the back seat, wearing something you could call street clothes, the bitter cold nipping him as he pulled on the frostbite of the door handle again, plopping himself back in, the quick cold to warmth waking him up.
She put it into park, and there was a click, as Helen threw back her seat belt with violent disregard, the thing looking like it had enough power to chip the window if it had landed, her movements like a slow moving liquid pouring his way, predatory eyes low, and he was well past the point of pretending anymore. He sat back like a king, as he heard her unzip his pants. Her index fingers and thumbs met together, making an upside down diamond shape, as the slurps and suckles began. Despite the cold of the seat beneath him, the breathy warmth that radiated from Mrs. Parr's hungry mouth kept it up, the back of his neck rolling slack into the plastic feeling head rest, almost so ticklish to the point where he almost had to push her off, but held steadfast, as she knew what she was doing, as it felt like his tip was going to disappear forever everytime she swirled her tongue around the bend.
He fumbled around her back, getting a feel for her ass, squeezing and squishing the flesh of her ass through her pants, before giving each side a smack that she didn't even register, hyper focused on her upcoming morning meal.
As she planted her lips around the base of his erection, he clamped onto her stiff, copper colored and hairsprayed hair as he came into her throat.
Leaving no trace, Helen sat up, adjusting out of place strands and wiping her chin, a firm hand still in his lap, staring down deeply, intimating for a kiss, but his lingering smell made him recoil, his lips hiding, head down, but her soft touch tilted him back, stealing a kiss, a sloppy liplock, pushing her tongue and spit down his throat.
===================
"I'll get it mom!" He yelled, nearly sliding to the door on his socks. It was everything he hoped and prayed for. "Hey Vi."
"Hey you. Merry Christmas." Violet closed the gap, as they exchanged their standard smooches on one anothers faces. With that out of the way, his attention now turned to the thin square wrapped in holiday cheer pressed to her side.
"Are we doing the gift exchanges now? I got you something, don't worry. Saved up my allowance and everything."
"No, it's from..." She gripped it, holding it in front of her face, before dropping it, then finally relinquishing it to him. "You know who wanted me to give this to you. It's technically from the family, but it's technically, mainly, from her." His name was all in pretty curves. It reminded him of Violet's writing.
"It sucks that we didn't get to spend Christmas eve together like last time." He gestured with the present back into the house. "Mom wanted us to do it together this year. You know, see the family and do the standard under the tree thing."
"Yeah, and dad made it real clear what he thought of you." She pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed. "Had so many arguments with him about you."
He stepped aside. "You wanna come in? Mom would love to see ya."
Violet thought about it, but shook her head. "No, I'm not even supposed to be here."
"Okay. Let me get my coat and I'll walk you home."
She shrugged. "No... dad might see you."
"Y'sure?" She nodded her head once, then started running. On the cement path, she waved to him. He moved to do it as well, but she wasn't even looking his way now. He leaned out the door from the inside, watching Violet get smaller and smaller. He pressed his left sock into the snow, already feeling it start to melt, before she was totally obscured by other homes.
He let the outside door close as he stood in the frame, an onomatopoeia of rips and tears followed.
It was a family photo - the kind you got at the mall - but it was a nice looking one - nobody making faces, standing in front of a painted background of lush, green pine trees, all of them in Christmas colored sweaters, and sat in the middle of everyone was Helen on a chair, bouncing two baby boys on each knee, one older than the other.
A new addition to their family, a son just as blond as Bob.
He felt relieved.
There was no way what he did would ever get back to him.
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Spending Mother's Day with Mrs. Parr