Betty with a Capital B

I am an older man who rode the short yellow bus being Dyslexic with a speech impediment. My Grammarly has helped a great deal as have the editors who have helped. Everyone is over 18.

Betty with a capital B.

Wow, what fun at the Christmas party, it did not turn out quite like I had planned, but what does in my life. I should start my tale a few days back. It was the night of the high school talent contest that none of us went to. My baby Sister Betty whom I call a bitch because that was how she rolled most days. She burned bridges like Dad did cigarettes. How did she do this? Was it just a brother-sister thing? No, but she got me grounded for her sneaking into the house.

The B(see above) just broke my window to get in the house. She woke me up and dragged me into the hall, pulling my shorts down as she went into her room at 3 am screaming. “Dan, why are you showing me your dick, you pervert!”

I was stunned, Dad rushed into the hall from downstairs, fully dressed, and started beating my twenty-year-old ass pretty bad. My soon-to-be nineteen-year-old Sister’s birthday is weeks away, December the twenty-fourth.

My drunk Sister laughed and fell over; drunk Dad smelled of Gin, and wait, why was he dressed at two am? My Mom came out dressed in her bathrobe and stopped Bob, my Dad, from beating on me. He cuts quite a figure in his black suit. He stands an inch above me and says he is six foot five, but I am six foot two. Nothing with Dad adds up, but it never did. Mom wants to know why my Sister is drunk on the floor, passed out smelling like Gin, and when my Mom Jill got close to my Dad, she held her nose. Mom sent me to my room, and Bob went to Betty; picking her off the floor, she woke up.

Betty says. “There you are, baby. We got time for part two?”

My Mom came into my room, saw the window, and says. “Sorry, I’m not buying this for a second it looks like your Sister framed you, and just like the cake incident, it looks like you be grounded again.”

As you turned to go back to Betty’s room.

I hear Mom and Dad talking; it must be loud if I listen to it with two doors closed. So I lay down and thought, how did I get stuck again? What have I done to deserve this? Was it keeping my hot Sister’s body in my mind as I stoke it out? She’s six foot flat-footed, one hundred and forty pounds bright blue eyes, blond hair, and a 3.0 grade average. With a perfect hourglass figure, but that burning bridges thing haunts her. She goes through a few boyfriends a month; if it goes on any longer, she will have to look at other towns for her dating pool.

I would rather die before I let on. I thought my Sister was smoking hot. Now tell my hot Mom she was hot and was often a fantasy telling her would lead to the bedroom. I never figured out what my Sister and Dad were doing during this, but like I said just a dream. My Mom, Jill, with cute short red hair. She stands five foot nine and weighs one hundred and twenty-five pounds, with an hourglass figure with fuller breasts in 38 D than my Sister’s. My Mom Jill’s eyes are green, and they sparkle when you are interested in what’s going on.

I heard the fight but could not say what the words were. It was at last over; it lasted an hour. Dad slept in his office on his pull-out couch. I go downstairs for coffee unable to sleep, and Mom is wearing a bathrobe when she wants to be warm and not be romantic. I’m grounded for life; maybe telling Mom I have her back is worth a shot. We both got 3.9s in school; we both saw and heard what we heard. I woke an hour early than normal my room got like ice because of the broken window stuffing a newspaper in the opening got cold.

I walk up behind you and wrap my arms around you. A mix of hand placement made it less son-like and more man-woman thing. I smell you; it flashes home to me. I rub my cheek on your neck; I hear a tiny moan. As your hand holds my arm, one is on your waist and the other near your breast. Brushing against my hand was a slight moan as your hand made mine clime up to more of the swell of your breast.

I softly say. “Morning Jill, it was a hell of a night. I was not buying Dad’s story, and what the B said clenched it. Since B got her hooks into Dad, I was grounded for life. If that’s the case, I rather do something worth being grounded for.”

I gently turned my Mom to me; a glance showed your neck red, just like when my ex and I would get turned on kissing, your neck looked the same.

Mom says. “You bad boy think you can get away with some grab-ass with your old Mom?”

I say. “Thank you, Mom and Jill; you have made my life worth living. Nothing my Dad can do or that Bitc… of a Sister could do that. But you Mom with a kind word or a hand on my shoulder. It went a long way to improving my life. You give me strength making it bearable, Jill. You give me happiness. I love you, Mom.”

I took your chin in my hand, lifted your face to mine, and listened for a second to your breathing. Yours matched mine. I leaned in halfway and stopped waiting to see if you moved forward. You did our lips touch. My pulse beat faster as our lips both moved. I slipped a tongue in, and you raised up to press our lips together tighter. We kissed not as Mom and Son, but you know, lovers.

I say. “Now, this was worth it. This was worth being grounded grabbing, that hot ass of yours. I saw no way of winning.”

I’m moving my hands on you in neutral territory; only my Mom is no one-night stand.

You move my hand up on your breast, and I find your nipple growing hard to your soft moans. Then, we heard Betty coming down the stairs, and we broke apart. First, I began drying the dishes that Mom was washing from last night, another chore that Betty missed. Then, I told a joke, so we laughed because we had both heard it last night from Dad at dinner.

The laugh hid my Mom’s red neck and her I’ve just been fucking kissed look as I ate the breakfast burritos Mom made when she got up. Betty poured a cup, grabbed a plate, and texted someone as you went back upstairs. When I heard a phone ring in the dining room. I dried my hands and went to see if it was mine. Mine had been missing since dinner last night.

I go look, and nope, not mine, but it’s blowing up with texts that read. “We got to do that again. Your so big inside of me.”

It’s Dad’s phone; the dumb-ass has mine. So I ran to the kitchen, sent the texts, photos, and screenshots to my cloud, changed it back, showed Mom the images and texts, and cleared the history.

I say. “Please, Jill, don’t say anything. If you do, Dad will rabbit with the cash. I think he planning something with Betty. I erased the history up to when Dad lost it last night, taking mine with him. I plug it into the Bluetooth and set it to charge the speaker; the battery will die. Dad will find his phone in the den, and he will return mine. I’m not sure if he is smart enough to know how to erase history. I mean, the digital clock in his truck still flashes 12:00.”

Mom says. “I want to kill him, but your right. He would run. Can you load a flash drive of the videos? You think they are of the two of them. You can check the cloud from your laptop?”

I say. “Easy to do; they made videos. I can play spy and follow them to a hotel. Take my Canon and get a few shots of them. I have your back, Mom.”

I took a hot coffee and got another Mom kiss as I went to my room and the cloud. I have to say Damn. The videos were porn worthy, and If I was big as shit as my Sis, I put them on the internet and made bank.

I went downstairs to Dad pouring coffee, and he says. “My phone was in the upstairs bathroom; take better care of it. It’s not meant for water.”

I ran up the stairs; that shit did not know how to delete his history. Damn, my phone was in the sink bubbles were drifting to the top. I heard Dad’s rolling coal truck pulling out and rattling the windows as he left.

I went downstairs with my repair tools and took my old phone. It needed a charge, so I grabbed it and went and sat at the breakfast bar plugging it on a charger.

I sat so I could see if B coming and say to Mom. “Jill, I have the thumb drive. It has thirty videos, a few hundred semi-nudes, and gross dick picks he sent to her. Now brace yourself. It’s been going on since last year been reading their texts. It’s all on the drive better call your lawyer now but don’t do it where you can be heard. Do it now; plane tickets are booked for the day after Christmas.”

Mom stepped outside with her coffee, and she asked after the call. “Could I take her? She hates driving in town?”

We loaded up our coffees and water. I put the phone in rice, took out the battery first, and waited for the old phone to be charged; it took the same cards. It was a short drive through the most affluent part of town. Most were putting Christmas things up or had them up already.

I waited in the lawyer’s office waiting room and then in a room full of his team.

I say. “My Dad had my phone all last night, and he took videos and pics with my phone. I’m pulling it apart, waiting for my backup phone to charge, and the sim cards are drying out. I will drop them to you as soon as I get back home. I have all the photos, text, and videos I have them on a flash drive.”

A team worked on the papers within ten minutes, and the lawyer says. “It will cost more, but we can do this. You can hand him his walking papers; it’s seven days until the party.”

We stopped at a park and held you as you cried. I kissed your tears away and rubbed your shoulders. We looked at each other Mom trembled in my arms, but that was the same look as we kissed. We got home to an empty house. There was a note from Betty. “Spending Friday night over at Susan’s.” It read.

Mom fell to the couch. She flipped the TV on. I took your heels off and slid the footstool over. I rubbed your feet as you found some scary movie for us. Then, you started some cartoon with a wacko scientist and his grand kid.

I say. “Hot soup and my grilled cheese and bacon sandwiches? You want red or white with that?”