Honey I’m Home! Pt. 01

Literotic asexstories – Honey I’m Home! Pt. 01 by Catcher78,Catcher78 Honey I’m home! Part one.

Copyright Catcher78 all rights reserved.

Everyone getting fucked in this mostly fictional story is eighteen or over.

I turned eighteen June before the start of my Junior year, prolly should have graduated last spring, but Daddy and my mother held me back and then I struggled with reading and all in the first grade and they held me back. Turns out I was dyslexic which meant I jumbled up the letters in my head and it was confusing for me. I’m Kerri Ericksen.

I walked home from school about three blocks. I’d bring home the notes from Miss Moran the teacher about how badly I was doing, she’d sit me in the corner with four boys from the orphanage which was two blocks from Coe Elementary.

The boys didn’t wash much, once a week if I was guessing, maybe there was not much soap to go around. They were older. I mean I was seven, but they were nine or ten in the first grade, Robert Nash and Jimmy Grant. They mostly stared out the windows.

Robert would say hi back when I said hi to him, polite like. Jimmy had lice and they crawled out of his shirt sleeves and I saw them on his crew cut hair. One Monday he was gone. I asked Miss Moran where he was and she told me to mind my own business.

I came home after school, it was a nice fall day and the front door was open, the wood one, we had a wood screen door with mesh to let air in but no flies up top. The door had this black piece of rubber connecting the door jam to the screen door so it would automatically close.

I slipped in and slowly let the screen door nest without making noise. Mother was on the phone with one of those wall mounted phones with the long cord, which allowed her to walk around the kitchen. She was wearing a cotton dress with green pumps and there was a white apron that was just below her massive chest. As always she had a cigarette between her very red lips, which left the cigarette filter covered with lipstick and had a cup of coffee that she somehow held, keeping the cigarette between her middle and forefinger, while drinking the coffee.

I was being as still as possible, she was talking with one of her bridge friends and giggling. She never laughed in those days, let alone giggled.

She said, “He’s incredible, as big as a horse, he picks me up, ” and she went on, “up against the wall.”

“Three times this week and it’s Wednesday and Bill is going to take the boys fishing Saturday and Sunday. I have to figure out something to do with Kerri this weekend, my mom maybe. Bill’s not said a thing, her hair is almost platinum. Once a week, I sit on his face and suck him off. I don’t want to break up the family, this is perfect.”

She hung up the phone and I snuck upstairs. I hid under an old army surplus sleeping bag on the far side of the bed. Listening for her coming upstairs, cause if she found me there would be bad times, she kept switches off the plum tree to whip me when she felt like I needed it. I was seven then.

She did come up and looked around and I took baby breaths not to be heard through my nose. From my two older brothers talking I knew that sleeping around meant someone besides Daddy. I was thinking that my platinum hair meant really bad things.

Bill Jr. and John were playing ball for the high school. Football for the Grizzlies. Bill was six foot four and well over two hundred pounds and he’d had red hair and freckles, but now his face was starkly white and his hair was very dark brown. Lee had tight kinky brown hair and he was five foot ten and weighed one hundred and sixty pounds. He was slow and small and oh so very angry. If I said anything to anyone it would be Bill Jr.

Bill and Lee were both gone and married when I turned eighteen. I had turned into a pretty good student once the reading thing got figured out, the special needs teacher was so sweet and kind to me and it was really a joyful period of discovery for me.

I still had the platinum hair and blue eyes and Mom was still carrying on. I was a pretty good track performer. Multiple events, cross country, long jump and the high jump. Cross country was in the fall and the jumping stuff in the spring. The jumping workouts were easy and my focus was on technique and in some ways similar almost eighty percent about the approach and twenty percent sticking the finish. I also really was emphasizing my flexibility, stretching and yoga. Some warmup running depending on how cold it was really, eight hundred meters to sixteen hundred meters (two to four laps) depending on if was warm, windy or raining. Spring in Seattle.

Cross country, five thousand meters was in the fall. This was probably my strength, as I was six foot one. My body shape was like I had the legs for somebody who was six foot three, so my stride was out of this world for a high school girl. I worked at it too.

In July after my eighteenth birthday, I had returned from a distance camp run by the University of Oregon for teenagers that might be special. It’s basically a spoofed recruiting event. I obliterated the five thousand meter record which was fifteen minutes twenty five seconds by running a fifteen minutes and seven seconds, handheld not allowable for a record, but I had run it. Everyone behind me was fifteen forty or worse.

My strategy was get out and in front with my stride, there were other famous women’s runners from the Seattle area that were huge at ten thousand meters, which might be my place ultimately. I thought Eugene was an arm pit of a place and campus. Nice training facilities. I was approached by a representative for a large Oregon shoe company saying that my family would get three hundred thousand dollars if I went to Oregon. I needed to talk with my parents, especially Daddy.

Without the money, I thought UCLA, University of San Diego and then Cal State Long Beach.

I rode back with my running coach, Mrs. Brown who’d actually run in the Olympics, but she was in remission from cancer treatment and had shrunk into herself. Her voice was firm though. She would say Kerri, listen to me, you must be strong in all things, your mind and body. You like to train, which is eighty percent of what is going on from now on. Stick to it, but eat right and hydrate and eat good stuff, okay?”

“Mrs. Brown?”

“Yes?”

“Well, my homelife is not very good. I gave the nutritional stuff you gave to my mother. She said to me, Go tell Mrs. God-fucking Brown to buy the fucking God damn food and cook it for you. Food’s ready at five fifteen. You’re never here then, so I give it to the dog.”

“What do you eat, ” she asked.

“Peanut Butter and banana sandwiches with a piece of cheddar cheese. Two of them. Milk. Oatmeal in the morning. I go through the lunch line, Mrs. Stephas feeds me. She does that for a lot of poor kids, mostly people in sports.”

“You’re poor?”

I nodded. “Daddy works, sometimes he makes good money, he sells insurance.”

“Does your mom work?”

I didn’t say anything for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Well a couple of times a month, she goes downtown and goes to I-Magnin”s and buys the undies and bras she hides in the basement. I don’t know how she pays for it, but I know she sleeps with a lot of men. I think she might be getting paid for it. A few years ago I overheard her talking to a friend about how Daddy was clueless about whoever my real dad was.”

I’m not sure when the tears started, first it was just free flowing from my eyes, then I curled up on the seat and my body got involved and I was struggling to breath, my ribs and chest and stomach hurt.

We went to this restaurant to get a meal. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I brought some sandwiches and had them when people fell asleep, last night.”

It was a place just outside of Portland and they had stuff I’ve never had, they had hamburgers, but not like the fried in bacon grease one quarter inch thick versions at home. People ate salads. I had homemade cold slaw. I hate mayonnaise. She kept it open in the cupboard. I caught food poisoning from that crap (do you catch food poisoning? Or are you poisoned?) I put ketchup and black pepper on it.

Thinking about cold slaw meant I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have any money.

The waitress asked me what I wanted. I panicked and finally I said, “I’m not hungry, water would be nice.”

Mrs. Brown asked the waitress to come back. She looked at me and said, “Order what you want.”

“I don’t know, I mean I’ve never had any of this, I mean on the menu, ” then I leaned towards her and whispered, “Mrs. Brown I don’t have any money I can’t pay for this.”

She looked at me with the saddest look on her face and said, “It’s on me I’m paying. I must eat now.”

I was literally paralyzed with my mouth open.

She put her hand on mine and said, “Just let’s pretend that I’m your mom and you’re my daughter and we’re out for a lovely night.”

I closed my eyes and there were more tears.

I said, “Mama, please get me something you’d think I’d like. I don’t know this stuff. I trust you.”

I stared at her and then said, “Please oh please, can I pretend you’re my mom forever?”

“I will order for you Kerri, it will be good. But, I have to tell you something after dinner okay?

She ordered for me a hamburger with cheddar and bacon and an extra order of fries and then for dessert blackberry crumble with ice cream. It was incredible. I was actually humming while I chewed.”

“Well I never ever, that was sooo good, mom. Thank you,” she smiled at me, “Mom I love you with all my heart, can we go back in time?”

She said, “I love you too, Kerri. I want to hold off on our discussion until tomorrow, okay?

I nodded and felt literally the best in my whole life.

She pulled up at the intersection on the corner up one house from my parent’s home. I leaned over and gave her a hug. She ruffled up my hair and I was out the door with my bag.

Daddy’s car was not in front of the house, but there was a black Cadillac. The front door was locked. As far as I knew nobody had a key. I walked around the north side of the house. There was a door that opened up to a landing on a stair well from the basement to the kitchen. It was open.

Just like the first grade I was quiet. I walked carefully up the stairs and listened. There was no noise from the kitchen. I slowly opened the door and came into the kitchen. There was a mess in the sink.

I could hear voices and I turned right towards the front door and my mom’s baritone voice was groaning and it sounded like she was getting slapped repeatedly, “smack, smack, smack” and it was continuous.

It was really hurting her, she was groaning and screamed, “Sweet Jesus don’t stop!”

Then I was watching her and some guy having sex. I had seen some porn at a friend’s house. My mom had on her special lingerie and her red high heels were locked behind the mystery man’s neck. He had platinum white hair. Oh my goodness.

“Oh my God! Daddy, finally we get to meet! You’re the guy mother fucked while she was cheating on Daddy. What do I call you? “Bio-dad” or “Mother didn’t make him pay daddy” or how about “Hung Like a Horse Daddy”, help me out big guy.”

“Show me that big dick daddy, I’m eighteen now, is it still incest?”

“Daddy get off that fat tub of jiggly goo.”

“Come fill up this young tight cunt!”

“Obviously, you’re hung like a horse, isn’t that kind of icky? There’s been more dick in that huge sloppy cunt than people that live on the hill here. Boys and girls at school ask me to get her to stop fucking their mom or dad. Her mom caught Chlamydia from her, you might want to get tested and go to the bathroom there and wash that tool off. Not sure if it’s not too late though. Put a hat on that oar, next time you want dive into the Pacific Ocean.”

“Baby DOES want to fuck her daddies, but probably want to see a test with a date after today. BTW daddy, has she paid any income tax for being Queen Anne Hill’s best known whore?”

I turned and went into my bedroom and bolted the door shut and was safe, except for the noise violation that was surely to come.

“Come back here, finish me, ” the front door slammed shut.

“Get out here you fucking little cunt,” she was pounding on my door, why not?

I opened the door and looked down at her. I was six inches taller than her and got close to her. She took a half step back and raised her arm as it she was going to strike me. I reached over and grabbed her wrist on the raised wrist and spun her around. I changed hands and pulled her wrist up towards her shoulder blades.

“Ow, ow, stop you’re hurting me,” I pulled it up higher.

Mother shrieked, “Don’t oh God, I’m sorry.”

“Is he my biological dad, she didn’t answer, I pulled harder.

“Yes, God yes, you’re hurting me, stop.”

“What’s his name?”

“Lasse Erickson, with an “O” not “E”.

“I fucked him. I was/am a hooker. Since I was eighteen. We went out when your dad and I were first married.”

“Where’s daddy?”

“He caught me last week, we’re getting divorced.”

End part one Honey I’m home.

Coming soon Kerri and daddy get closer.