Bully’s Mom Pt. 01

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Author’s Note

If you’re looking for a story with monster cocks and big breasted women with plump asses, then you might want to skip this one. This is basically the tale of two “losers” who come together. The woman is decidedly average in looks. She’s short and skinny with smaller tits and a flat ass, and her lover is scrawny with what might charitably be described as an average sized cock.

Originally, I intended to tell this story in one chapter, but it quickly grew longer than I anticipated, so it will be split out into at least one additional chapter that should appear sometime in the (relatively speaking) near future.

Comments and constructive feedback are always appreciated.

*****

Bully’s Mom: Part 1

“You’re such a dumb bitch. No wonder dad left you. You’re always against me, always taking the other side. I’m tired of putting up with your crap.”

Sandy sighed helplessly as her son, Brad, stormed off and slammed his bedroom door closed behind him. She was standing near tears in the hallway, holding the official warning letter sent home from school informing that her son was assigned detention for a week as punishment for bullying another student.

His insults cut deep, like a knife tearing into old wounds. It frustrated her to no end that Brad seemingly inherited all his deadbeat father’s worst traits. It killed her that her own flesh and blood, her son, served as a constant reminder of the biggest mistake in her life, namely, her failed relationship with his father, Parker.

Brad was ignorant, self-centered, and ill tempered, just like Parker had been throughout their turbulent three-year affair. And those character traits only fueled his worst behaviors, including his belittling abuse that always placed the blame with others for his misfortune.

Parker was good looking in high school, and Sandy was blinded by his chiseled features when she began dating him shortly after graduation. Her parents and friends had all warned her that he was bad news, but she was convinced that he was misunderstood and a good man at his core. She knew he was a little rough around the edges, but she was convinced she could soften his tough guy persona.

They moved in together, and Sandy became pregnant shortly after, but she quickly realized that changing Parker was an exercise in futility. She wistfully recalled her mother’s constant warning, ‘Men marry a woman hoping she’ll never change. But women marry men hoping that he will.’

After three years, Parker had cheated on her repeatedly and left her penniless with a toddler to raise on her own while he skipped town and moved in with a blonde skank. Ashamed, she moved back in with her parents, who helped raise Brad while Sandy worked full time and put herself through college part time, determined to make a better life for herself and her son. She eventually earned her degree and forged a career path that enabled her to move out of her parent’s house and buy a small three-bedroom bungalow on her own, where she and Brad still lived to this day.

The house was modest, but it represented independence and success to Sandy. Frustratingly, Parker inherited his father’s thriving business when his parents passed away at a relatively young age. The business largely ran itself, and he just collected the profits. After a short while, he moved into a gated community and began living a much more luxurious life. Even though he flaunted his wealth, Sandy refused to pursue any child support from Parker, and he gladly refused to offer any.

Parker was content to be a deadbeat dad, but nevertheless, Brad seemingly found no fault with his father. He held him up on a pedestal, admiring his large estate, European cars, and endless string of beautiful girlfriends. Brad blamed his mother for their relatively poor living conditions compared to his father, even though his father refused to lift a finger to help him.

It frustrated Sandy to no end that she provided shelter and made sure that Brad was fed, but her ex only invited Brad to come over for the occasional meal, not even giving him a room on his estate or letting him stay overnight. Nevertheless, he poisoned Brad’s view of her mother, constantly pointing his litany of complaints against her, even though she refused to ever utter a bad word to their son against him.

As Brad got older, he even physically grew similar to his father. Whereas Sandy was barely five foot tall and a hundred pounds, Brad stood 6’2″ and a stout 200 pounds. She tried to love him, but Sandy resented the fact that her own son served as a constant reminder of her own poor judgement 18 years ago.

Now 37 years old, she wondered how her life had ended up like this. She sat down at the kitchen table as she reread the letter from school for the hundredth time. She knew the kid he had bullied. His name was Fletcher, and he lived two blocks away. Brad had constantly berated and bullied the poor boy ever since the first year of middle school when they bought their home and moved into the neighborhood.

It sickened her escort kadiköy knowing that her son bullied the poor kid. Fletcher was smaller, maybe 5’4″ with slumped shoulders and a scrawny frame that made him a physically easy target for a hefty boy like Brad. By all indications, Fletcher was a quiet but polite young man who didn’t deserve the constant barrage of insults and physically rough treatment that Brad subjected him to.

Sandy felt a certain guilt and responsibility for Fletcher’s pain. She felt helpless to stop the abuse. Heck, she couldn’t even get Brad to treat herself with a modicum of decency, so what hope did she have to convince him to treat anyone else with respect? Getting Brad to apologize for his behavior was a lost cause, but perhaps she could at least express her remorse and sympathy for her son’s actions.

Guilt stricken, she decided her best recourse was to pay Fletcher a visit and offer a heartfelt apology for her son’s misdeeds.

*****

15 minutes later, she was standing at the front door to Fletcher’s house. She walked the two blocks, trying to figure out the words she would say to him, but her mind was a jumbled mess. Sighing, she looked up to the heavens, praying for divine intervention to deliver the words to her tongue as she pressed the doorbell.

After ten seconds with no response, she was about to turn away and leave when the door swung open, but instead of Fletcher, she was confronted by the sight of an older short-haired blonde woman she assumed was Fletcher’s mother.

“Who the hell are you?” she ranted.

“I – I’m Sandy. I live a few blocks over, but I think my son, Brad, bullied your son.”

The blonde-haired woman was indignant. “Lot of nerve you’ve got showing your face around here.”

“I’m sorry for my son’s behavior,” she tried to apologize.

“Wonder where he gets it from? You must be a rightful bitch yourself,” she scolded her. The blonde-haired woman looked about 5’7″ and 140 pounds as she stood barefoot in the doorway, but the door was three steps above ground level where Sandy timidly stood, and the blonde-haired women might as well have been ten feet tall with the way she seemingly towered over Sandy’s cowering body.

Sandy was clearly flustered, and she felt herself shrinking before Fletcher’s mother. “I’m sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to make amends, or at least extend apologies for my son’s awful behavior.”

“Well, then maybe you should’ve raised him right,” the woman berated her. “I hardly blame him. I’m sure he’s just a product of his environment. Besides, my boy needs to learn to be a man and stand up for himself. He just lets that miscreant of yours push him around. He needs to grow a pair, but instead I’m left dealing with a sniveling mess of a kid who’s failing some of his classes because he can’t seem to focus on his studies.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea,” Sandy replied, crestfallen.

“Of course not. If he doesn’t get an ‘A’ on his final exam for business, he might fail the semester. And if he fails that, he’s in danger of not graduating. And then what? Then he’s stuck living at home forever living off my meager paycheck. Thanks a lot.”

Sandy’s heart faltered, but then an idea came to her. “I have a degree in business. Please, I want to help. What if I tutored him? Maybe I could help him pass his business class and graduate?” she offered.

Fletcher’s mother eyed her suspiciously. “I ain’t got no money. I can’t pay you. What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing, I just want to make it right,” Sandy insisted. “I know my son mistreated Fletcher. Please, it’s the least I could do.” Sandy forced a smile, hoping to break through the blonde-haired woman’s hard exterior.

She eyed Sandy with a steely gaze. “Fine. The name’s Lisanne. You can come back here the same time tomorrow and begin tutoring him. I’ll tell Fletcher so he knows to expect you, but you’d better not be lying, or I swear to God, you’ll regret it.”

Before Sandy could react, Lisanne slammed the door in her face, leaving her shell shocked and wondering if she wouldn’t end up regretting her gesture of goodwill.

*****

“Where the fuck is dinner?”

Sandy had just walked back in the house when Brad’s voice thundered from the kitchen.

“What kind of mother are you?” he complained.

“There’s some spaghetti in the fridge,” she groaned, mentally exhausted after her confrontation with Lisanne and unwilling to confront her combative son.

“I’ve had that the past two nights. I’m tired of leftovers,” he fumed. He proceeded to grab her purse off the counter and pulled out her wallet. “I’m going to get some take out,” he decided as he pulled out a twenty dollar bill and tossed the wallet back in her purse. Then he promptly turned around and walked out the front door.

Lisanne seethed inside as she balled up her fists and screamed out her frustration. She felt helpless and hated herself for not standing up to him. She hated that she let him walk all over her. She hated escort bayan that she felt like a failure as a mother. She hated how her son bulled her and others. She hated how Brad’s father had a bigger house and more money when she worked twice as hard. She hated how her son reminded her so much of his father and all his worst traits. She hated the fact that she hated her own flesh and blood, her own son.

*****

Sandy laid awake in bed that night. She was desperate to make amends for her son’s transgressions, but Lisanne had been so confrontational, Sandy worried that she was making a mistake in tutoring Fletcher. Still, guilt over her son’s actions ate away at her, and she needed to at least attempt to make it right.

Sandy’s frustrations were boiling over. As much as Brad caused her consternation, she hated herself even more. She hated that she was always a pushover, never standing up to her son and just letting him carry on with his impudent behavior.

She felt sympathy for Fletcher, although she knew next to nothing about him except that he looked shy and unassuming. She had seen him around the neighborhood, but she had never spoken to him.

Brad always referred to him as a dweeb and a loser, but she knew her son’s judgement of others was suspect. After all, he was convinced that his own mother was a failure, although some days she felt that way. Sandy closed her eyes and tried to sleep. After all, tomorrow was a new day, and maybe she could take the first step in making things right.

*****

Sandy stood before the door to Lisanne’s house. She rang the doorbell and then patiently waited at the bottom of the steps. The curtains on the front window rustled as someone peeked out, and then seconds later, the door creaked open. A small scraggy boy appeared in the doorway. He had a mess of brown hair on top and penetrating dark eyes.

“You’re Brad’s mom?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes. I’m Sandy,” she responded. “Your mother said you could use some help in your business class. I could try to tutor you, if you’d like?”

The boy pushed the screen door open and then stepped back. “Come on inside,” he waved.

Sandy grabbed the screen door and held it open as she climbed the three concrete steps and entered the home.

Inside was dark. The carpet was worn and dated. The décor was haphazard and tacky.

“Sorry, we don’t normally get visitors, so the house is a mess,” he explained.

The counters and tabletops were filled with trinkets, unopened mail, and random objects never properly stored away.

He led her to a kitchen table and offered her a seat. “Let me grab my books. We can work here, if that’s alright.”

“That’ll be fine. I’ll wait for you right here,” Sandy replied.

Fletcher disappeared down a hallway while Sandy studied the room. The kitchen linoleum tile was coming up at the edges, and the laminate countertop was marred, and the top layer was coming apart in places. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink.

“Where’s your mother?” Sandy asked as Fletcher returned.

“Oh, she works second shift. But she also works the weekends, so her days off are in the middle of the week. That’s why she was home yesterday, but she’s back to work today.”

“I see.”

“Do you actually know this stuff?” Fletcher asked as he opened his textbook.

Sandy flipped through the pages in the book, scanning the text, and her anxiety diminished as she found an easy familiarity with the material.

“Yes, my degree is in business, so this is in my wheelhouse,” she answered confidently.

She began carefully going over the material with Fletcher. He initially got terms confused and didn’t understand the relationships between different variables, but Sandy patiently explained each detail point by point and broke down the concepts into simple terms. After a while, she saw the light going off in his head as the material slowly began to make sense and he began to piece it all together. Her poise grew as Fletcher’s eyes lit up with each new detail he internalized. He was an eager pupil, and she was grateful for his willingness.

“That’s the first time any of this made any sense to me,” Fletcher marveled after they turned past the last page on the lesson.

“it’s easy when you’ve got a motivated student. It’s actually a pleasure teaching someone who actually listens. Brad never – ” but Sandy stopped as Fletcher’s face darkened at the mention of her son’s name.

“I’m sorry. I guess it’s the elephant in the room, as they say,” she apologized.

Fletcher turned to face her, but his face went blank as he swallowed the pain. “It’s nothing,” he said, as he brushed aside her concern.

“I’m sorry my son’s a horrible person,” she declared, to Fletcher’s shock. “I know he bullies you, and it’s not fair. I know how it feels. He does the same to me.”

“Really?” Fletcher reacted with incredulity. “But you’re nis mother.”

Sandy sighed. “I know, right? That’s why I feel guilty over how he treats you, I wanted to do anything I could to atone escort ataşehir for his sins. That’s why I offered to tutor you. But I didn’t raise Brad to be that way. He’s too much like his father. He doesn’t listen, and he doesn’t care about anything I say. Everything is always my fault, and nothing I do is ever good enough for him.”

“My mother treats me the same way,” Fletcher forlornly admitted.

“She can come across a little harsh,” Sandy responded as she recalled Lisanne’s abrasive greeting when she answered the door yesterday, “but I’m sure she cares deeply and only wants the best for you.”

“You don’t know her like I do,” Fletcher insisted. “Nothing I do is ever good enough. Ever since I turned 18, she’s been threatening to kick me out of the house. She says I’m a man now, and I should be bigger and stronger, so I can take care of her to pay her back for her taking care of me my whole life.”

“You’re a smart kid,” Sandy observed. “You’ve got a lot of potential. You learned this material so quickly today. I don’t understand why you’re in danger of not graduating high school.”

Fletcher just shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. School doesn’t always come easy to me. I used to ask my mom for help when I was younger, but she’d just yell at me to study harder. I tried, but it didn’t help.”

“There’s an old saying about the definition of insanity, about how you can’t just keep doing the same thing and expect different results,” Sandy mused.

“Yeah, it’s like I was banging my head against a wall,” he agreed. “So, I just give up easily if I don’t understand the material. It’s like, what’s the point?”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that. You’re a good kid. I’m happy to tutor you if it’d help with any of your classes. Finals are next week, right?” she asked, remembering that Brad was taking his finals that week.

Fletcher nodded his head in understanding. “This has actually been fun. I never thought I’d call studying fun, but you’re a pretty cool woman. And yes, finals are next week. I think I could still use more help. I need to make sure I do well on this test to pass the class and graduate, so maybe we can study tomorrow night again?”

“Tomorrow is Friday night,” Sandy gently reminded him.

Fletcher looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you already have other plans.”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t – have any plans. I just thought…. most kids are looking to take a break from school on the weekend.”

Fletcher’s face went from hopeful to downcast.

“But if you’d like, I’d love to do this again,” Sandy offered.

Fletcher’s face beamed, and he practically leaped across the table and gave her a hug. Sandy was startled by his sudden movement, but she relaxed as he kept a tight grip on her.

The hug lingered, but it seemingly came from such a pure and innocent place that she wrapped her arms around Fletcher and squeezed back before they broke the embrace. Then she picked up her purse and got up from her seat.

Fletcher showed her to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said hopefully.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she smiled back.

*****

Sandy still had a smile on her face when she walked in the front door to her house, pleased that she made a positive impact on someone’s life.

“Where’ve you been?” Brad scowled at her, and Sandy’s face immediately turned to a frown.

She panicked, knowing how her son would react if he knew she’d spent the past few hours with Fletcher.

“Nowhere. I just had to run some errands,” she fibbed.

“It doesn’t look like you bought anything?” Brad replied with suspicion.

“I was dropping off some Amazon returns,” she replied, speaking the first thought that came to her mind.

Brad looked disinterested and didn’t press the matter. “Well anyway, you left me to starve here. I had to go over to dad’s to get some dinner,” he complained.

“You went to your father’s house,” Sandy realized, her ego bruised. “There’s frozen pizza you could’ve made. Or you could’ve made a sandwich. The spaghetti is still in the fridge. There’s food.”

Brad just ignored her rebuttal. “Dad’s got a new girlfriend,” he declared with a toothy grin. “She’s a hottie.”

“He’s always got a new girlfriend,” Sandy complained in exasperation. She tried not to speak ill of her ex, even though he didn’t usually afford her the same courtesy, although her frustration was boiling over.

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” Brad needled her. “Dad said you were always jealous of other women.”

“I’m not jealous,” she reacted defensively.

“It’s okay. You never dated again after dad.”

“That’s because I was busy being a mother,” she shot back. She held her tongue and refrained from pointing out that her ex never took the time to be anything more than a sperm donor.

“You just tell yourself that,” he responded dismissively. “But what man would want you? What do you have to offer? I don’t even know what dad ever saw in you.”

Sandy was near tears as she choked up while he berated her.

“I don’t blame dad for leaving you,” he continued. “You’re always complaining. You dress like a fucking grandma. Your hair is plain; your face is plain. You don’t have any curves. You’ve got small tits. What are you? Barely a B cup? What do you have to offer that any man would want. What man would want you?”

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