Echoes Of My Mum's Moaning

Danny's POV

Our dinner felt like a slow-motion bike crash. I sat hunched over, my oversized pink sweater falling off on one shoulder, making me look smaller and out of place. I sat just across Mr Chadwick, his eyes were glued to his plate, picking at his steak with a trembling fork.

I was honestly sure he was still pissed about the lipgloss on my lips but was still finding a way to cover up that anger in front of my mum. He had always bullied me in class because of my little makeup.

I buried my face instantly on my plate, trying so hard to avoid his analytical gaze.

"He's a bit quiet tonight. He's usually a talkative," my mum chirped, reaching over to squeeze my hand. She was beaming, her face flushed with happiness that made me feel even more guilty. Whoever was the creator definitely doesn't like me. I mean making my fantasy my step dad isn't it a bit too far fetched?

I sighed heavily. "Just tired, Mom."

"Tired from what?" Mr Chadwick's voice was a low baritone that vibrated in my chest. "You don't seem to do anything productive with yourself and you are tired. I checked the portal today, honey. Your son is failing every course, I mean every course."

A hot flash of shame creeped up my skin. I dropped my fork on my plate as it clattered in a low sound. I was honestly fed up with his constant insults. "I am good at drawing," I muttered, trying to defend myself.

"Drawing is a hobby, Danny. It isn't a future," Mr Chadwick said. He didn't raise his voice but it was so dismissive. I looked at my mum hoping she would defend me somehow but she kept quiet. He isn't even my dad yet but his already acting like my Lord overall.

"You should know I value excellence. If I am going to be your dad you should also excel in every thing you do. And be good at respectable fields. The fact that you spend more time on your eyeliner than your studies is pathetic."

"It's not eyeliner, it's...." I suddenly dropped it. The look on Mr Chadwick's face was a sharp, icy glare that killed the little confidence in me instantly.

"Chadwick is going to help you, Danny," my mum said, ignorant to the war happening between my professor and I. "He's going to set up a study schedule for you. You should be grateful instead of arguing with him."

I felt my stomach turn. My mum would really allow a total stranger treat her own son like this just because they are getting married. It was awful, I mocked silently.

By midnight, the house had shifted into a different kind of silence.

I was already in my room, my room was covered in darkness. I wasn't studying. I lay on my bed trying to wrap my head around all that had happened to me in one Saturday.

I got up from my bed and turned on the small desk lamp, picking up my sketchbook and my charcoal pencil. I should just draw and forget about my sorrows.

He's your step dad. He's your step dad.

It kept echoing in my damn head. I couldn't concentrate. Not even for one minute. My mum's bedroom was right next to mine and the walls were cheap. At first, I thought I had heard a low thud against the wall. But then I heard another sound. It was the rhythmic creak of the bed frame. I froze, my pencil snapped in my hand.

Then the moans came.

"Chad ..please .....ah!"

It was the voice of my mother. She sounded breathless, high pitched and completely lost. But then the other sound shattered me into pieces. The deep, guttural grunts of the man I had been fantasizing about.

The sound of his skin hitting my mum's. The sound of a man taking exactly what he wanted. That should have been me. I should have been the word moaning those words. "Chad please.." or no better, I would have moaned "Please daddy.." urghh it was so annoying. I dropped my pencil. My heart was racing fast enough it made me dizzy.

I suddenly felt an intense heat in my room. In between my legs I felt a traitorous ache, a physical reaction to the sound of the man that hated me and pleasured my mum.

"Jeez, no," I whispered, burying my face in my hands. I was a total disgusting freak. I mean my mum's husband. But honestly it was so not fair I wanted him first.

The sounds grew louder, more frantic. Honestly they had no shame. Aren't they worried, I would hear them. I heard it again, the loud sound has turned into a long drawn out cry of release.

I felt so suffocated in my room. I got up and cracked the door open, intending to head down the stairs where I wouldn't hear these insane sounds. But as I stepped into the hallway, my mum's door was swung open.

I stopped dead.

Mr Chadwick was standing there. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He was shirtless, his broad chest still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. His black hair was a mess, and his jaw sharp enough to cut through anything. He looked dangerous.

I took my eyes off his dashing broad chest and tried to walk out.

"Stop right there."

It was a command, low and vibrating echoing on the hallway. I froze. I couldn't move even if I wanted to.

Mr Chadwick walked toward me. He smelled like a raw, musky scent of skin. Before I could even breathe, Chadwick slammed his hand against the wall beside my head. My body shook instantly.

I gasped, pinned between the wall and the man's heat. He was leaning so close to me, I could feel the heat and the heavy breath radiating off him.

"I...I was just getting water," I stammered, my eyes darting to the floor.

"I didn't ask you any question," Chadwick whispered, his voice a vibrating low tune.

I cowered my head down, in an attempt to avoid his eyes that burned with something I couldn't even read. He used the tip of his finger and lifted my face back to his. He leaned closer, his chest almost brushing against mine.

Why was he standing so close? I thought silently.

If he knew I had the hots for him, he wouldn't be standing so close to me. The air felt so hot, I could barely even breathe.

"You were listening," Chadwick stated. It wasn't a question. He knew I could hear them, this was so awkward. "You were standing behind the door, listening to your mother scream my name. But you wouldn't listen in class, Danny?"

"No! I wasn't..."

He finally took his hand off my face without saying another word. But he didn't just take it off like that. His fingers brushed through my face, sliding down my back and then soon enough his hand was on my bottom cheeks. He squeezed them, pulling them to his waist. Just one of his palm was enough to hold my ass cheeks together.

It was so tight. So hot. My crotch was on his.

My mind was blurred in a total mess of confusion and a twisted excitement. Does this mean what I think it meant?