Moaning Stepmom Novels & Stories

I simply don't care anymore! I walk up the stairs, not minding if my heels are too loud in the quietness of the night. When I get to the top of the stairs, I don't wait, I just head straight for the master bedroom. Then I stop. Because I think I hear moaning sounds. I must be wrong, so I listen carefully, my ear pressed to the cool wood of the door. It is my mother moaning. I can't believe it. So they are having sex after ruining my life. I remember Stephane's words about not being able to fuck her anymore because of me and I can't help laughing at myself for being so stupid. Blindly believing his words.

I was practically dead, like a lamb about to be slaughtered. Each step felt heavy, and my hand gently touched the smooth handrail as I went down. Every movement seemed slower, as if something was holding me back, making the descent feel longer and more difficult than it should have been. But while I walk, I listen to my so-called stepmom and him not saying a word back to her. With the last step, I reached the bottom. She stands between his highness and the television set looking at him make words at her. Grits her teeth every time he calls out damn this or that. She is too limp and too sore to get up the breath to push the words out to stop it all. She just stands there and lets him work out

"We warned you." "I'm sorry," Sarah whispered, tears starting to form in her eyes. "We just needed money. We didn't know what else to do." "Didn't know what else to do?" I repeated incredulously. "You could have gotten jobs. You could have asked for help honestly, instead of lying about medical emergencies. You could have treated me like a human being instead of a piggy bank to be broken when you needed cash." "You should go to hell," my stepmom spat at me viciously. "You're the one who has money to waste while we're struggling. You think you're so much better than us now, don't you?"

"... And there is the stepmother who only cares about money and more money." I knew much about Layla's family, she told me all there was to know. Her stepmother was a thorn in her flesh. The woman never liked her, well she didn't like her either, but... whatsername didn't care. She was a gold digger who didn't care about hiding her real colors. "I already apologized," Noah said. His hands found mine and he held them close. "Although I might still surprise you a lot in the future, I'm never going to involve your father in anything without informing you."

I just walked past him and into the sitting room, slamming the door behind me. Inside, I tried to breathe. The room was too quiet, too clean. I turned on the TV, hoping to lose myself in a movie. Maybe if I watched something light, I could forget where I was. Who I was with. But peace didn’t last. A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and his son walked in like he owned the place. His shoulders were relaxed, but the smirk on his face made me sit up straighter. “Stepmom,” he said, dragging out the word like it was poison. “What’s it like, marrying someone old enough to be your father? Let me guess—it’s all about the money, right?”

she whispered. Richard’s gaze flicked to the open box behind her. “You don’t have to go through those alone.” Monet shook her head quickly. “I’m okay. I think it's time I really need to take the role of stepmom and wife more seriously.” Richard stepped further into the room. Slow.Measured. As if entering her space required permission. “I owe you an apology,” he murmured, “you don’t have to do it alone.”Time and time again, I've only given. You have a reason to run and hide, and I don't want to be that man anymore.”

How could people be so cruel? Lena had grabbed the remote and switched off the tv when I couldn’t help but watch the sick news. “It will fuck you up! Stop watching this shit!” she had shouted at me. “What she said was a lie” A voice booms from the door and I stiffen. Fucking great! It’s my stepmom. Joy. All she bought in my life was misery. She is an influential woman. She often gets her way with dad. Dad loves her, maybe that’s why.

I froze for a minute before I found my voice again. “Uhm… yeah… just a little,” I stuttered. I let out a sharp breath, reaching for a glass. “The neighbor complained to me this morning,” my mom began. I turned and found her eyes on her stepsons, who were barely paying her any attention. “She said she was hearing loud moans from the house yesterday. What were you all doing when we were out?” My mom blurted out, and the glass of water I had poured to calm my nerves fell from my hand.

Her voice was full of sobs, every word squeezed out from deep in her chest. “Honey, I followed you without asking for anything and gave birth to our son. How could I possibly harm our own flesh and blood? “Every day I rack my brain cooking for you, keeping this house in perfect order. Have you forgotten all of that? “Your misunderstanding of me doesn’t matter. What I’m afraid of is your being fooled by this ungrateful brat and regretting it for the rest of your life!”

“I just want you to feel the same despair you put my mom through. Aren’t I considerate?” Megan’s whole body trembled as she convulsed in pain, unable to speak. Smiling, I turned and walked away, her screams of agony mixing with the sound of the staff beating Brandon and Paul.