Son Holding Mom's Head No Blur Novels & Stories

She closed her eyes, pulling out a memory, trying to remember where she saw it, but all she could see were blurry images. “Are you alright?” Little hands mimicked her moves earlier, touching her face. Her son's talcum-fresh scent filled her nostrils. She inhaled his baby-sweet scent, smiling secretly in amusement when she noted the concern in her son's voice. “I think I am going to have a headache.” She faked a cough and bent to scoop her son up so they could both settle on the bed. A shriek followed. “Mom, my hair, you’re ruining it.” But Wyoming did not budge. She held the small frame of her son’s body close to her amidst his protest.

I looked into his eyes; they were the only visible feature, and he observed me, tilting his head slightly to the side. My eyes were slowly drooping, black spots appearing in my sight, when he suddenly removed his arm from my throat. I immediately took a sharp breath. The moment was short-lived when he grabbed me again. My back was against his front as he held me in a headlock, my arms behind my back. I slowly blinked, my body growing weaker by the second. I regained some focus, seeing my mother being held by the two men, a knife against her throat, forcing her to stay still.

The room buzzed with polite applause, but all I could hear was blood roaring in my ears. This wasn’t just a stranger. This wasn’t just a mistake. This was my ex boyfriend’s father. The director smiled, oblivious. “And of course, Dr. Hesse will be working closely with our newly promoted research leads.” I swallowed hard. Marcus finally broke eye contact, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. If anyone else noticed, they gave no sign. But I did. God help me, I did. I sat there, perfectly still, heart racing, mind spiraling, realizing with a cold certainty that whatever I had thought was over was only just beginning.

I rest my head on the pillow then close my eyes. I jolt up into a sitting position when someone grabs my foot. My headset falls off from my ears. I blink many times to see if I’m not dreaming. Mom is sitting on my bed. Her hair is worst than the bird’s nest—it’s like she’s hit by a huge tornado. The pain in her blotchy eyes is so visible. Huge bruises are over her left cheek; under her right eye, at the corner of her mouth. Her nose is busted, and a small cut on her lower lip still bleeds. Mom is sobbing, sniffing, and hugging herself. Jesus Christ! I can feel my skin getting stone cold. My heart sinks and my eyes water at her sight. I silently and painfully move slow closer to her and pull

I shove through the front doors, my eyes scanning wildly until I spot my mother who is sitting in a chair outside the emergency room, her hands are clenched together so tight her knuckles are white. She stands the second she sees me, tears streaking her face. “Where is he?” I bark. Dad steps forward. “Alex-” “Where the fuck is my son?!” I see mum place a soft hand on his arm as she steps into my view. “They’re with him now. He’s getting checked, they said he might have hit his head when he fell…he’s conscious but he was shaking and cold and-” I grab the back of my neck, pacing, trying to contain the furious beat of my heart.

His shoulders loosened slightly, the rhythm syncing between us more easily now. "See?" I murmured. "You're fine. You've got this." Across the hall, I spotted my dad crouched down, making ridiculous faces at Canon, who sat giggling on the floor beside Mom's chair. She watched us with that dreamy look moms get when everything is finally, momentarily okay. Her gaze drifted between me and Conan like she was watching the ending of those stupid Lifetime movies. The music built toward the final steps, and I guided Conan into the turn—spun him close, hand still at his waist—and whispered as the final note played:

"Can't we just skip to the part..." "You can leave," Mom says quietly but firmly. "I understand if you don't want to see this, but I'm going to watch it all." Susan nods and we turn our heads back to the screen. Susan has sucked Dad's cockhead into her mouth and her hands are stroking his shaft and teasing his balls. Moving her hand up and down in rhythm to her bobbing head, Susan has Dad worked into a frenzy in no time. Susan slows her pace and starts licking up and down his shaft and around his cockhead.

Jon’s mother’s smile falters. She sees me. And her face changes. Everything shifts. Her skin pales, like the color drains right out of her body. Her mouth parts slightly as her gaze zeroes in on me. Horror. Actual horror, like she’s staring at a ghost. She points at me with a terrified look in her eyes. "Y-You…" Jon’s smile vanishes. Arc stiffens behind me. "What’s wrong, Mum?" Jon asks, stepping forward. She doesn’t answer. Her hand rises to cover her mouth, eyes wide and fixed. She looks like she’s going to pass out.

Sonja's pleads fellon his deaf ears and pitiless eyes as he watch and enjoy the pain she's having He loosen his clothes and force her dress up but as he try taking off her underwear, Sonja let go a bit and reach for something to stop him He drag her hands back to stop any attempts from her and almost push into her when Sonja muster all her strength and drive the hairpin in her hand to his chest As she stab him, she watch him stop for a moment releasing his holds on her body and look down at his chest Seeing him look up at her and about to hit her again,Sonja push it more in and push him off leaving the hairpin stuck in his chest Prince Benson could not let out a loud scream as the excruciati

Everything went blank. Sophia held her cheek in shock, a faint ring echoed in her ears. She hadn’t seen the slap coming nor did she sense it when her mother moved closed enough to deliver it. Her vision blurred for a few seconds, when she could see clearly her mother was standing with her hands crossed, though her face was calm, the flare of her nostrils gave her anger away.