Gender: Male Age: 67 Location: Carolinas
The Nerd gets more than he bargained for—then he gets revenge.
Ryan and Morgan made love all night and well into the next morning. It was as though they had found an oasis after wandering for a month in the desert. They couldn’t get enough of each other. They slept the rest of the day before preparing for their wedding. They selected a date, saw the minister and reserved the church. This should be interesting thought Ryan who was brought up Catholic in contemplation of a Baptist wedding. Ryan gave Morgan a credit card and sent her, Mom and Sara shopping for a dress. Seventeen thousand dollars later they were finally finished. The guest list was created and the invitations mailed. At last, with only two weeks to go, they were almost done. Sara would be Maid of Honor; Ryan’s brother Dan, Best Man.
The night before the wedding they prepared for bed, wearing their usual pajamas-nothing. Ryan thought he could see the onset of Morgan’s swelling abdomen, but maybe it was just his imagination. Seven weeks had past since he had asked her to marry him and he was sublimely happy. After so many years of hard work his life was coming together, at last. Ryan lay back on his pillow and was about to sleep when he felt Morgan’s fingers move across his hip to his flaccid cock. Well, he thought, it won’t be flaccid for long. Her hand did a figure eight up and down his shaft, quickly bring him to a fully erect state. Ryan moaned his approval as Morgan turned over to face him. She lowered her face, placing her tongue right on his cock head. She cupped his balls before going down on him, sucking his hard, hot dick deep into her throat. Morgan pushed him back on the bed, mounting him before riding him hard. Morgan loved it hard. She loved ramming her clit into Ryan’s pubic bone, using the friction to bring herself to a stirring orgasm. On this occasion she reached back, first to cup and massage his balls and later to massage the inside of his rectum with a finger or two. Working him this way quickly brought him to an explosive ejaculation which Morgan was happy to take into her pussy. She was only a few seconds behind him. She twitched and shook violently as wave after wave of orgasmic ecstasy rolled through her. She collapsed onto him and was just nibbling his ear when they both fell into a relaxing slumber.
The wedding went as planned. Ryan was relieved that it wasn’t a Catholic mass which would have trapped the wedding party and guests in the stifling church for almost an hour. Instead the ceremony stuck to the basics—do you take? and all that stuff—over and done in fifteen minutes. They retired to the limo with Dan and Sara. Ryan’s attention was to his bride, of course, but it seemed that Sara was giving him some “funny” looks. That was the only way Ryan knew to describe what he was seeing. When they arrived at the posh country club where the reception was held he got a close look at both Sara and his mother-in-law. It seemed they were both giving him these looks and he didn’t know what to make of them. Seated at the dais, he turned to his lovely bride, “Do you know what’s up with your mom and Sara? They both keep giving me these looks that I don’t understand.”
“Yes, darling, but I think you should talk to them. They should tell you themselves, but be sure to talk to Sara first.”
Ryan didn’t know what to think, but, excusing himself, he went to seek out his sister-in-law—his erstwhile lover—Sara. She was standing alone near one of the open bars, sipping a cocktail even though she was under age. She smiled when she saw him approach. “Hi, brother-in-law,” she said, but she was staring at him lewdly, as if undressing him with her eyes.
“Sara, what’s going on? You and your mom keep giving me these strange “looks.” Just now you looked like you wanted to rape me.”
“Well, Ryan, remember our wonderful weekend together? It seems you left me with a little present. Well—uh—it’s little now but growing every day—DAD!”
Ryan staggered back. This was not the kind of information he needed or wanted to hear on his wedding day. “You’re kidding, aren’t you? I thought you were on the pill.”
“Who told you that? Not, me. I wanted to fuck and I loved doing it with you, but I never took any precautions, and neither did you. We had a great weekend together and I’m pregnant. You can have a paternity test if you want to, but you are definitely the father. I haven’t had sex with anyone else—either before or after. I think I should move in with you and Morgan. We can have a wonderful time together, just like we did that weekend.”
Now Ryan really staggered. Move in? What would Morgan think? He turned and walked through the crowd. What a day! Could anything worse happen? As it turned out—yes!
He ran smack dab into his new mother-in-law. She pulled him aside saying, “I need to talk to you—alone!” She pulled him into a hallway just outside the reception room. She turned with venom in her eyes. “You fucked Morgan and got her pregnant. Then you fucked Sara and got her pregnant. What the hell’s wrong with me? Don’t you think I like to fuck? Don’t you think I’d love to have a baby growing inside me? I may be their mother, but I’m still a year younger than you. If you don’t fuck me and knock me up, I’m going to make a lot of trouble. Sara’s not of legal age in this state. That’s statutory rape, buster! So get ready to whip it out and do me right—over and over—until I’m with child. Then I think I should move in with you and Morgan…and Sara. You have a really big house. There’s room for all of us!”
The room was spinning when he returned to Morgan. He sat down, taking a huge swig of his drink. Fuck, he thought, I need a double. In fact, I need to get drunk. He realized that Morgan was looking at him. “Isn’t it wonderful news about Sara? I want her to move in with us right away. And don’t worry about Mom. She loves to fuck as much as I do and she’ll be a big help when the babies come. I’m due in November and Sara’s due three weeks later. Then when Mom gets pregnant we’ll be able to help her. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“All I wanted was for us to be together and build our family. I didn’t know Sara wasn’t on the pill or I wouldn’t have fucked her without a condom. And now your mother? It’s too much, too much!”
“You worry too much, Ryan. It’ll all work out, believe me…believe me.”
Ryan didn’t know what to believe any more. All his plans and hopes shattered in a single day.
As Morgan had predicted, it did all work out without much difficulty. The hardest part, it turned out, was selling Marge’s (Morgan’s mother’s name) shitty single-wide mobile home. A lot of termite damage was discovered when it was inspected. The cost of fixing it was almost as much as the whole thing was worth, so Ryan had the house demolished and sold the land. A man from upstate bought the lot and the one next to it, anticipating building a good-sized home there. Of course, selling the lot did not provide as much money as the lot and house would have, but money wasn’t a big issue for Ryan.
Morgan set up a schedule—Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday Ryan would fuck her; Tuesday and Friday were Sara’s turn with Ryan; Thursday and Sunday Ryan would fuck Marge. Thus Ryan would be kept busy the entire week satisfying his three lovers. It was agreed among the parties that threesomes would be welcomed with Morgan agreeing to Ryan and the other two women if she could sit and watch the fun. Ryan was mortified but he went along, as much to satisfy Morgan as to placate Marge. The last thing he needed along with this three-ring circus was a visit from the police. At one point he considered moving to Utah so his family wouldn’t look so out-of-place.
Things looked up on his first Thursday with Marge. She was older than her daughters naturally, but she was in magnificent shape for someone thirty-nine years old. Her breasts were firm, and larger than Morgan’s, even with her pregnancy advancing. She had a flat abdomen, with an obvious absence of stretch marks, and her butt still had a long way to go before sagging. Better—she was truly insatiable in her animalistic pursuit of sex. When Ryan entered her room she was wearing a short kimono in the lotus position so Ryan could see all the way up to her pussy. Ryan started to disrobe but Marge stopped him. “That’s my job,” she said. She rose, walked to him, and put his hands on his shoulders. Then, moving closer, she initiated a kiss, sticking her tongue into his reluctant mouth. Ryan went along, eventually even getting into it as his body betrayed him. Marge slipped her hands inside his shirt, rubbing his chest and teasing his nipples before sliding it over his head. She sucked and bit his nipple now. Ryan responded by placing his hands on her butt cheeks, squeezing them, and pulling her cunt against his thigh. Marge’s hands moved now to his belt, opening it and pulling down his pants. His boxers showed a major tent as his erection struggled for freedom. Marge growled like a feral animal as she knelt before him and pulled down his boxers in one motion that also saw her deep throat his cock without any preliminaries. Ryan struggled to keep his balance, so forcefully did Marge pull him. Eventually he regained his balance and stood with Marge glued to his cock. Her technique, if you could call it that, was to suck as hard as possible in the hope of bringing him off. “We need to stop, Marge, I’m almost ready to cum. We need to put it into your cunt.” Ryan had used this term—most objectionable to most women—intentionally. If she were going to blackmail him, he was going to abuse her—not verbally or physically, and definitely not in front of Morgan, but, he would abuse her sexually. It would become his modus operandi—his method of operation when fucking her. Also, he had decided, that under no circumstance would he eat her out. He may have to fuck her, but that was all. Ryan pulled out—carefully, for he was worried about being bitten—and moved to the bed. He pulled Marge with him—on top of him. He moved her over his cock and forced her down, although truth be told, it didn’t take much forcing. Marge was soaking wet from her brief oral encounter with Ryan’s cock. She slid down his pole as effortlessly as if it were greased. Ryan was surprised. Even after giving birth twice her pussy was still tight. Certainly the third tightest he’d ever had, after Sara and Morgan. In keeping with her animalistic approach to sex, Marge was humping and grinding in overdrive. Ryan marveled that she could move her abdomen so fast. Marge reminded him of a dog humping his bitch, so quickly did she move. Ryan reached up and opened her kimono, revealing her marvelous set of tits, firm and round, almost a C-cup with long protruding nipples and large round areolas. Ryan reached up with his mouth to suckle, a move that drove Marge crazy with desire. She humped even faster, as though shifting into an even higher gear. This change in tempo was all it took to bring Ryan over the edge. He squirted several long ropes of hot white cum into Marge’s womb. He didn’t worry about helping her to cum—that wasn’t part of the deal. He was required to fuck and impregnate her, and that was all he was willing to do. Hell, he wasn’t even willing to do that much, but what choice did he have?
He tried to push Marge off him but she resisted. “I want to stop it from leaking out,” she said.
“Then roll over and stick your legs in the air,” replied Ryan brusquely as he pushed her over onto the bed. “Or maybe we should get you a big stopper.” It sounded like he might be kidding, but there was no humor in Ryan’s brain. He rose, gathered his clothes without bothering to dress and walked out the door to shower. When he walked into the bedroom, Morgan was waiting. She was about to ask him how it went but decided not to when she saw the expression on his face. Ryan showered, went to bed, and rebuffed Morgan’s advances, disgusted with his plight.
Ryan had a date to play golf the following morning. He kissed Morgan goodbye and headed for the garage to get his clubs into the Porsche. He was just about to leave when he realized he had forgotten his GPS. He retrieved the devise from his dresser and was on his way back to the car when he heard laughter coming from the living room. Morgan, Sara, and Marge were having a great time. Soon he realized it was at his expense. He paused just inside the kitchen to eavesdrop.
“What a sap,” laughed Morgan. “Can you believe he actually fell for all this? We can take him for everything he owns and he won’t even be able to do anything about it. Ha ha ha.!
“When I get pregnant,” stated Marge, somewhat more soberly, “he’ll really be in a pickle.”
“Well, I hope it’s soon,” moped Sara. “My boyfriend isn’t too happy about me letting him fuck me, and neither am I. I only want Steve fucking me, not that nerdy Ryan. Geez, what a pathetic loser, I’m glad he’s not the father of my baby. Who’d want a nerd kid?”
Marge interrupted, ”You have to be patient and follow the plan. When Morgan came home and told me how loaded this nerd was I saw it as our way out of that fucking trailer. Look where we live now, and we have all the money we want to spend, too. We probably won’t get all of it, but we’ll get plenty. When our lawyer gets into court and tells the judge how we were forced to be his love slaves…well, just use your imagination. Morgan, I have to hand it to you. You played the sucker beautifully.”
“Yeah, I did and, know what, it was easy…almost too easy. He was desperate to fall in love, so desperate he would believe anything. Could anyone believe that someone like me would fall for a jerk almost twice my age? Of course not, but he did—big time.”
Ryan had heard enough. He tiptoed out the door to the Porsche, started the engine and drove away. He called his buddies and cancelled—he was too upset-- and too angry-- to play. He needed to plot his revenge. He went to a Starbuck’s, ordered something—anything—just so he could sit there and think. Say what you will—nerds are good at thinking. Just after noon, after hashing over dozens of schemes, he thought he might have it. He would get them involved in a swindle. Of course, he’d be involved, too, but by the time the shit hit the fan he’d be long gone.
His first step was to hack into the county newspaper’s records to find someone who had been born around the same he was, and who had died either in infancy or early in life. It took him several tries but eventually he found one who was perfect. Born just a month after him and died in an auto accident six months later. He mailed a formal request for a copy of the birth certificate—his birth certificate—signing his new name along with the necessary fee. The copy was to be mailed to a condo he had rented with cash for a year, making the real estate agent ecstatic. He used the condo as a base of operations, setting up a computer, internet access, and residency for his new identity. When he had his birth certificate he mailed it along with a color photo of his face to the U.S. State Department along with a passport application and the fee for expedited service. Ryan knew that few clerks, faced with hundreds if not thousands of requests every day, would take the time or make the effort to check if there was also a death certificate. More importantly, he knew the county records department was not computerized, which would have made his task almost impossible. He knew that birth records were kept in one location; death records in another. In about a month his passport was delivered. It was perfect, of course, because it was real. Now for phase two.
The hardest part was acting naturally at home, being the same old nerd he had been “BB”—before betrayal. “I had an idea,” he said one evening before his appointment to fuck the insatiable but obnoxious Marge. “Since we’re going to be one big happy family, I thought we ought to have some investments…you know…as a group.” He had to be careful not to acknowledge the glances the women had given each other almost mocking him. “This idea should bring us almost fifty million dollars in less than a year’s time. I want to start an investment firm with the four of us as principals. What do you say? Want in? I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is get rich.”
Ryan knew their greed would get the best of them. “Yeah!” they all yelled, dollar signs in their eyes.
‘OK, great, I’ll get the necessary paperwork put together for you to sign. The hook was in the water, now all he had to do was set it.
Ryan set up an office in the nearby city and advertised in financial publications. The ads offered an investment in a privately held hedge fund with double digit return in less than six months and almost guaranteed income. It took less than a month for the first checks to come in. He deposited them using signature stamps—Marge Stanton, Sara Stanton, and Morgan Stanton. He never used his own signature. After a month he started sending out checks—interest and principal-again with two signatures—Marge Stanton, Treasurer, and Sara Stanton, Vice President, or Morgan Stanton, President. They were overjoyed with their “official titles,” and were even more overjoyed with the checks that he brought home for them --$100,000 each the first month; $200,000 or more each succeeding month. This went on for six months until he was tipped off. The SEC was looking into the company’s affairs—amazing how a $100,000 bribe to a well placed clerk in the SEC’s Washington office could pay off. The SEC was closing in on his Ponzi scheme. It was time to disappear. Ryan had already moved virtually all his funds offshore to the Cayman Islands. He had also wiped the office clean of his fingerprints and deposited quite a number of his “lovers’” prints, taken from glasses or dishes with tape and transferred to desks, computers, even the bathroom. Only one thing left to do—one final fuck with Morgan.
Morgan was really bulging and she was reluctant to have sex, but that wasn’t stopping Ryan tonight. He’d fuck her from behind before fucking her ass. He began tenderly, kissing her lips and neck, moving her fingers down to his cock. There’d been no sex for almost a month so his attentions were well received—she just didn’t want to fuck him. He rubbed her pussy making her wet. They were standing in the bedroom so she was unconcerned when he shifted around behind her ostensibly to nuzzle her neck. Suddenly, he pushed her against her bureau, bending her over. He was in her just as quickly. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Just taking my due, my dear; I’ve been remiss recently—all my responsibilities at work, I guess. He was giving it to her hard and fast, taking out all his pent up frustrations and anger in one special moment. “I’m sorry, dear, I just got carried away.” He withdrew and wiped his wet cock on her robe, but he did not let her up. He moved now to her ass, ramming his dry cock into her dry ass, causing her intense pain. He knew he had hurt her, but he would have to do this a thousand times before he could come close to equaling the pain he had received. She screamed as the pain ripped through her but he kept up his pace until he felt his balls churn. Then he pulled out, spun her around, and forced his exploding cock into her mouth. Cum dripped from her mouth onto her chest and swollen stomach.
“Are you crazy?” she screamed as she finally was able to stand up. “Have you noticed I’m almost ready to deliver? You hurt me you asshole.”
Ryan smirked internally before saying,” I just wanted to give you something to remember me by. I’m going fishing.” He walked calmly out the door, out of the house, and down the dock to the thirty-footer. He started it up and headed to the inlet and the ocean. He had secretly hidden a small inflatable with a five horsepower engine aboard last weekend while the women were out shopping. They never went near the boat; there was no danger of it being discovered. When he was about five miles from shore, he loosened the nut holding one of the fuel lines, set the timer, inflated the small boat and left. Thirty minutes later there was a horrific explosion. The Coast Guard was only able to retrieve a wallet and driver’s license from the wreckage; the boat had burned to the waterline, the outboards sinking in the deep water. The official report surmised that Ryan had been fixing a leak in the gas tank when it ignited, destroying him along with the boat. In truth, Ryan had motored on the calm seas to a nearby resort, leaving the inflatable at the water’s edge, believing correctly that some kids would come along and take it for a joyride. Walking to the front of the resort he was able to take a taxi to a nearby shopping center. He had placed all his valuables in a used car he had purchased using his new identity. He drove to the airport, caught a flight to Atlanta, connecting to Mexico City, connecting to Rio.
Feigning shock at the news, the women were, in reality, thrilled to hear of Ryan’s demise. All his hundreds of millions would be theirs. They were quite startled to learn that the accounts held only a little under fifty thousand dollars. They were even more surprised when U.S. Marshals appeared at their door with arrest warrants for the three of them—securities fraud, grand theft, mail fraud were the main charges, but there were lots more. Denials, claims that they did and knew nothing were interpreted by law enforcement to be total blatant lies. They were unable to make bail so all three delivered their babies in federal prison. The children were taken away to foster care shortly after birth. They were sentenced to twenty years each. They still didn’t understand what had happened, but they were still screwed big time.
About a month into her sentence Morgan received a post card—unsigned. It said simply, “It’s never a good idea to gloat in a nerd’s living room about how you’ve played him for a fool.” Morgan was sure it had come from Ryan, but how to prove it.
At the same time, a gorgeous Brazilian she-male was kneeling in front of a slightly built six footer who was reclining in a lounge chair taking in the view of Ipanema Beach. “May I suck your cock, Senhor George? “
“Sounds great to me, Rita. Then I’ll want to fuck that fine ass of yours.”
“Oh Senhor George, you say the sweetest things.”
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