Faith
My head spins as the facts hit home. Hunter is my mother’s ex-husband? How is this possible? Yes, my mom has been married multiple times, but at no point did Samantha ever mention a Hunter Stockton. When did this happen? How can this be my life?
My palms sweat as my hands hang limply by my sides. I can’t move or breathe because maybe if I remain perfectly still, I’ll wake up from this nightmare. This can’t be reality. I must be dreaming.
But one look at Hunter’s stricken face tells me that my mother isn’t lying. Granted, he looks just as horrified as I feel, but it means that Samantha and Hunter really were married at some point.
“Shut the fuck up,” my boyfriend grits through his teeth, staring daggers at my mom. “Just keep your trap closed.”
But Samantha has never taken kindly to instructions. Instead, she throws her head back and lets out a loud cackle, befitting of a witch.
“Tell my daughter to keep her legs closed! You’re fucking two women who are genetically related, Hunter! Who’s the dumbass now?”
He literally growls at her, rage in those blue eyes.
“There’s no ill intent here,” he rasps. “I didn’t know!”
Samantha merely laughs again, a high-pitched sound that makes me cringe.
“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” she taunts. “I had no idea, I didn’t know, yada yada yada. But ignorance is no defense, you fucking moron!” she screams. “You’ve been dicking my teenage daughter when you’ve already dicked me!”
My mother is yelling now, but I’m not listening because I’m trying to think back. Hunter mentioned his previous marriage to me once, but he didn’t say much about it. He said it was a long time ago, and that it only lasted a few days. They parted ways almost immediately after tying the knot, and after that, he never saw his ex-wife again.
OMG. Except that his ex-wife happens to be my mother!
I’m frozen with horror. There’s no way Hunter did this on purpose, right? He wouldn’t do such a thing because he cares about me.
“I think I should go,” the justice of the peace interrupts when there’s a lull in the screaming. “It seems there are some family issues to work out, and I have another wedding to get to. I’m sorry, but you can always re-book! Toodle-oo!”
Then he disappears, and the five of us stare at each other.
“Hunter Stockton,” my mom hisses with spittle spraying from her lips. “So we meet again. I knew you’d betray me someday!” Samantha rasps, not making any sense.
I take a step forward. “Mom, calm down. This isn’t the end of the world.”
“It’s not?” she shrieks. “So you’re perfectly fine taking up with one of my discarded husbands? Good to know because Georgie here isn’t too much older than you. Maybe you can date him next. How would you like that, sweetie? Two men doing a double-dicking with a mother-daughter duo? Isn’t there some kind of porn where that happens? Or maybe the four of us should just get to it right now. Why wait?”
To my horror, Samantha begins tearing at her dress, and within moments, she’s clad in nothing but her high heels and a tiny pair of white panties. Unfortunately, her breasts are old and saggy, hanging almost all the way to her navel, and years of using the tanning bed haven’t been kind to her skin. The orange flesh is loose and wrinkled now that it’s been set free of its lace covering.
“Samantha, please, cover yourself!” Georgie cries, almost in tears, grabbing at her dress. But she hisses at him angrily too.
“My daughter’s a trashy whore, but you know what? I’ll show you how a real trashy whore behaves! Come on, Hunter. Come on, Georgie. Take off your pants and get some of this!”
With that, Samantha rips off her panties too, and her pussy is the oldest, most dried-up looking thing. It’s bare because she must have just had it waxed, but the lips droop and her clit dangles loosely, like the ringer of a bell.
“You want some of this?” she screams, vulgarly holding her cunt open to show us that loose clit. “Then put it in, boyfriends! And then put it in Faith too! Isn’t that what you want?”
At that, Georgie runs screaming from the room, his hands pressed to his ears like he’s in a horror movie. I have half a mind to follow him, but Samantha’s not done yet. My mom literally lies down on the nubby carpet then, and spreads her legs, still clad in their high heels.
“Put it in, Hunter!” she says, smiling maliciously at my boyfriend while showing us her pussy again. “You’ve already been inside, so why not sample it a second time? This is the birth canal that your girlfriend came sliding out of! You’ll like it too, I promise!”
That does it. I shriek with horror, rage, and shock, and bolt from the room, with only one thing in mind: I have to get away. This wedding is a thousand times worse than I imagined, and nothing will make up for the total destruction that is my life.