1 Home Sweet Home

I just left my friends and girl at the corner, my phone dinging non stop. I was late and my dad was texting me. I decided to up my pace. I didn't need him yelling at me as soon as I walked in the door. The easy going, but distant dad of my past was long gone.

Since my mom died and he married is bitch mistress, my life has drastically altered. The fun outgoing dad of my childhood was dead, now I get super asshat and superbitch combo to make my life complete. If only she was just a little bit less psychotic, home would not be too terrible. But who am I kidding, that would be asking for too much.

If dad the asshat only knew how often I had to kick that bitch out of my room when he worked late, her paws groping me and trying to get me hard. What seventeen year old wanted to play catch the mole with their fatass bitch stepmom? I know that is often a trope found in porn, but the stepmom is always sexy and young. This bitch is older than my deceased mom. I don't know what made my dad desire her.

In any case, I'm not craving sex that bad, and I like my allowance and a roof over my head, even if I have to fight her off on occasions. I tried talking my dad into installing a lock, but somehow stepbitch talked him out of it. I even went so far as to tell him I needed my masterbation security time and a lock would give me peace of mind. That asshat said something about using my hands to hold a book instead of my dick.

I walked into the front door and could hear several people in the kitchen. They never told me we would have guests but it makes sense now why dad was blowing up my phone. I look back outside and see my favorite person's car parked out on the street. I don't know how I missed that.

"Hey Justin" my dad called out when he saw me, a toothy grin to show my maternal grandparents that we are a Leave it to Beaver family. I reach over and kiss my nana on the cheek and give my papa a hug. "Hey nana, papa, how are you doing?" I genuinely love my mom's parents, they are both amazing people. My heart hurts looking at them, my mom resembled my nana so much-if she were still alive...I stray away from those kinds of thoughts, it's pointless anyways. I don't even resist the urge to hug nana again, kissing her forehead like she did mine many years ago.

"We're doing great boy, how's school? You still got that girlfriend?" my papa asked with a wink. I swear I got a girlfriend just so he could rib me about having a girlfriend. I remember the first time he asked me that question in first grade and how I was too embarrassed to even respond. My mom's laughter from that memory is bittersweet.

"Yeah, I was with her, sorry I'm late" I answered back with a smirk and a wink back, making my papa respond with a robust laugh. He proceeds to talk about taking care of a girl and how to do it properly. This old man, he just loves to talk about my nana, and having a girlfirend is perfect fodder for him.

I lead my nana to the dinner table and get her situated, I love doting on her fragile frame. She may look like a fragile fairy, but she is a spunky and tough old dame, (even though she can play the part of a weakling to garner more attention from my papa). I walk back into the kitchen to help bring out the food, I walk in on dad and stepmom making out, his hands in her shirt fondling her breasts. I hold back my gag reflex and grab the spaghetti and meatball dish. Dad continues fondling her while she moans like she's in heaven, I roll my eyes and walk out.

When my mom was alive, he barely touched her...I don't know why I once thought he was the best dad in the world. If mom was still alive would I still think this way?

I set the spaghetti down and prepare myself to walk in again to watch the horror show. I open the door and they are on opposite sides of the counter, dad's holding the bread and tea, while she's grabbing the dessert. It's like the previous two minutes never happened and I am in some kind of horrible hallucination. I go and get the silverware and follow them out thanking whatever deity made them stop.

Papa is a huge storyteller, during dinner he's animated telling about his latest fishing trip where he caught a fish this big...and begins to huffaw loudly. It's hard not to laugh with him, he's a contagious laugh-er. Nana joins in and adds to his embellished stories, giving him credit when we all know he either caught nothing, or his catch was small.The meal is going great, I'm attentive and monitoring dad's mood, everything seems ok.

After dinner we all head into the living room and I begin to feel really tired. I keep yawning while talking to my nana and papa, my dad and stepmom are watching me with eagle eyes. What's up with them anyways I wonder, but I ignore them. I figure if dad's going to get all anal anyways, might as well make it worth it and ignore his dumbass self. Besides, it's been weeks since I saw my grandparents, when mom was alive we ate every Sunday at their house, now I had to wait until my dad invited them over since he didn't allow me to visit them on my own.

Since this visit caught me unprepared, I know that they showed up without an invite. In the past this was nothing, but now that moms gone, it could spell disaster for me. I yawn again, and I think about last night, when my stepbitch was super handsy with her drunk ass self, combine that with early morning track training where we ran for two miles before school even started, well, I'm tired.

When my grandparents visit I pretend like the world is back to normal again, but that shatters once they leave. I try to enjoy this time with them, but I know when they leave mega bitch stepmom will knit and pick every little thing I said and did, in turn making my asshat dad turn psycho.

So, I try to focus on the conversation around me. I know my grandparents showed up for a reason, and they will get to it soon. I smile over at my nana, hearing her talk about the last trip we went on, and how my mom seemed so relaxed. I let nana talk, but my heart dropped. Nothing worse than talking about my mom in front of stepbitch.