Miriam Schwartz - Family affair

Esther had been working on a bottle of Scotch for most of the day. She was pretty well out of it now. She talked to herself, and cursed the rat of a husband she had had the bad luck to marry. She mumbled and shouted, lurching about the house, from one room to another, trying to get the bad feelings out of her brain, but finding no escape from them.

"That bastard, that fucking bastard. How could he do this to me? How could he? After everything I did for you. I gave you everything you wanted, everything you asked for… I denied you nothing, you cheating, lying, fucking bastard! Goddamn you, you prick! You played your little game with my daughter behind my back and thought you could get away with it, but I caught you, I caught you, prick! But maybe that wasn't the first time, huh, George, dear? Maybe you've been doing that all along. If not with my daughter then with some other young chick you charmed into letting you fuck her. Maybe you handed out some of those used vacuum cleaners of yours and got away with it like that, huh? You prick!"

She lurched against a wall, pushed herself back from it, lost her balance and sprawled across the arm of the couch and then straight back across it. She gasped from exertion. She sighed and stretched her legs out. She was wearing only a very thin wrapper, a light blue silk thing that was almost completely transparent. Her tits bounced from side to side as she rolled onto the couch. The nipples were thick and long and almost sticking right through the sheer silk. When she sprawled back on the couch her legs spread. Her left leg went onto the floor. The wrapper opened at her middle and her fat, hairy pussy was left exposed. What difference did it make? she asked herself. Why shouldn't I act like a tramp? Everybody else was doing it for Christ's sake! Her own daughter. Yes, she was guilty as her husband. What had she done wrong to the child, how had she brought her up so badly that she would do something like this to her own mother? Esther asked herself.

She had been privately jealous of her daughter for some time, if the truth be known. Esther knew that it wasn't really fair to feel that way, and there was nothing the child had done in any definite way she could explain to somebody that would account for the way she felt, but she had certainly felt it, jealous and threatened by the gorgeous, voluptuous teenager she had given birth to. And when George had come into the picture, those feelings had increased. After all, George was much younger, and he himself was used to younger women than Esther, certainly. On top of that, Cindy was just naturally a flirt, and she liked to run around the house in various states of undress, including total nudity.

Selfishly, she actually felt good when, after she married George, Cindy proceeded to give her new husband the cold shoulder. That had relieved her somewhat. She didn't want to have to deal with Cindy pouring on the charm with George and possibly making him less happy with his older wife. But Cindy showed herself to be highly unimpressed with George, and while Esther told George that she was annoyed by her daughter's behavior to the new state of affairs, she was inwardly pleased. Then things started to change. She should have sensed the new turn of events would lead to something like this, but she had been lulled into a feeling of false-security and nearly forgot all of her old fears and jealousies about her daughter. She should have known better, she told herself. As soon as Cindy started acting nicer to George she should have realized that things were starting to take their inexorable course that could only lead to the destruction of the marriage.

"Dammit! Fuck them all!" she cried out, bringing her glass back to her lips and sucking the last drops of Scotch out of them. "My husband… ha! He made a mockery of the word. And my daughter… I never want to see her as long as I LIVE! She may think that I'm joking about that, but I'm not. No. Not by a long shot. If she thinks I'm gonna forgive her after a few days and ask her to come back home, then she is in for one fucking big surprise!" Esther shouted, as if there was someone off in the distance, perhaps Cindy herself, who she was trying to let hear these declarations.

She reached over for the bottle she had set down on the coffee table. As she reached for it she dropped her glass with the ice in it, the cubes falling onto the rug.

"Oh fuck!" she exclaimed. She swayed and nearly fell off the edge of the couch. "Ah… who needs a glass. I'm done with being a lady, Goddammit! What's the use? See what it got me to be a nice respectable lady, for God's sake?"

She grabbed hold of the bottle by the neck and brought it to her lips. She burped and then stuck the bottle in her mouth, swigging down a long gulp of whiskey. She coughed and drooled as she brought the bottle away from her mouth. Her eyes looked bleary. She was shaking and moved back against the couch. She heaved a sigh. She lifted a leg up, leaning it against the back of the couch. This left her pussy open even more. She looked down at her cunt. Her plump, gleaming pink pussy certainly showed no signs of age. She was a sexy, desirable woman. She told herself that it was not a rejection of her own worth and desirability as a woman, but just her bad luck to marry a philanderer and have a Quisling of a daughter in her own house. But as much as she told herself that, her drunken pathetic mind kept arguing that it was a personal rejection, that it was her own fault because she could not be enough of a woman to hold her husband's interest. Maybe she wasn't desirable. Maybe she wasn't a good fuck. Maybe no man could keep a sexual interest in her. She became delirious with self-pity.

She became aware of the direction her mind was going but she seemed unable to halt the pitying, destructive movement. No, she didn't see anyway she could do it alone. She needed a second party, another voice to bring her out of it, to show her she was a desirable, sexy woman, someone who could attract a man's interest and not just his mercenary desires for her money. Like George, that bastard. That was all he wanted, just her money and nothing more.

She wanted somebody to come into the living room with her there and love her and be nice to her, and have no motive for that love, only a sincere appreciation of her worth. If only some gentle knight like that could show up she felt that everything would be okay. He could kiss her and hold her… and could make love to her and show her that she was still a desired, sexual being, that a man could get hard for her and enjoy fucking her. She sighed with hunger for such a man. Her fingers found their way to her open pussy and she touched herself. She grazed her finger over the meat and it made her shiver. She smiled. She had always been a responsive woman. The slightest touch on her pussy could make her start to whimper and pulse and drool her sticky love juice. And when a man shoved his cock into her then she went absolutely wild. She could start coming almost from the first minute a man would start fucking her. She loved sex, and that was why she felt such a paranoia about losing her desirability. She loved the idea of a man getting turned on by her, wanting to screw her and enjoying jamming his cock up her pussy and making her come. They always made her come, too. That was one of the things that made her such a good bed companion. No man looked like a bad lover when they were fucking Esther. They could all make her come, whether they were inept or not, big dicked or small.

She laughed. What was the use of dreaming like that. No gentle knight was going to come into the house and take her in his arms and make love to her as she lay there on her couch getting closer and closer to an alcoholic stupor.

"So what!" she called out, and then fell into a coughing fit. She reached for the bottle of Scotch and took another long swig from it. She gasped as she swallowed the whiskey down her throat. She closed her eyes. "So what if no man comes to rescue me… who needs a man. I can make myself happy yes, all by myself. I don't need any Goddamned cock to make me feel good. I can just use my fingers. Yeah, that's fine, just fine. I can do all right by myself."