The Watsons of Newport

"David, did you hear me," my mother demanded in a strangled tone. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, of course," I said after a moment, "I'm just in shock, mother."

I slowly closed my eyes and my cock stirred and grew as I prepared a drink and just listened to her monologue. Most people found Miranda's voice grating, just as they found her manner intrusive and arrogant. I was just turned on.

"I caught them at it," Miranda said. "I had them followed and then I confronted them, David. They were meeting each other at a cheap motel. It was so ugly."

The story came out. My father had been sleeping with his beautiful young personal assistant, just as my mother suspected. She had hired a reliable man to follow him and had discovered the truth.

"Yes, I see mother," I said, dropping ice cubes into a fresh glass and pouring bourbon in. "Very tawdry."

"Please, don't interrupt me, David," my mother insisted and then continued. "How could your father do this to me? He's shamed the whole family. Everybody is going to talk about it endlessly. How can I show my face at the country club again?"

"I'm so sorry, mother," I whispered, when she paused to take a noisy breath. "He's not fit to tie your shoes. Nobody is."

Miranda stopped talking for a moment. My mother was like a black hole. She constantly needed filling and she always turned to me to be filled. She was so desperate. My mother was the sort of woman who could never be flattered enough. She needed constant adulation. I was really the only person in her life, who was prepared to give it to her. Everybody else in my mother's life was intimidated by her, or disliked her.

Then my mother released a loud long dramatic wail, after her pause. I turned away from the bar and walked naked towards the window. I sipped my drink, looked down at the street far below and watched the traffic slowly move uptown. Miranda talked on and on. My cock was very hard.

"He told me I was a control freak, David," Miranda shrieked with displeasure. "He told me I never give him a moment's peace. He said I just dominate and bully everyone, including him."

"That is a lie, mother," I whispered. "You just care too much. You were trying to take care of him."

"Oh David, thank you for saying that," my mother whined and then she continued her complaint. "He's left me. He came home, packed an overnight bag and just drove away to be with that dirty thing."

"Good riddance," I said with conviction.

I drank again. I walked along the window and out onto the balcony. I stood there without any clothes on, at the railing and drained my glass of bourbon. The cool wind touched me as Miranda's words caressed me.

"Yes, look I know I can be an interfering and intrusive old so and so," my mother said, back tracking to discuss my father's objections to her in more detail. "I just. I just know what's best for people. I don't like to be contradicted David. I can't be disobeyed. I just won't stand for it, David. I won't be contradicted."

I sighed softly. I was so horny.

"I know, mother. You have a strong character. You're smart and you're honorable. You're one of the best women I've ever known."

Miranda sighed and then whined again. I could hear her breathing.

"Oh David, you know how to make me feel so much better. You always say the right thing."

"That's because I'm your biggest fan, mother."

Miranda laughed softly and then her deep need to complain returned again. Finally, she was starting to talk about me. Miranda liked talking about me. I was her favorite topic of conversation. I didn't really like it when she spent too much time discussing my father.

"Your father thinks I meddle in your life too much."

"You never meddle, mother," I said turning and walking back into my apartment.

I lay back on my lounge chair as she spoke. I stroked the tip of my large cock, closed my eyes and just focused on her voice.

"Well, your father thinks I do. Those two girls weren't good enough for you, David. And that silly Kellie – I still don't know why you proposed to her. I couldn't allow that, David. I had to put a stop to that."

"Yes, indeed mother."

"I know that threatening to cut you off financially may have seemed rather harsh. I had to do everything in my power to stop you from making those mistakes."

"Yes, I understand, mother."

"I can't let my darling just marry anyone. We have to find you the right one, David. Not just anyone will do. It takes time and we can't rush these sorts of matters..."

I lay there silently. She just talked on and on and on. I stroked my cock gently with long sweeps of my fist.

I thought about Miranda. I imagined her there before me in my downtown, rooftop apartment. I could clearly see her there, dressed in one of her beautifully tailored suits – maybe that dusty gold and cream one, which clung to her curves and with the plunging neckline, which she liked to wear when we had lunch together. I could see her carefully brushed silver hair and her light piercing eyes with their ever critical and skeptical glow, behind her exquisite spectacles. I thought about her soft red mouth and her fingers and toes. I thought about her beautiful pampered little body. I thought about her flashing jewelry.

"God, I wish you were here right now, mother," I said, breaking into the flow of her monologue. "I need you so badly sometimes."

Miranda stopped talking for a moment. I stroked my cock. There was silence.

"You only need me badly sometimes, David," my mother asked softly, after a moment.

"Okay, okay," I said, "I need you badly all the time, mother."

Miranda laughed. I joined in.

"That's better," she whispered after a moment. "It's nice to be needed, David."

"Oh, you're needed mother."

"Oh darling, I can always rely on you to divert me and keep me entertained. Your father was never able to do that."

"He didn't deserve you," I said. "You're one of a kind, mommy. No man is worthy of you."

Miranda laughed again. We were both silent.

"No man is worthy of me," she whispered after a moment. "Are you sure of that? I can think of one, can't you?"

I broke into a grin. I stopped stroking myself for a moment.

"The one who is worthy of me always listens to my complaints and my criticism for hours on end without growing impatient or fatigued. He always does what he's told. He tells me what I want to hear. He's always on my side. He'll never let me down."

I felt my face grow red. My heart thumped in my chest. I took a deep breath.

"Yes, there is one like that, I guess," I said.

There was silence from her end.

"Mother?"

"You guess," Miranda asked, a sharp critical tone emerging. "Shouldn't he be sure?"

I laughed softly for a few seconds. There was silence on the other end of the phone. I grew worried.

"Yes mommy. He is sure - completely sure."

"Well, we'll see. But I'm not so sure," Miranda said. "In the meantime, maybe he should take an ice cold shower and spend some time thinking about what he really wants."

I laughed softly and self-consciously. There was still more silence.

"Mother," I said desperately, my desire for her grabbing me. "I know what I want."

"I don't think you do, young man. You should take a really long cold shower, David," she insisted.

"Please mother - I need to see you. Let's have dinner tonight. I'll cook or we can go out. There is this wonderful new Italian place. "

Miranda laughed.

"Please, mother."

"I have plans tonight, kiddo," she said coldly. "I have dinner plans. Another male has asked me out, David. He is a young man who doesn't guess, he knows what he wants, he goes for it and he takes it for himself."

"Please mommy. Please mommy."

"I have the perfect sexy dress in mind, David."

I gasped. I was about to say something, but Miranda cut me off.

"Take that cold shower, David. I have to start getting ready for..."

"Who is this mystery man, Miranda," I spat, my temper rising.

"Never mind that," she said calmly.

"Tell me, mother," I demanded.

"I don't think that's any of your business, young man."

"Mother," I insisted.

"You sound like a spoilt child David, stamping your foot because you have to go without. You're nearly 38 years old. You should act your age."

"Tell me mother!"

"He's a silly pouting child being told he can't put his hand in the cookie jar. I mean..."

"Tell me mommy!"

There was an exasperated pause. Then the venomous words were delivered.

"He's a young man, who I met at the country club, if you must know, David. He's a gorgeous young man. He comes from a good family – from the Coles of Newport. He appreciates older women. He's taking me to dinner and I'll be taking him to bed tonight, David. He..."

"What's his first name, mommy?"

"How dare you interrogate me: I'm going to get ready for my dinner date, thank you very much..."

"Please come and have dinner with me tonight, mother. I need you. I need you mommy."

"You just have that cold shower, David and keep having them from now on," Miranda hissed and then she laughed. It was a cold sound. She then hung up on me.

I dropped the phone on the floor at my side. I lay there, stretched out in my lounge chair and stared up at the ceiling with a hard cock. My heart was still thumping and I was breathing hard. I leapt up and strode across the floor to the bar.

I prepared another bourbon on ice for myself - only this time a double. I sat back in my chair, sipped the whiskey and tried not to think about mother.

Images of Miranda floated and drifted across my imagination at will. I could see her seated in the soft and subdued dining area of her club – a beautiful 64 year old woman, dressed exquisitely, her light hair gleaming in the candlelight, her flirtatious eyes resting on a young man, seated on the other side of the table to her.

I drank my bourbon and imagined them speaking to each other crudely in the elegant surroundings. I pictured them together later, outside her dark looming home, at her front door. I could see them talking softly, see the pause and the wordless invitation, see the young man leaning in and Miranda closing her eyes and receiving his kiss. I pictured her taking him in her hand and coaxing him inside. I could hear them at it all night behind closed doors.

It was enough to drive me crazy with jealousy.

I leant down and snatched up the phone. I spilt bourbon on my body. I entered Meryl's phone number. The phone rang and rang. She did not pick up.

"Meryl, I need to see you. Mother has upset me. Please call me back as soon as you can."

I waited 30 seconds. I tried calling my older sister again. The phone rang out. I left another desperate message. I tried calling again and again. I left message after message.

"Damn it Meryl, where are you?"

Finally, I had to do it, as she said I did. I drained the glass and set it down on the floor. I walked naked to the bathroom. I opened the shower door. I reached in and turned on the cold water tap full blast. I stepped in and was instantly drenched in icy water. I spluttered, shivered and raged.

"DAMN YOU MOTHER!"

*******

PART TWO – MY DARLING ANGELS ARRIVE

My life took a truly weird turn just a couple of weeks later. I was supposed to be at the piano, composing a piece of rare quality and real feeling. I was, however, spending most of my time, standing naked on my balcony, with a pair of high powered binoculars, trying to spy on my sexy female neighbors. I continued to drink too much bourbon.

I was also constantly calling Meryl and leaving messages at all hours. I was telephoning her day and night. The phone just rang out on every occasion. She never picked up. She never called me back.

"Meryl, can you please come over here," I ranted into the phone, as I paced about my apartment naked, with a large hard on, "I need you very badly darling! This is really poor form, Meryl! I need your sweet body! Please call me! Please get your divine ass over here right now!"

I left so many creepy and obscene messages for my sister. I was also texting her like mad. I'm sure I was sending her irrational horny gibberish. Did Meryl's husband ever pick up her mobile phone, look through it and see my bizarre unacceptable messages there? He apparently did not - as my sister and her dull spouse were still together, and there didn't seem to be any storm clouds on their horizon.

My vindictive and beautiful mother, meanwhile, was constantly calling me and being a complete nuisance. I saw her number appear on my phone over and over and, of course, I always picked up. I couldn't help myself. She was still seeing her hot young toy from her country club – this poseur – Cole of Newport. She was just ringing me to rub my nose in it. She just wanted to stir me up and make me insanely jealous. Her tactics, of course, worked. I was furious at her and green from head to toe.

"Mother, I am trying to compose," I said in a loud voice, wandering back and forth across the lounge room, drink in hand. "I am trying to create something which will stand the test of time and move people."

Miranda just started laughing cruelly at me.

"I am an artiste, darling," I announced with a flourish.

There was more laughter. Then my mother taunted me.

"Rachmaninoff and Chopin were artistes. They knew what they were doing. You don't know what you're doing. You, darling, can't even compose a jingle for a television commercial!"

"My greatness has not been recognized," I declared.

There was more cruel laughter.

"HA, WELL," I exclaimed into the phone, and then hung up on her.

Then, five minutes later, I was on the phone again with Miranda. I was pacing back and forth across the room with a fresh drink in my hand. Mother was tormenting me.

"You're just jealous darling because I'm sleeping with a gorgeous young man and you missed your chance. Does it make you crazy with rage, knowing he gets to touch me every night and you do not and never will?"

"Oh darling," I exclaimed. "I'll have you! I promise you that! I will be taking father's place in your bed and by your side! Not some worthless Cole from Newport!"

"In your dreams," mother asserted with a shriek and then hung up on me.

A few minutes later we were on the phone with each other again. This is what my life is like. It was never like this for Wagner – he had support. He didn't have to deal with a crazy mother and sister.

I was again on the phone with mother when the next fateful step in my life took place. Miranda was ranting at me and I was lying back on my lounge and touching my cock, while listening to her wonderfully irritating whine.

I heard it. Someone was knocking at my door.

"Mother, I have to go," I announced, "Someone is at the front door."

I hung up on her in mid sentence. I got up from the lounge.

I was wearing my kimono and nothing else. My dick was hard as usual and was poking out from between the kimono as I wandered through the lounge room, down the hall towards the banging on my front door. I was carrying a glass of bourbon.

"Meryl, is that you darling," I demanded as I arrived at the door. "It's about bloody time! I need your ass!"

There was silence and then soft muffled girlish laughter rang out.

I jerked open the front door. Two pairs of bright blue eyes grew wide and dropped to my hard cock instantly. There were gasps. Then they took a step back. They stared up at me. I just stood there silently.

"See, I told you so," my daughter/niece Lucy said, turning to my other daughter/niece Kylie, "you owe me 50 bucks, K."

Kylie snapped her fingers and sighed. The two girls were both looking at my cock again. I sipped my drink.

"You owe me a 20 as well, because I got the size right."

"Damn," Kylie whispered.

"Ladies, may I help you," I asked with a grin on my face.

"Are you going to let us in, Uncle David," Lucy said softly, looking up and flashing me a bright smile, her eyes dropping to my cock again a moment later.

"Yeah, let us come in, Uncle David," Kylie echoed.

"Okay, come in you two troublemakers," I said, stepping back, opening the front door wider, so they could get through.

My two daughter/nieces entered my apartment. I closed the door behind them and followed them into the lounge room. Neither of them had been in my home before. My sister explicitly forbade them from ever coming here. Both girls were breaking the rules. They were both rebellious things.

There was another collective gasp. I drained my glass of bourbon. The ice rattled in the bottom.

"I knew it," Lucy exclaimed, "I told you, K. You owe me another 50."

"Uh oh," Kylie replied.

"What are you betting on," I asked, walking towards them and joining them.

"Well, I bet Kylie a 50 that we would see your dick when you opened the front door. I also bet her a 20 that your dick would be big. I also bet her a 50 that you would have photos of mom and grandma all over the walls."

"Ah, touché," I announced, raising my empty glass to Lucy.

I laughed softly. I watched the two girls approach the walls and stare at the art I had mounted.

"Those paintings of grandma are so seedy, Uncle David," Lucy said. "You are twisted. Do you jerk off to them?"

"Constantly darling – that's what they're there for."

"Creepy," Lucy said.

"I am an artiste, darling Lucy," I said with a flourish, my nose in the air.

Lucy laughed at me. She looked at my cock again. She looked back up at me with a soft smile. It was still poking out from between my kimono.

"Oh my God, L," Kylie said from the other side of the room. "Come and look at this one."

"Pervert," Lucy declared in my face with a cute grin, before she turned and skipped across the lounge room.

I joined the two girls before a large black and white framed photograph of their mother. Meryl was in a standing position with a prostrate submissive male at her feet. She was dressed like a dominatrix. She was carrying a length of bloody looking cane in her hands. My sister looked beautiful and severe. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her light eyes were cold. Her mouth was hard. Her face was impassive. She wore dark glossy tight latex and stilettos on her feet.

"Does she ever put you over her knee and spank you hard, Uncle David," Kylie asked, looking sideways at me.

"Oh hell yeah, she does," Lucy stated.

"No comment girls."

Lucy and Kylie laughed. They both turned to me. They stepped in closer and looked up at me.

"She probably went to town on you," Kylie said. "You probably couldn't sit down for days."

"More like a whole week actually," I said in a matter of fact voice.

There were sharp gasps from the two girls. The three of us burst into laughter a moment later.

"Our family is so fucking twisted," Lucy said. "I love it."

"Have you fucked her," Kylie asked me pointedly.

The two girls stared up at me silently. They were both breathing harder.

"Yes I have," I declared - honestly - after a moment, "many many times."

There were more sharp gasps from the two girls.

"You owe me an extra 100, K," Lucy whispered.

"So twisted," Kylie said. "What about grandma? Have you nailed her as well?"

"Not yet darling, but I will. That woman will be all mine, soon enough."

"Ha, that's a hundred I win, L," Kylie said, looking at her sister triumphantly.

"I'm still ahead, bitch," Lucy stated.

"I need more bourbon, I think."

I strolled across the lounge room, up the stairs and towards the bar.

The two girls followed me. They were both snickering. We arrived at the bar.

"My mother says you're a drunk and a sex addict," Kylie said, looking up at me, stepping in closer.

"She says you're a complete deviant," Lucy added. "She says you're completely hopeless."

I dropped some ice in a fresh glass and poured the bourbon in. I turned and looked at the two girls. Lucy and Kylie were both 19 and were both twins. They were beautiful young things. They were both completing college arts degrees and doing some occasional modeling work for extra bucks and fun.