Omen Pt. 01

WARNING

The story contains themes of cuckoldry and voyeurism.

"When are you gonna fix your fucking AC, man?" Dylan complained, wiping his forehead with the back of the hand that wasn't holding the controller.

His dirty-blonde hair stuck to his temples where it was growing longer. The sweat that was starting to bead on his skin had the side effect of making the waviness of his hair even more obvious.

I scoffed. "You don't ever wear a shirt anyway. What would change?"

Dylan punched my shoulder.

"Ow!"

"At least I'm not scared of taking my shirt off."

"Hey! I'm not fucking scared," I defended myself. "I'm just not a fucking show-off like you."

He gave me a grin as a response. "I could dare you to take it off, but I don't want you to think I'm gay."

I rolled my eyes and shoved my shoulder into his.

That was our dynamic. Dylan and I went way, way back. We met at summer camp when I was six and he was five. Some guy had pushed me in the lake, and Dylan had gotten in trouble for fighting with the kid on my behalf.

From that point, no matter what Dylan said or did, I knew he had my back, and the opposite was true. I knew more about him than his parents, probably, and he certainly knew more about me than mine. We had always told each other everything. I knew what day of what year Dylan had lost his virginity and with who, and he carefully avoided the topic that I still hadn't lost mine, knowing I was insecure about it.

We were comfortable hanging out in silence, just the two of us. It felt natural. People joked that we were joined at the hip. Dylan was... probably the most important person in my life.

I had watched him grow into a young man. My eye never lingered (I wasn't gay), but it noticed. At eighteen, Dylan was really starting to fill out. While I was a late bloomer, still scrawny and smooth, Dylan had strong arms, and a muscular, athletic torso he'd developed from gymnastics, with a little bit of body hair around his nipples and navel.

It seems like I've spent a lot of time staring at him, but trust me ; every hundred times I take a quick one-second peek at his body adds up to me having a pretty extensive knowledge of his physique. It was really hard not to compare myself, which always left me feeling slightly emasculated.

He had gone shirtless an hour into our Celeste video-game marathon, courtesy of my busted AC. My dad was supposed to fix it when he'd come back from his biology seminar in Australia, but that was still five or so days away.

The open window of my crammed bedroom didn't seem to help, only letting in the sun-baked air, thick as quicksand, without a trace of wind.

"Get off your phone, loser," I told him. He was sitting on the floor, his back resting against my bed frame.

He didn't respond, seeming very interested in what he was seeing.

"I saidget off your phone, and put some fucking deodorant on for the life of God!"

"Dude," he smiled. "I just found somethinginsane. Literally insane."

"Sienna nudes?" I asked rhetorically, grabbing a handful of barbecue chips and stuffing them in my mouth.

"No, you idiot. You know how I hang out on these weird, kinky online message boards?"

"Yeah?"

"Someone just posted a link to a fuckingfertility spellwebsite. That's what they call it anyway. Check it out."

He handed me his phone.

The website had a weird retro, low-budget aesthetic to it. The page was fuschia, with a large heart-shaped button in the middle of the page, with "Activate" written in italics on it. On either side of the button were text boxes. On the left, the box was titled 'Caster', and the one on the right was called 'Target'.

A text in small white letters, almost indistinguishable because of the bright background color, explained what the 'spell' was about :

Control the elusive and oneiric tides of desire and ensure fruitfulness, using a simple spell that binds the target and the caster together for a moment and a lifetime. Be warned that the target may become foreign during the spell's duration, and that the spell is more effective if there is already attraction between the two parties.

I made a face, passing the phone back to Dylan. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"The poster said it was like a love spell. It makes the person obsessed with you."

"Dylan."

"What?"

"Are you four years old?"

He grinned. "What do you mean?! I know it's bullshit!"

"Then why are we wasting time talking about this instead of finishing the fucking playthrough of Celeste?"

"Because I dare you."

I sighed.

"Here we go again..."

"I dare you to put me and your mom in there and press the button."

I blinked, processing his words.

"You're fucking kidding me," I said, like a statement more than a question.

Dylan's eyes were twinkling with playful malice. "You and I both know it's bullshit, so there should be no problem, right? If you don't do it, you're the biggest pussy of all time. You believe in magic, huh? Is that it?"

"Fuck no, I don't believe in that shit. It's just... my mom, dude? Really?"

"What? It's not like I like her or anything. It's just funny. Come on."

I sighed again. Dylan and I had a habit of daring each other to do stupid shit. I knew that if I didn't do it, Dylan would get on my case for weeks. Plus, it wasn't a very difficult dare, since nothing was going to happen.

Mechanically, I wrote down the two names : Dylan Dawson under 'Caster', and Celia Thomson under 'Target'.

My finger hovered over the button. It was like some part of me knew that this simple motion, this half-inch movement forward, this feather-light tap of my finger would change the course of my life forever.

It was as if Dylan's expecting gaze forced my finger down onto the screen.

Tap.

We waited for a few seconds in a thrilled silence.

"You... feel any different?" I asked Dylan, with a corner smile that was ready to bloom into laughter the second it was confirmed that the spell was, in fact, bullshit.

"Dude..." he said, eyes widening, one hand going straight to his heart.

My smirk widened, "Stop bullshitting me, Dawson."

The smile faded when my eyes lowered on his basketball shorts ; they were tented.

"Yo, Dawson! That is gross, man! We talk about my mom for five seconds and you get hard?"

"Hey," he said, sounding hesitant. "I'm telling you, dude, it's not a normal boner. You tapped the button and my dick started going nuts."

He shuffled in place, looking visibly uncomfortable, and covered his groin with his hands.

"Fucking sure, man. Tell me another one."

Magic wasn't real. It couldn't be. We weren't living in a fairytale universe. How could the stupid spell even distinguish between this Dylan Dawson and another dude with the same name living in Arizona or something? If it turned out this was Dylan's way of telling me he had a crush on my mom, I would punch him in the face.

We heard the footsteps first, and then the door of my bedroom opened.

"Boys, I was thinking you might need some refreshments!"

My mother, or Celia for friends, or Mrs. Thomson for Dylan, was standing in the doorway, balancing a platter with two glasses of lemonade in one hand. Her experience as a server showed. She was tall, with long brown hair falling across her shoulders. A hint of freckles dotted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was wearing a white tanktop, visibly without a bra. I averted my eyes, feeling like a total pervert.

"That's awesome, Mrs. Thomson. Thank you!" Dylan said, grinning.

Ever the charmer. His arms were strategically crossed over his groin.

"I'm sorry again for the air conditioning, Dylan, Luke is supposed to fix..."

My mom's voice trailed off when she turned to look at my best friend.

I looked at her face. Her pupils were starting to dilate, at an abnormal rate.

"Mom?" I said, worry creeping into my tone.

Was she having a heart attack? Or an aneurysm?

The platter of lemonade fell to the ground in a crash, and the liquid spilled over the floor, soiling the dirty socks I hadn't picked up yet.

"What the fuck?!" I reacted.

Mom stepped over shards of broken glass and walked straight to where Dylan was sitting.

Part of me knew what was going on before I could even process it, but I wouldn't admit it to myself yet.

I turned to Dylan, who seemed just as confused as I was.

"Mrs. T, do you need help cleaning up..."

His voice trailed off as she knelt before him, her ample breasts almost already spilling out of her tanktop.

"What the hell?!" Dylan said as my mom pushed his arms away from his nether region.

What happened next would be engraved in my mind forever.

My mother, the woman who knew how Dylan liked his sandwiches, who had always been like a second mother to him, hooked her thumbs in the waistband of Dylan's shorts, andpulled.

My best friend's erect penis sprung free, gloriously, like it had been begging to be out in the open. The recoil of it springing made it slap against his lower abs, and the force of it rang out, a loudSMACK, so powerful it sent a bead of his precum flying in a cursed arc straight onto my cheek.

I sat there, my best buddy's precum wetting my cheek, trying and failing to make sense of what was going on.

Dylan's dick wasmassive. Long, way longer than mine, and thick, too. I mean, it wasn't like I didn't know already. He liked to brag about it, making everyone roll their eyes, and I had caught him jerking off once by accident, but... I had never seen it likethis, in such a glorious state. His balls were already tightening with arousal.

I was caught between disgust, shock and anger at my mother.

"What are... what the fuck?!" Dylan said.

"What is going on?!" I shouted. "Mom, put it away!"

It was like my mother was deaf. Her hand grabbed at Dylan's cock, her fingers unable to fully meet, and starting slowly stroking it, her mouth wide open and drool starting to drip from it.

"The spell!" Dylan yelled. "It's fucking real, Isaac! Dude, do something! There must be a way to stop it!"

Frantically, I pawed at Dylan's phone and retrieved the spell's web page. There was a link to frequently asked questions, and I hurriedly clicked on it.

I didn't need to look to know what was making those wet, slurping sounds. Dylan wasn't stopping her.

I scrolled until I found information about breaking the spell. It was the very last question on the page.

Q : How does one end the spell?

A : Only when the caster's sperm cell has successfully fertilized the target's egg can the spell end.

That was... that was it. Nothing else was written on the page.

"Wake up, Mrs. Thomson!" Dylan was trying to say. "Oh, God... this is... fuck..."

"Shit!" I said.

"What? What is it, dude?"

"Fuck, fuck,fuck. It says..."

"What does it say?!"

"It says you have to fuck her, man! The spell will end once she's pregnant!"

"Oh, fuck..."

I wasn't sure if Dylan was reacting to my information or my mother's blowjob, but he sounded defeated.

"I can't... I can't do that, Thomson!"

"Well, you have to, buddy. Shit..."

I couldn't believe it, still. Magic wasreal, and it wasn't wizards shooting fireballs at goblins ; it was a website casting a love spell.

And now my best friend was going to have to fuck my own mother.

I wiped at the droplet of Dylan's precum with my hand. It was slightly sticky.

Dylan pushed mom off of his dick. A string of saliva stretched between her mouth and the glistening tip of my friend's cock.

"Dude..." he said. "You... you should look away. Get out of here."

"I will," I said mechanically. The truth was, I couldn't force myself to stare at anything but what was happening in front of me.

Dylan stood up, his enormous penis jutting out of his body like an arrow, and knelt on my bed. My mom followed him, getting on her hands and knees in front of him.

"Isaac, man..."

"Shut up. Shut up and just fucking get on with it."

He gulped, then pulled down my mom's leggings, exposing her bare ass and panties that were so wet their powder blue looked more like navy blue now.

"Okay... shit. Here I go," warned Dylan.

He was gonna do it. He wasactuallygonna do it.

He grabbed the base of his cock and aimed it at my mother's opening. He rubbed the spongy head along her thigh, making her gasp and moan softly. She was an animal, a beast, her wetness dripping out of her. Dylan nudged her panties to the side with the head of his cock and notched it in place.

"Do it, Dylan! Enter me!"

So shecould speak. She wasn't completely gone, and she was begging to be fucked raw by my best friend.

I knew I should've gotten to my feet and left my room, but something kept me pinned to the ground. My eyes widened, drinking in the sight of my childhood best friend's cock slowly sinking into my mother.

My head was spinning ; it was like everything was happening in slow motion.

My mother moaned, loud, so loud it was almost a scream. Her lips parted around the fat, girthy cockhead. There were wet sounds as Dylan slowly, delicately entered her.

Dylan grunted, head falling back as he bottomed out inside my mom. I could see the fuckingbulgeof his cock in her lower belly. His furred pelvis was flush with her ass, and he stayed like that for a moment before pulling out slightly, then pushing back in.

Soon enough, he had established a rhythm. My cheap IKEA bed frame started knocking against the wall with each of his thrusts, and my mom was loving it. She was thrusting back onto him, adding to her own pleasure. She was moaning so loud that the reminder my bedroom window was open made me wince. Still, I couldn't get on my feet. All I could do was watch as Dylan fucked my mom ever harder.

He was enjoying it. The fucker was enjoying it. He probably had been fantasizing about my mom forever, and now he got to have her.

As he sped up, his ballsack started swinging and slapping against her wet folds, spraying a fine mist of her juices. As he fucked her, his abs tightened, a washboard of toned muscle.

"I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come!" my mother started moaning.

Dylan grinned, a scary, hungry grin. He had forgotten all about me sitting right there.

"Yeah? Come on my dick, then. Tell me you love this fat cock."

"I love your fat cock!" mom moaned.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Dylan was a sex god. His hips were rolling as he thrust into my mother roughly, and he was grabbing her hips, pushing her back onto his cock as he ravaged her.

I had never been inside a woman. The size of his manhood almost made my dick shrivel up in shame, its size laughable next to his.

I had always known Dylan was... well, better than me at most things. I just never expected to have such a front-row seat to it. He reached forward and pulled at the collar of her tanktop, tearing it and freeing her breasts. He grabbed one and kneaded at the flesh, grabbing and pinching at her nipple. That seemed to really get her going.

"OH, GOD!" my mother screamed as she came.

The spray of liquid reached my bare arm, and I recoiled in disgust, wiping at myself with my sleeve.

"Fuck, yeah, I just made Mrs. Thomson squirt!" Dylan bragged as he fucked her through her orgasm.

He turned his head and seemed to remember I was there. His thrusts lost in speed and amplitude, and he made a face at me.

"Fuck... I'm- ngh... I'm... huh... I'm sorry, Thomson... your mom is... just..."

"Shut the fuck up, Dawson."

"No... I'm sorry... I mean it... this is... so fucked up..." he continued as he kept thrusting into my mother.

"You can barely fucking speak. Focus on finishing, you fucking asshole."

I knew it was the only way for the spell to break, but still. He didn't have to enjoy it as much, especially when my mother's consent was very much doubtful.

He picked up the pace again, presumably trying his best to ejaculate as soon as possible.

I watched as my best friend's hands grabbed at my mother's breasts. I watched as his pubes started to mat with her slick. I watched the skin of her ass bounce with every thrust. I couldn't look away. He was good, so good that he was making her squirt. His fucking magic enormous cock, probably over nine inches long, was making her come over and over again. I could just sit there and watch, feeling my two-incher shrivel up inside my body. I knew I would never please a woman like that with my dick.

Then,finally, Dylan's rhythm broke.

"Fuck! I'm gonna come!"

"Come inside me!Breedme!" my mother begged.

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna... AAHH!"

He speared her with his cock one last time, his body arched backwards in pleasure, and started shooting ropes of his sperm inside my still-fertile mother. I could almost see the jizz pumping up through his shaft and spraying inside her. His balls tightened and released in waves as they unloaded in my mother.

Mom groaned in pleasure as she was filled to the brim, rubbing her hips against Dylan's, coaxing more and more semen out of his balls.

I could almost see it. The sperm cells being released and swimming in a tight race, searching for an egg to fertilize.

Nausea welled up in me as my brain finally caught up with what it had seen. Dylan Dawson, the kid who had cried when Aubrey had broken up with him in seventh grade, the guy who played my favorite songs in the car when he knew I felt down, the only person I trusted with all my secrets, had fucked my mother raw in front of me and had ejaculated inside her. How the fuck was I supposed to wake up everyday and tell that woman 'good morning' when I'd just watched her get absolutely demolished by my best friend?

My mother was curling up and clinging to Dylan, who was now laying on his back in my bed, panting hard.

I thought I had seen the worst of it. Not by a mile.

Dylan's softening cock slipped out of my mother's pussy, and the sheer sight of it almost made me throw up then and there.

Her lips were open wide, red and puffy, slick with her love juices. Her genitals looked like they'd taken a beating.

The worst part was the sperm.

It was running out of her in thick white blobs and more transparent streams. That was the content of my best friend's balls, his genetic material. His fucking baby batter.

Some of it dripped down my mother's pussy onto my comforter. My bed was completely ruined, wet with squirt and, now, semen.

My mother whined softly, grasping at Dylan's shoulders and pulling herself as close to him as possible.

Dylan was catching his breath. "Dude... Isaac..."

"Shut up," I breathed.

"I'm sor-"

"Shut the fuck up!"

He shut his mouth.

The aftermath of their lovemaking was a cataclysm. It was still extremely hot in my room. My naked mother was laying on my naked best friend's chest. The smell of sex and sperm filled the room. Ironically, the open window let in the calming song of cicadas.

"Dawson, you... you just fucked my mom."

"I did. I'm... I'm so sorry, dude. I never thought the spell would be... I don't... know what the fuck just happened. You shouldn't have seen any of this."

"What if she gets pregnant?" I asked.

Dylan blinked. His cock was laying on his thigh, still sizeable in its flaccid state. It actually looked bigger soft than mine was when erect.

"If... well, if we want the spell to be over, then she will be," Dylan stated matter-of-factly.

"What happens then? Does she get rid of it?" I asked him.

He bit the inside of his lip.

"I don't know. I don't think we can make that decision for her. You think she'd keep it?"

I shrugged. "I don't fucking know."

There was a bit of silence as I got up and rubbed at my eyes. It did nothing to erase the image of Dylan's thick cockhead notching itself between my mother's pussy lips.