MichelleP
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jun 16, 2008
- Posts
- 680
I was 19 and what had seemed like a lifetime, I was stranded at home with my bitch mother. My father had left when I was young, so she was my only parental figure in my life. As if the rotating door of men throughout most of my younger years wasn't enough, she was a complete insufferable bitch-on-wheels to be around most of the time.
Most of the men she hung around with were just trying to get in her pants (and succeeded), but around the time I graduated high school, she got married to a pretty decent guy who soon became my ally in dealing with her daily bullshit. By the summer of when I was 19, I was working at the local mall and going to the local community college part-time. I had just come home from my job when my mom was on another rampage.
"You ingrateful little bitch, Amber!" she shouted, as soon as I walked in the door.
I rolled my eyes. "Hello to you, too, mom," I said, checking my phone as I walked past her towards my room.
"The one job you have around here is to get the groceries every week, and you STILL don't do it. Your stepfather and I let you live here rent-free and you STILL piss me off."
"I have a paper due for school in two days, I'll get the groceries after work tomorrow, relax."
"Yeah, procrastinate, as always!" my mother shouted. "I need a fucking Prozac," she said. It didn't look like my stepfather was home let. Partly, I wished he was home because he would take some of her (negative) attention away from me. But, he was also the closest thing I ever had to a father figure. Yet, I thought of him as something more, sometimes. He was warm and compassionate, and good looking, with a great body for his age. I liked spending time with him, it was infectious, and sometimes, I was even jealous of my mom, because he was wasted on her.
Most of the men she hung around with were just trying to get in her pants (and succeeded), but around the time I graduated high school, she got married to a pretty decent guy who soon became my ally in dealing with her daily bullshit. By the summer of when I was 19, I was working at the local mall and going to the local community college part-time. I had just come home from my job when my mom was on another rampage.
"You ingrateful little bitch, Amber!" she shouted, as soon as I walked in the door.
I rolled my eyes. "Hello to you, too, mom," I said, checking my phone as I walked past her towards my room.
"The one job you have around here is to get the groceries every week, and you STILL don't do it. Your stepfather and I let you live here rent-free and you STILL piss me off."
"I have a paper due for school in two days, I'll get the groceries after work tomorrow, relax."
"Yeah, procrastinate, as always!" my mother shouted. "I need a fucking Prozac," she said. It didn't look like my stepfather was home let. Partly, I wished he was home because he would take some of her (negative) attention away from me. But, he was also the closest thing I ever had to a father figure. Yet, I thought of him as something more, sometimes. He was warm and compassionate, and good looking, with a great body for his age. I liked spending time with him, it was infectious, and sometimes, I was even jealous of my mom, because he was wasted on her.