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(This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author’s consent. For fans of my stories, they know what kinds of things to expect. This story deals with similar themes as the stories by wannabeboytoy, seducedHylas, and Dark Betrayal, namely cheating, betrayal, and heartbreak. This series of stories feature some light sci-fi elements, but for the most part, they are in the background. If stuff like that isn’t your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn’t bother reading it. This chapter and the last are essentially one story split into two parts, so keep that in mind when reading. And finally, I do not condone any of these actions in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.)
“Life is full of choices. Each choice can decide the rest of your life. Life can go in infinite directions. Different permutations, different outcomes. You can literally end up anywhere in life… with anyone. But I honestly feel, from the bottom of my heart, that in each and every one of these different outcomes, different destinies, I would have ended up with you.”
(Timeline F: Helena Cline Conquers Time)
“Well, how about I help you two get up to your room, and I’ll sing you another song… in private.” Jocelyn offered.
“Oh, uh, it’s okay.” Derek replied.
“Well, I am her mother, and I insist on helping out.” Jocelyn said firmly, aggressively moving toward them to take Heather’s arm over her shoulder.
“No, uh, Jocelyn, I’ve got it really.” Derek said, smiling nicely.
“Derek, I know you’re a nice young man, but it is my responsibility as her mother to take over for her since she showed such little restraint and got herself trashed. So budge over, let me help, let me take over.” Jocelyn said.
Derek felt strange defying Jocelyn. He didn’t want their relationship to begin with her being pissed at him, and she looked like the type not to be defied. But Derek was Heather’s husband. She was his responsibility, now. She wasn’t Jocelyn’s to mother anymore. Except… Derek didn’t want to anger Jocelyn.
What would he do?
“No, it’s okay Jocelyn. I’ve got it.” Derek insisted. For a second, Derek saw a look of pure fury on her face. This look startled him for a second. But then her look softened and she smiled.
“Of course.” Jocelyn said, allowing Derek to get by. She stared daggers into the young man. He would pay for that.
Derek moved onward, nearing the exit, only to run into one more Cline woman. Helena.
“I’m sorry for my girls. All of them. I’m sorry Heather got drunk. And I’m sorry about Jocelyn and Jackie. I can’t believe Jocelyn found an excuse to sing again. She always does that. Both of them can be a bit… forceful.” Helena said, rolling her eyes in annoyance at the other Cline women.
“Oh. It’s okay.” Derek said, laughing a bit, relieved to have someone that understood what he was going through.
“Now, I know you’re being nice and a good husband, but if you do need some help with her, I would be happy to do so.” Helena said.
Helena had been extremely helpful, so Derek would feel really bad if he turned her down. But he had to show her he could be a better husband and shoulder the responsibility for Heather. Then again, could he turn down someone who had been so helpful?
“Uh, okay. Sure.” Derek stammered with a smile.
“Very good.” Jocelyn replied with a smile. She approached the happy couple and took her granddaughter’s other arm and put it around her shoulder. Together, they walked out of the reception hall.
“Thankssshh, Grandma.” Heather slurred out.
“Oh, you’re welcome dear.” Helena said, her slightly accented, posh voice shining through. “Heather and I were always particularly close.” Helena began, explaining to Derek.
“Oh, yeah?” Derek replied.
“Yes, very much so.” Helena began, “I don’t know if you noticed but, her mother and her sister can be a bit… much. They can be a bit… bitchy.”
“Oh, uh, they seemed okay to me.” Derek replied civilly.
“Well, you don’t know them.” Helena said. “Jocelyn and Jackie are exceedingly similar. Both of them love the life of luxury that I provided for them. I have seen it happen a lot. Many are women born into luxury end up being very closed off. Very obsessed with the life of extravagance, with their money, and especially those two, with themselves. Those two don’t do anything for anyone else unless it helps them. They only care about something if it benefits them. Those two are peas in a pod. Both love money, clothing, fashion… men. “
“Uh, okay.” Derek said, confused as to where this was going.
“That is why Heather and I grew close. Her mother and her sister never understood her. She is different. She is above the trivialities of luxury that Jocelyn and Jackie revel in. She is a special girl. So… me and her bonded. We grew very close. She would spend her summers with me, away from those two and their very… forceful… personalities. I did my best to let her grow into the woman she wanted to be, not the girl her mother keçiören escort and her sister wanted her to be. And despite their best efforts, I think she turned into a lovely young woman. You’re a lucky man, Derek.” Jocelyn said, smiling at her granddaughter’s husband.
Derek smiled back. Helena seemed a lot different than both his new mother-in-law and his new sister-in-law. She seemed a lot softer, a lot more warm and friendly. Derek felt a lot less guarded around Helena than he did around the other two.
That was his first mistake.
Derek had no idea what he was getting into with Helena. He had no idea what this old lady was capable of.
Helena did not look like a grandmother. Sure, she looked older, but she didn’t look old. She looked barely old enough to be Heather’s mother, let alone her grandmother. And her body… it didn’t scream that she was a grandmother. It screamed for something else entirely.
Much like the other women in her family, she was shockingly beautiful. Derek never thought much about older ladies being attractive, but she definitely changed his mind on that. This woman could compete with women half her age.
Helena Cline was Heather’s grandmother. But she was a grandmother in name only, cause looking at her did not make you think about her being a grandmother. You think of grandmothers as rickety old women who stayed at home, watched soap operas, baked cookies, and knit. With Helena, nothing could be farther from the truth.
Helena rarely stayed at home, simply because she had many homes. She traveled the world, from place to place, having homes built in her favorite places. She owned a mansion in Great Britain on property once lived on by royalty. She owned a vineyard in central France, not only providing a place to live but also acted as one of her many money making ventures. She owned a place in Sydney right in the heart of the city. She had a large home built in her hometown in the U.S. along the Atlantic Ocean, allowing her to return home but not be forced to live in squalor. And then there was her favorite, where she spent most of her time, at her villa nestled in southern Italy.
Helena didn’t sit still, let alone watching soap operas or any of that bullshit. She was too busy. She was very different from Jocelyn and Jackie in that her only motivation wasn’t just to get laid (Not to say that that she wasn’t getting her fair share). No, Helena was a true renaissance woman.
She had started from humble beginnings, being raised by poor immigrant parents. She lived a modest life, never having much, never asking for more, until she grew breasts. Once Helena went from a child to a young woman, her opinions began to change. Once she saw the effect her body had on men, men of great wealth, her opinion began to change. Her resentment of her life of poverty grew, until she couldn’t resist the temptations she was being offered. She left home at 15, shacked up with some young rich guy, and never looked back.
Helena was not a woman with a great work ethic, but she was a woman of great cunning. Her goal early on was not of being a married, stay at home wife. No, she was acting on instinct. On self-preservation. She functioned with a great distrust of the rich and powerful, so she felt no guilt when she drained their bank accounts into hers, leaving them bankrupt. Sure, this was as cold-blooded move, but these were cold-blooded businessmen, so in her view, this was simply a business transaction, with the superior business woman winning. That being… her.
Helena worked her way through the wealthy men of her time, draining them dry. The word was soon out on her, but she kept succeeding. Why, you might ask? Because she was a hot, sexy, filthy whore. In the period of time this happened, being a whore had a stigma to it, more so than now, and still she was successful. How could these men resist that hot young blonde with the killer body?
Within years, Helena had more money than she ever would need, leaving various bankrupt men in her wake, and Helena was left unpunished for her actions, the men she had bankrupt being so defeated that they didn’t have the resources to find her.
And for many years, sex was business. Sex was her job. Sex was her weapon. Sex was her way to get into very rich men’s bank accounts and run wild. Sex was a tool she used to destroy men’s livelihood. But most of her damage was done in her earlier years. When she looked back, she felt a lot of guilt. What she did to those men had been evil. She blamed it on the impetuousness of her youth. And she had been raised poor, so she justified what she did as a survival mechanism, a way to insure her safety and to live a life where she would never have to worry about money again. And she had succeeded.
But she had changed. She knew she had been playing a dangerous game. She knew she was lucky she didn’t cross paths with the wrong kinds of people. So unlike most, once she got comfortable, she chose to evolve. To change and grow from her selfish youth into something… more. And she did. She had succeeded, keçiören escort bayan as she always did. She was as worldly as anyone could be. She had become a woman of many talents, as opposed to a woman with just one. Wealthy beyond words, without working a day in her life, still Helena sought more. Now that she had monetary success, she sought success of the mind, body, and spirit.
Helena climbed the tallest mountains, and set foot on all seven continents. She dined with the most rich and powerful people in the world, including four presidents. She met with spiritual leaders all over the world, from the jungles of Africa to the densest forests in Asia. She practiced martial arts in a temple untouched by modern society. She painted pictures of the most gorgeous landscapes any person could see. She traversed deserts and oceans, icy tundras and rolling plains. She interacted with more cultures than most people knew existed. If it was possible to own life, to dominate your own existence, Helena did it. In her mind she was not driven purely by sex and luxury, like Jackie and Jocelyn. She sought something more. She sought to consume and ingest every aspect of life, to experience it all. And experience it all she did.
As she reached her forties, she had felt nearly totally fulfilled. She had seen so many things in life that very little surprised or wowed her. She couldn’t think of much else to do with her time. But she still felt that little bit of something, something she had ignored for far too long. She had been ignoring the desires of her needy, desperate-to-be-filled cunt for a long time. She had tried to be disciplined and to move on from that way of life. She didn’t want to be the filthy, evil slut she used to be. But she still needed to get fucked stupid. She was dying for it.
She tried to fight it. She tried to fight her needs. She tried to maintain her discipline. But she could not stop thinking about it. She couldn’t stop thinking about thick cocks filling all of her holes to the brim. She tried to fight it off for the longest time until eventually, she asked herself why. Why was she fighting this? Why was she fighting what her body was starving for? She wasn’t an impetuous brat anymore. She could control herself. She wouldn’t lose herself.
In her younger years, she had sex for two reasons. To slake her raging hormones and to gain power over men. Helena had always loved sex, but it never drove her like it did with others. She would never call herself a slut, even though she probably was one. Hey, when you’re a mother at 17, there was definitely a bit of slut in you. But to her, sex was a power play, and she was always the victor. It wasn’t until her forties that she gained an appreciation for sex in and of itself. It wasn’t till her forties that Helena became a complete filthy whore. Helena had more sex in her forties and beyond than she did in the years before. She had indulged in life for so long that she finally realized it was time to indulge herself. And boy, Helena did. Helena indulged herself in the sickest, nastiest, most fucked up kinds of sex she could. Sex for her pleasure alone, so she could cum, and the pleasure of the man was unimportant. Helena had experimented in all sorts of practices that enriched her mind. Now, she experimented in all sorts of practices that pleasured her body. All sorts of filthy, nasty sex acts that a woman of her age should not be doing. She was doing things most thought only young whores could do. And those men soon learned that only a filthy old whore like her could do those sex acts justice. Only a mature slut like her could do them right. It took an old skank like her to give men real sex.
And besides, there were precedents with women like her. She knew lots of very rich powerful women who had worked very hard to reach the top levels of society. And she had watched as each and every one of them reached a certain age and began to pull away. Pull away from trying to better their social status, away from trying to pad their hefty bank accounts. Most of the women she knew that were like her had all done the same thing. They pulled away from their many pursuits and began to indulge themselves a bit. As those powerful women turned 40 or so, they reached the same crisis Helena, and most had come to the same solution:
They spent most of their 40’s getting fucked.
They spent most of their 40’s on their backs, receiving the pleasures they so richly deserved. Finally indulging the pleasures they had withheld for too long. Didn’t Helena deserve the same? Didn’t she earn the right to get fucked too? Sure, she had done some bad things, really bad things. But she had changed… evolved… becoming someone far more beneficial than the slut she used to be. She had punished herself for that past behavior by withholding herself that kind of pleasure? Hadn’t she punished herself enough? Hadn’t she earned this?
Yes, she realized. Yes she did.
But she couldn’t go back to her old ways. Her tastes had to evolve as well. No more fucking old men and stealing their money. She escort keçiören needed something different. Something more fulfilling, something to satisfy her need for spiritual growth and her intellectual curiosity. Higher level type sex. She needed something more advanced, a better form of sex, one more fitting of an evolved renaissance woman like her.
So she started fucking young guys with big, fat cocks.
And boy, she had indulged herself. For many years this was her life. Filthy, nasty fucking. That was how she spent her 40’s, indulging her never-ending itch. And she was disappointed to find the stimulation she found with those nameless meatheads was far more fulfilling than any she had encountered in the years prior. She was dismayed that after all she had done to become more knowledgeable and progressive, in the end, it was those young guys with their pulsing cocks that brought her far more fulfillment.
Helena craved fulfillment. She craved comfort, a comfort she was afraid she would never find. She was afraid she could never just settle. Never be satisfied. Never want anything more. The sex she had was good. Very, very good. But, it was just missing something. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You don’t have lots of sex when you are totally satisfied. You have lots of sex when you’re chasing a pleasure you can’t quite reach. It needed something… that extra edge. And she was ashamed to admit in her younger years, those unrestrained years of being a filthy evil slut, in those days, she was never left wanting more. The extra edge of those sexual couplings, that evil, nasty edge that she was ashamed of was in fact what she truly needed. She needed sex at a different level. A higher level. A darker, twisted level.
So despite her great experience in life, Helena came to this wedding no better than Jocelyn or Jackie. After everything she had been through, she was just like those two: a nasty fucking whore. A slut who was driven, who was consumed by her thirst for sex. For so many years, she had thought of herself as better than that, but now, she had become the slut she was meant to be. Because when you take one look at her, you can tell that’s what she’s built for.
Even though Helena was a few years beyond fifty, how many she would never say, she was as hot as anyone. As hot as Jackie. As hot as Jocelyn. Possibly… probably… hotter. Her face was still strikingly gorgeous, the look of a classy, mature older woman. Helena’s face had just a hint of the slut underneath, evidenced by her eyes, her striking blue eyes, windows to the soul, displaying just a clue that Helena was a bit wicked. Sure, she had a few wrinkles, but she looked younger and sexier than women ten years younger than her. She had full, soft plump lips, a trait that ran in the family. Even though she was a bit older, her skin did still look smooth and soft to the touch. Jocelyn had inherited her creamy pale skin, but it didn’t hold a candle to Helena’s silky casing. Her blonde hair still looked full, shiny and sexy, cut stylishly to still look fashionable.
Helena couldn’t help but compare her body to those of Jackie and Jocelyn. And in her opinion, Helena’s body won out in every single way. Helena was fitter than them, maintaining a flat belly, fit body, and great stamina. Her legs were a little longer, a little firmer and a lot sexier. Her hips were wide and divine, a hint that her body was built to carry children. Sure, Jackie and Jocelyn had great butts. Spectacular asses. Firm… perky… round… ripe. But Helena’s ass was a bit firmer. A bit more perky. A bit more round. A bit more ripe. Her ass sat along the rear of her body like a shelf, a perfect handhold for horny men. And then… there were her tits.
Jackie’s were DDs. Ripe, young, DDs. Jocelyn’s were EEs. Mature, firm EEs. But Helena was packing something bigger. Something better. Helena was marching around with a pair of ripe… juicy… firm… perky… soft… silky… mouth watering…
Helena Cline had a pair of FF breasts! Fucking incredible, all natural FF breasts. Still perky. Still round. Still sexy. A mature older woman packing a pair of giant FF breasts was a rare thing indeed. And Helena knew how to use them to great effect. Great big breasts, somehow still perky and riding high. They appeared even bigger thanks to her tightly cut black dress, which molded to her fit, mature frame. While both Jackie and Jocelyn believed in the policy of showing as much skin as they could get away with, Helena knew that the fun was in the tease. So even though her sexy dress went down to her ankles, the way it fit her body and only showed a hint of her juicy, mature cleavage helped her maintain a classy appearance while letting everyone know about the rocking body she possessed.
Even though she was well past forty when she realized her true slut potential, she had more than made up for lost time. In the years since she became consumed by sex, she had had more action than Jackie and Jocelyn. Combined. And Jocelyn and Jackie were complete sluts, so Helena was having a lot of fucking sex. And with a body like hers, she had her choice of lovers. And as her sexual renaissance blossomed, her tastes evolved. In her younger years, her tastes veered towards the rich, distinguished older men that could give her money. Now, her tastes veered towards the buff, energetic young men who could make her cum.
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