Three scenes from the weeks following the beginning of my sexual relationship with my mother:


On the morning of my graduation, I still wasn’t sharing a bed with mom. We were still a little skittish about things—well, mom was, and she wanted to set some boundaries. But that morning I woke up to the warm, buzzy feeling of her sucking my cock. She gently massaged my tight, full balls with her right hand, while her left hand alternated between stroking my cock and rubbing my leg as she worked to get as much of me in her mouth as she could.

I wanted to pretend I was asleep until I came, but after about five minutes of her sucking my cock, slicking me up with her wet mouth, she could feel me firm my hips and thrust forward slightly to better fill her mouth. She removed her lips from the head of my cock with a wet, sexy pop, and we smiled at each other.

Wordlessly, she pulled herself up slightly so I could see the thin tank top she was wearing, her nipples obscenely visible through the sheer fabric. When she pulled the top off her tits jiggled. Watching them move, my whole lower body tightened. A drop of precum emerged from the tip of my cock, a sticky wetness to cap off my cock that was still wet from mom’s expert sucking.

Mom stroked me slowly, angling my cock against her full tits.

“Cum for mommy, baby,” she said. “I’m gonna keep this cum all over my tits all day today, so I know how good my boy makes me feel.”

It wasn’t long before I came, thick cummy tendrils slapping my mom’s chest and lower neck—ropes of cum, one after the other, reckless and beautiful as a splatter painting.

Purring, she rubbed the thick mess around and around her tits, massaging it into her skin. We kissed and held each other, my softening cock nestled in her thick pubic hair. She was as good as her word that day. Later she would tell me how proud she was of me sitting in the stands watching me get my diploma, and how close she felt to me because my cum was on her skin.


At a graduation party I wound up fooling around with a girl I knew from one of my classes. Her name was Katie and she was fat in what I thought a very sexy way—wide, round hips and a curvy ass that ratched up and down nicely when she walked, full tits that she liked to emphasize with low-cut v-neck tops, and a cherubic face highlighted with hornrimmed glasses and her preferred fuck-me red lipstick. Mom was my ideal as far as body types went, but I loved curves in general, and Katie projected a lot more confidence and sexiness than a lot of the skinny girls I knew.

She must have noticed me looking at her and thinking about this as I stood in the corner of a busy apartment living room, working on my third red plastic cup of Jack and coke. Holding a beer bottle, she came over to me, only a little slightly stumbly, and said hello. She placed a hand on my shoulder and stood close to me, her tits nearly touching my chest. She was wearing a flowing green dress cut above the knee and displaying plenty of cleavage. I put a hand on her lower back as we said hello, getting into each other’s personal space more than we would if we were sober.

She cut off the small talk quickly. “So you were the one who was always checking out my ass in sociology,” she said, smiling.

“I don’t think I was the only one,” I said.

She leaned me a little more. My hand slipped lower, practically cupping her ass. Nobody was watching.

“Well,” she said, taking a pull from her beer, “you were the one I noticed.”

Pretty soon we were kissing. A drunk frat boy passed us on his way to the kitchen and gave me a judgmental look that seemed to say, “Way to lower your standards with the fat chick.” I shot him a look that tried to say, Fuck you. This girl with unbelievable curves is all over me.

Katie and I found a closet, where we began going at each other more intensely. I groaned something about how sexy I thought her ass was, and she turned to let me grind against it. My hands pawed at her tits roughly while she circled her hips, expertly enough to make me wonder if she was giving lap dances for money on the side. My hands drifted down over her belly and down between her legs. I could feel how soaked her panties were, and she didn’t pause as I let my fingers slide under her panties and started fingering her clit.

She ground her ass even harder against me, to the point where I felt like I could nearly have cum in my jeans. I stroked faster, my fingers slick with her pussy juice, as she bucked harder, muttering nonsensically. Soon, though, as her orgasm overtook her, her words became a little louder and clearer. “Oh, fuck, yes, daddy,” she groaned. “Do me, daddy.” Her body tensed and she came, releasing a small squeal. She turned around and held me, and I ran my slick-fingered hand through her long black hair. “Fuck yes, daddy,” she groaned.

Everybody’s got a thing.


A few days later, mom had to leave town. Once a year she had to head out west to deal with legal issues relating to both her divorce from dad and her family estate. It was usually pro forma stuff—signing the paperwork that made sure she was free to receive the money that kept the roof over our heads and made sure she didn’t have to work—but this trip was more frustrating than usual, for obvious reasons. We’d just started getting comfortable with each other sexually, and now she had to disappear for a week.

We handled it in a way a married couple might. The night before we went out to dinner at one of the fancier restaurants in the city. I put a blazer over my white button-down shirt, open at the collar, and mom dressed in what half-jokingly called “business fuckable”: four-inch black heels, a pencil skirt molded to her hips, a tightly tailored robin’s egg blue blouse that hugged her tits. Lest she look too provocative bouncing down the street showing off her spectacular chest, she threw on a scarf. It didn’t exactly hide her stellar rack, but it signaled a passing respect for modesty in public.

We talked casually as we had dinner—about some sightseeing she wanted to do in San Francisco while she was there, about some job interviews I had planned over the next couple of months. Rubbing my leg with her foot under the table, she asked what sort of trouble I’d be getting into while she was away.

“Oh, you know, mom,” I said. “Smoke weed and jack off all day.”

She smirked. “Well, lucky you, mister graduate. But you know I gave the rest of that pot back to Lynn, right?”

“No. Why?”

Her foot disappeared. She sat up a little straighter. “Sugar, I don’t need it, not with you. It was fun to smoke with you, but now that we’re comfortable with each other….”

“You don’t need weed to get your pussy wet with me,” I said, softly.

“I don’t need weed to know I want your cock,” she said, softer.

Mom idly stroked my cock with her right hand as she drove us home after dinner. “You should do more than just hang around at home while I’m away,” she said. “Hang out with friends, see a movie, go on a date.”

“Would you be OK with me going on a date?” I asked. I thought about Katie, but she was spending the month in Europe with her family.

Stoplight. She looked at me, stroked me a little more slowly. “I don’t own you, sweetheart. I love you. I love you like a son, and I love you like a lover. But you’re young and you should enjoy a lot of things in life. I hope that I’m a woman that you can always come home to, and I hope I can be that woman for you. But you shouldn’t feel shy about living a little.”

My cock thickened at her words and her touch. As we moved again, I asked, “What about you, mom? Are you going to find somebody while you’re in San Francisco?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, a little dreamily. We pulled into the garage and mom unlatched her seatbelt and began hungrily sucking my cock.

“Would you mind if mommy sucked somebody else’s dick, baby boy?”

“No, mom.”

“If your mom let a big dick, almost as big as yours, in her pussy?”

“Only if you told me all about it later,” I groaned.

“What if I let another woman eat mommy’s pussy?” she asked. I could feel her adjust herself as she kept sucking my cock. She had moved a hand between her legs.

“Do you like having you a woman eat your pussy, mommy?”

“Mmmmmmmm, yes, yes, yes,” she said, and sucked me until I helplessly blasted my load in my mother’s mouth.


We shared the bed that night, mom letting me fuck her pussy, coming twice before I filled her with another load of cum. The next morning we hugged and made out a little before she left for the airport, promising to check in on each other. And then I was by myself.

I flipped channels, texted with a friend (“dude what wz w/u and teh fat chick?” “dont knock it til u tried it…”), looked at the websites of a couple of the companies I was going to interview with next month. (I studied business, and my father was in the chemical industry; he’d arranged some meetings with sales VPs at a few places, as a favor to my mom.) I checked my email and a new message appeared:

From: Lynn Smith

Subject: Coming Over?

Hi there! Congratulations, graduate! I’m so sorry I missed the festivities, but I’m sure you’re having a good time before the real world shows up at your door. :) We haven’t met, but your mom speaks so well of you. I know she’s out of town, but there’s something she left me that I need to pick up. Is it OK if I come by this afternoon?



I wrote her a quick note saying that’d be fine.

I couldn’t help but be nervous as I waited for her to arrive, though I really had no idea what to expect—or, really, if I should expect anything. She was a friend and former coworker of mom’s who liked to smoke weed, that’s all. Still, my past few weeks had been so hypersexed that I couldn’t help but wonder if she was attractive, especially with mom giving me the go-ahead to meet other women. Would she feel the same way if it was with a friend?

She was punctual in a manner unbefitting a pot-smoker: At exactly 2 p.m. the doorbell rang and I went downstairs to greet her. I’d dressed up, a little—a red polo shirt, khakis, and topsiders instead of my usually shorts, T-shirt, and flip-flops.

“Hi there!” Lynn said, cheerily, giving me a hug as she stepped into the house. Stepping back, she put her hands on my hips and openly looked me over. “My goodness, your mother wasn’t joking about how handsome you are!”

I put my hands on her hips and smiled back. “Thank you. Clearly my mother only consorts with gorgeous women.”

Too forward, you think? I had a good excuse. Her top was the same T-shirt with the word “Flirt” on it that mom had, clinging tightly over her very full tits—bigger than mom’s, clearly. She was wearing trainers and workout shorts—the kind that clung tight against her thighs, ass, and pussy mound. She had a great athletic figure, though more rounded than your average female athlete—and a little older, since she appeared to be my mother’s age. In any event, she was a walking turn-on, and her top suggested she didn’t mind flaunting it.

“You’re sweet,” she said. “Of course, I confess I paid a little more for my figure then your sexy mom did.” She took her hands off my hips and coquettishly hefted her tits. Fake.

“You look great. My mom has that same shirt.”

“I know! We each bought one last time we were out. I love shopping with your mom. We wind up getting a lot of the same things.”

Eager to play the good host, I offered her a seat on the couch and a glass of water. I asked her how she got to know my mom and she gave me a quick history lesson. They went to college together and became friends, running in the same circles and going to the same parties. They grew distant after graduating, but Lynn moved back to town about five years ago and began working in the same real-estate office. Like my mom, Lynn didn’t need the money, but it was a nice way to get out of the house and feel productive. She’d never married.

“I never wanted to feel too settled down, you know?” she said, as I handed her a glass and sat next to her on the couch.

“Are you dating anybody?”

“Well, why ever do you ask, sir?” she asked in a fake Southern belle accent. She dipped two fingers in the ice water and ran them along her neck, cooling herself. “Seriously, there’s a guy I see. But I think he’s only in it for the sex.”

“What are you in it for?”

She laughed. “The sex, I guess. He’s great at that, I admit. But I get bored easy if it’s just that. I wish there was somebody I was on the same wavelength with, do the same stuff and just have fun…”

“Sounds like you should be dating my mom.”

She gave me a look I couldn’t quite make sense of. The temperature seemed to change. “Yeesh, I almost forgot I came here to pick up something! That’s what I get for getting distracted by my best friend’s handsome son. She said to ask you to get it—it’s in a box by her nightstand.”

I told her to make herself at home while I got it and she theatrically flopped back on the couch, smiling as her tits jiggled.

Mom kept her bedroom—our bedroom—clean and the box was easy to spot. I couldn’t help but open the lid and look inside. It was a butt plug, the same kind my mom had, with a vibrator insert. Electric-blue silicone with a thick head. A small bottle of lube was nestled in the box as well. Clearly she and Lynn were talking about sex pretty intimately.

As I came back in the living room she sat up and straightened her shirt—a gesture of modesty, though in this case it only accentuated the size and shape of her massive, flirty, porn-star tits.

“Did you peek?” she asked.

“Of course.”

She actually blushed, a little. “What do you think? Do you and your mom talk about this stuff?”

“We talk about sex, yes. We talk about how if you’re not hurting anybody, you have every right to make yourself feel good.” I sat back on the couch and handed her the box.

“Do you want to know a secret?” she said.


“Promise not to tell your mom I told you this?”


“Pinky swear,” she said, holding up her left pinky. I hooked It with my right one, but we were quickly holding hands—the sexual tension in the room had just elevated.

“What’s the secret, Lynn?”

She looked at me holding her hand, then into my eyes. “I have such a huge crush on your mom.” She grabbed my hand tighter, almost pleadingly. “You’re OK with me telling you this, right?”

I nodded.

“I don’t know if I’m a lesbian or whatever. Don’t care if I am. When she told me that she likes butt plugs, I wanted to find out for myself. When she told me that she wanted to get high like I do sometimes I was so happy to do something for her. Though I was bummed when she decided to give it back to me, like she never even smoked it.”

“She did. We smoked it together.”

“Really? That’s so great. I’m so happy to hear that.” I wondered if she was going to ask for more details, but she didn’t. Instead she hugged me—not that there was any reason to, but I loved the feel of her against me. I rubbed her back, felt the back of her bra. As we broke our embrace on the couch, I decided to be more forward.

“And these?” I said, lightly cupping her tits. “Did you get these to be more like my mom?”

She looked at me, lust burning in her eyes, and nodded.

We kissed, deeply, my hands mauling her tits, then her hips and ass. I leaned back and let her climb on top of me on the couch. She thrust her crotch against mine as we made out for a long ecstatic minute. She sat up and pulled off her “Flirt” top while I yanked off my polo. Her bra wasn’t particularly sexy—no lace—but I loved the wide shoulder straps and their tacit assertion that a lot of titweight needed carrying on Lynn’s sexy body. As I unhooked her, her crotch ground deeper against mine.

Her bra slipped off and I hungrily sucked on her massive tits, running my hot tongue over her hard nipples. Lynn unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants, so eagerly she almost tore the button off.

“I want it in me,” she gasped.

“My cock, Lynn?”

“Fuck, yes, baby, your fucking cock. I want you to fuck me with your fucking cock. Deep fucking dick me, you fucking man. But I mean the butt plug. I need my ass filled good.”

We made our way to my mother’s bedroom—I knew Lynn would only be more excited at the prospect of fucking in the same room of the woman she was crushed out on. I pulled off my pants, then gently guided my mom’s big-titted best friend to lie down on the bed while I pulled off her workout shorts and panties. The shorts already had a wet spot that made it clear how turned on she was, and I could tell from the sight of her glistening shaved pussy, and the sweet humid smell of it, that she was more than ready.

I spread her legs and, kneeling at the foot of the bed, began eating her pussy, splitting the wet lips of her cunt with my tongue and working my way up to the swollen nub of her clit. Her hips circled while I ate her, smearing her juices around my face. I grabbed her firm ass cheeks and spread them.

I stopped and looked up at her. “Do you want to get that big toy in your tight ass now?” Her face was flushed. She nodded fervently. I kissed her—I couldn’t resist it, she was so turned on, so ready for whatever was coming next. I took out the butt plug and squeezed out a very healthy amount of lube on the tip, smearing it around.

She watched me do this as if in awe, deeply eager for the toy to go in her ass, where it belonged.

Without saying anything, she got on all fours, presenting her ass to me. Her asshole was beautifully pink and puckered. I slowly began pressing the toy into Lynn’s ass, feeling her resist at first as the head pushed more fully in her. But eventually her sphincter muscles relaxed and it was in. She let out a sigh of relief, even wiggled her ass a little.

I lay down on the bed, my prick sticking out obscenely, precum stickily oozing out. She straddled my chest, her pussy tantalizingly close to my mouth again.


“Yes, Lynn?”

“You eat my pussy so good. Can you eat it some more?”

“As much as you want.”

She moved up closer, grabbing the headboard of my mom’s bed, her fake rounded tits pressing against the wood. I gave her pussy a couple of teasing licks before sucking her pussy again in earnest.

“Baby, when I tell you, I need you to push that little button on the vibrator,” she groaned. “Will you do that?”

I moaned an assent, my mouth too busy sucking her cunt to say yes, and then she began rocking her hips in wide circles on my face. “Oh, fuck, yes, baby, I can’t believe I’m fucking you. So fucking good. Make my pussy feel good, baby boy.”

I thrust my tongue deep into her pussy, grabbed her ass harder.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” she groaned. “Do it. Push the fucking button.”

I did, and she began bouncing on my face with such fervor I was worried she’d bust my nose. In fierce wide thrusts she pumped her hips, not even caring anymore about my tongue doing anything to her pussy, just riding the feeling of the vibrating plug, radiating pleasure throughout her body. She tightened for a long moment, cumming.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHH. FUUUUUUUUCK,” she cried. “Still cummmmmmmmmmmmming,” she said. Then, quickly, crazily, she impaled herself on my cock, my dick slurped up quickly in her gushing pussy.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” she chanted. “Cummingcummingcummingcummingcumming.”

Her tits bouncing crazily, her tight pussy like a vacuum, I came inside the cunt of my mom’s best friend. It felt like a gallon of cum was shooting out of me—I was as out of control as she was. She didn’t protest my sudden eruption inside her. If anything she pressed herself even more firmly inside of her, eager to take in every drop of me, even though I could tell that a thick hot mess of cum and pussy juice was already leaking out of her, coating my pubic hair.

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