“For this whole week, mom, I want you to call me “Lover.”
“Deal. But on the condition that when we get back to Maine I belong to your father and you go back to Allison.”
“Understood. But do you think it’ll be easy cutting each other off cold turkey?”
“Oh, we can still have discreet romantic rendezvouses. We just won’t belong to each other.”
“I like the way you think, mom.”
“Jesse, would you mind just lying in bed and cuddling with me a while?”
“Sure mom”
He opened his arms and she snuggled up into his warm embrace. Mom and son lay naked together. Face to face and he saw a tear well up in her eye.
“What is it, mom?”
“The truth is, Jesse, just as your father hasn’t been there for you, he hasn’t been there for me either. I have emotional needs too.” A tear trickled down her cheek and he wiped it away.
It tore him up to see his mom cry. But it wasn’t an incapacitating hurt like he’d felt over Allison. This hurt made him want to comfort his mom.
“Would you like to tell me about it, mom?” He kissed her cheek and caressed her soft back.
“I have been so lonely. His absence, always being away at all his marvelous construction projects is why I’m so active in my church groups and Friends of the Library and Citizens for a Better Portland. All those groups just served to filled a void. The truth is, if you hadn’t come home I was going to leave him.”
“Would you really do that?”
“I don’t want to. But I need someone who is there for me.”
“You have to tell him that.”
“But how do I get him to listen?”
“Make him jealous. Tell him that while you were here you met some wonderfully irresistible man who swept you off your feet,”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” pressing her mouth to his. They kissed long and passionately. “You, know for your plan to work we’ve got to make it real.”
She rolled on top of him, straddling his hips. He was hard. “That thing never goes soft, does it,” she chuckled.
“Not while I’m with you, lover.”
“I like that,” reaching back and taking his cock in her hand, she lowered her pussy over him. She herself was totally turned on, dripping wet, as she slid onto him all the way. His face was the picture of joy as he found himself inside his mom. “Ohhh, you’re just the perfect size,” thrusting rhythmically and falling forward unto him, smothering his face with kisses. She herself hadn’t felt this much physical pleasure in a long time. Her legs quivered as she continued to ride him hard.
“Oh, God, Mom I’m going to come.”
“Me too, ahhh, fuck yeah, come on, baby, fill my pussy.”
“Yeah, fuck yeah.”
As his love juice shot inside her, her muscles spasmed, grinding and bucking her hips against him like some crazed beast. She rode wave after wave of ecstasy until panting and drenched in sweat they collapsed into each other smiling and gazing into each others eyes like newly born creatures.
“My little stud muffin, that’s what you are,” kissing him. “That was the greatest sex I’ve ever had.”
“I’m not done. I can go all night.”
“I never knew I had such a horny devil for a son. If we’re going to make love all night we’ll need the energy. What do you say we shower and then go check out that romantic seaside restaurant. We can gorge ourselves on wine and French cuisine and talk and then come back up for round two.”
“Mmm, I love you, Mom. This is how life should be - fuck, eat, sleep, repeat.”
“Oh, you naughty brat,” she teased, snapping her towel at his bare ass as they headed into the shower.
Thank you for reading my dirty fantasy. Here are more filthy good reads:
Hot Asian Mom
Midori Kawasaki was a loving mom who loved the feel of soft young flesh. She and her son, Kenji, lived in a small wooden house in a quiet residential district of Yokohama not far from the university. Having no other family, he was the sole focus of her life, dedicating all her time to making sure he had all he needed for a happy and prosperous future. The truth was she was a very lonely woman.
Midori used sex to help alleviate the pain of her loneliness. Age forty-two, she was a widow. Her husband, Shunryu, had perished in the great tidal wave of 2012. She had not taken a lover since then. Her time was taken up working a day job in a lunch box factory to provide for Kenji’s support. So she got what satisfaction she could from her favorite vibrator, a ten inch dildo she nicknamed “Big Boy.”
Unlike her coworkers who would enjoy a drink or two after work, Midori would pedal home on her bike and, with Kenji still on campus studying, she would relax in her room and pleasure herself.
Today was slightly different. Kenji and his girlfriend, Yuka, had gone to Haneda Airport to pick up an American student who would be living with them.
Midori got home around three and wasted no time. On the way, she had stopped at the market and picked up some fresh salmon to go with the rice that was cooking in the rice cooker. After refrigerating the fish she headed straight for her bedroom.
She slipped out of her work clothes, a tan jumpsuit, neatly folded it and set it in a hamper. She unfastened her bra, shrugged it off, stepped out of her beige panties and laid those in the hamper on top of the jumpsuit. A full length mirror hung on the back of her door. It reflected a firm well proportioned middle-aged body. Her active lifestyle and healthy diet had kept the cellulite away. She took a tube of lavender scented lotion, squeezed some into her palms, and worked them over her body starting down at her slender ankles. Her hips were voluptuous but not yet what some would call curvy. Her tummy had a little bit of a motherly roll to it but just enough to be alluring. Her large breasts had maintained their firmness and had not yet given into the pull of gravity.
Midori had been raised in a small village north of Tokyo. After high school she had incurred the wrath of her father by running away to the big city and answering an add for dancers. Little did she know at the time that it involved dancing naked in front of a room full of drunken businessmen. But she got used to it. Came to enjoy it for a couple years. It’s where she met Shunryu. She retired. They married and bought the house in Yokohama. Even after all those years, she still got pleasure in seeing herself naked. Her favorite bar music played through her head as she swayed her hips to the rhythm, caressing her breasts, tweaking her hard nipples.
She slowly swayed over to the closet and took out a lacquered mahogany box, opened it and wrapped her fist around Big Boy. He was veiny with a huge head. A few months ago Midori had by chance seen her son naked at the public bath. Big Boy was much bigger - what she imagined an American cock to be like. She sunk down onto her futon and fell onto her back. She licked Big Boy’s long shaft, lubing him with her saliva and pleasuring in the sensual delight of his rough contours and ridges. She took him full into her mouth, deep throating him till he tickled her tonsils. Then she teased her flesh by dragging his head all along her body. Down between her breasts. Down along her tummy. Down into her fury black bush. She spread her legs wide so that clockwise they were at ten past ten. She was wet. Big Boy patted her clit till her large pussy lips opened like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.
PEG!
“These are hard times,” candidate Johnson Blunt (code-name Iron Balls) shouts out at the crowd of rabid supporters. “We gotta take the world by the balls! This country’s gotta get back to being the tough bastard she once was! She’s gotta get back her respect! As your leader I’ll put her back on top!”
Deafening applause.
BLUNT! BLUNT! BLUNT!
That arrogant shit’s in need of a good ramming. You’re mine big boy. I’m gonna stick it to the most powerful man on earth. That’s why I took this job. I’m gonna fuck Johnson Tiberius Blunt. The most powerful man in the world. Bank on it. Ms. Peg Masters is gonna ride you, Mr. Blunt. Gonna ride you like the great national w
et dream. As a member of your personal security squad, it’s my duty to protect your ass at all times, Mr. Blunt. I’m gonna be on your ass so tight you’re gonna nominate me as your ramming mate.
We’re at a rally somewhere in the Midwest. I don’t know which state. We’re just moving too fast. We’re at some outdoor arena. Could be a state fair show ground. Some kind of livestock arena. But it looks like ten thousand people standing out there. Crowding the stage. That’s where I am. No more than five feet behind Blunt. He’s walking the stage. Cordless mic in hand. Working the crowd. The entire security team is on a heightened sense of alert because of the recent terrorist strike in Brussels.
“This nation needs to get Blunt!” He shouts.
Mad applause.
“What do you think of Connie Chilton’s stance on terrorism?” Someone from the crowd shouts, referring to Blunt’s Democrat opponent.
“I’m sure Connie can make a mean apple pie. But, I’m sorry, she just doesn’t have the balls to keep this country safe.”
Mad applause.
What a fricking dink. I’m really going to stick it to him.
DOWN WITH BLUNT!
A loud anti-Blunt demonstration is raging outside the show grounds fence.
DUMP BLUNT! PUNT BLUNT!
As a member of Iron Balls’ personal security team I’m alert to every movement he makes. My peripheral vision takes in the slightest motion from anything within spitting range.
I haven’t laid my girlfriend, Lizzi, in a couple weeks. That’s how long we’ve been on the road. The intensity of all this campaigning’s really got me horny. Horny intense.
Bet you’re wondering how a woman gets to work security for a top political candidate. Connections. Dad was Secret Service. Growing up, he taught me all the tricks of personal security. Stealth shadowing. Total vigilance. Complete awareness of your environment. Subduing combatants. We used to play bodyguard at rock concerts when I was in high school. I’d protect him. We’d be in the crowd. I’d see someone accidentally make a sudden move toward dad. Poor shit who made the move would suddenly find himself on the hardwood gym floor sporting a sprained ankle.
Getting back to Iron Balls, he’s got four people on his personal security detachment. There was one opening left when I applied and I had to fight for it. Me and this guy interviewed for it together. We’re both in the campaign manager’s office. Standing side by side in front of his desk.
“Ms. Masters,” the manager asks me. “How bad do you want this job? What makes you qualified to protect the future leader of the free world?”
Without saying a word, I swiftly stretch my right arm out behind my competition, grab his collar, and slam his face down on the manager’s desk. Poor guy crumples to the floor holding his face, groaning.
“When can you start?” the manager says, staring wide eyed.
See, to maintain my competitive edge, I belong to an all girls erotic wrestling league. Three rounds per match. First two rounds we get down and dirty flopping around on the mat like landed fish. Points are awarded for displayed acts of domination. Stripping off the other girl’s bikini. Titty groping. Nipple biting. Pussy whipping. Winner gets to free-for-all fuck the opponent in the final round. This all happens in front of a crowd of some fifty drooling perverts. I’m reigning champ. It pays the bills.
I pump iron. Teach Tae Kwon Do. Fitness train for Iron Woman competition.
But that’s all been put on hold till after the campaign.
Right now, Iron Balls owns my ass 24/7.
Like I said, I haven’t lain with my girl, Lizzi, in weeks. We do phone sex. Right now I’m so fucking horny.
SHIT!
A glint of gray gun metal flashes in my peripheral vision.
Blunt is directly in front of me working up the crowd.
Pure muscle reflex has me leaping at Iron Balls. He’s not much bigger than me. He’s five-ten. One-sixty. I’m five-seven. One-fifty. I slam the full force of my weight into his back. Entwine my left foot around his left calf. He falls face down on the stage. My steel-cable thighs straddle his legs.
Three gunshots ring through the air in rapid succession.
Screams.
Pandemonium.
People running.
Iron Balls is stretched out prone. Wind knocked out of him. I’m sprawled out on his back. Putting my body between him and the gunman. Just like I’ve been trained. I double arm-bar him to keep him from trying to get up before it’s safe. He struggles. I grind my pelvis into his buttocks. I control him.
The first time I saw my stepbrother pee it was by accident. It was at grandpa and grandma’s cottage on Pleasant Lake, at the family reunion last June. A ton of relatives were there so, I guess the bathroom was kind of busy. I was helping out in the kitchen - cleaning off the plates just after a huge lunch, scraping the scraps into the trash can. After I finished, the can was darn near spilling over. So, I decided to run the bag out to the garbage cans way out back behind the garage.
The back yard was big and some of my relatives had a game of touch football going. The garage sat way beyond where they played - along the remote dirt road that winds past the property. Turning the corner of the garage, walking behind it, out of view from everyone, I was about to drop the bag into one of the cans when I stopped… and slowly and quietly set the bag on the ground. I had heard a sound like that of rushing water coming from around the next corner. Was it a garden hose or something?
The side of the garage from which the sound came was concealed from the back yard by shrubs and brush. Was someone back there? I walked closer but then stopped when I saw the arc of a golden stream of pee. I calmed my breathing so as not to give myself away. Only the pee was visible to me at that point. I had to see who it was. I crept silently along the side of the garage - inching closer to the corner. Who ever it was, his penis came into view. It was long and thick and gorgeous. Pee was shooting out of its wide head with great force. He must have been holding it for hours.
My pussy, for some unexplainable reason, started tingling. I reached down and pressed my fingers into my crotch. It started getting warm down there. I had to take a chance at being discovered. I had to know who this mystery peeing man was. With my head at the very corner, I silently inched out one eye. OMG, it was Carl, my stepbrother. He did not see me because of his intense concentration on his peeing. Seeing that only heightened my excitement. His cock was poking through the zipper of his jeans. He held it loosely in his right hand.
A strange desire came over me? What would it be like to taste Carl’s pee? I imagined myself kneeling before him as he peed into my open mouth. The thought made me blush and feel warm all over. My panties started getting wet.
Carl finally finished, put his cock back into his jeans, zipped up, turned and rejoined the football game. He never knew I’d seen him.
I returned to the house - fielding questions from my cousins about what took me so long. “Got roped into a game,” I lied.
That was three months ago. I’m back at college, now. I’ve fantasized about the incident almost every day. I can’t explain how my new pee fetish developed. I just like to lie in bed late at night, get out my vibrator and fantasize about Carl and his big beautiful cock peeing all over me.
Carl and I go to the same college. He’s a senior and I’m a sophomore. We both live at home to save money. No matter how much I’ve desired it, though, I haven’t been able to see him pee since that day at the family reunion.
It’s the first day of class of the fall semester and I’m in the bathroom applying my face.
Knock on the bathroom door, it’s Carl, “Heather, will you be long? I have to go really bad.”
Can’t believe my luck. This is the golden opportunity I’ve been waiting for. Have to play this right, though. Don’t want him to think I’m some kind of freak.
“Come in, Carl. I’m almost done,” leaning over the sink, applying mascara. Through the mirror I see him rush in behind me. He’s got on a t-shirt and athletic short
s. Hair is a mess - evidently, just got up.
“Sorry, sis. Look the other way,it’s an emergency,” lifting the toilet seat, he pulls down the front of his shorts and that gorgeous cock, hard from needing to pee all night, pops out. I’m watching at an angle through the mirror while pretending to apply makeup.
He is so hard he has to manually force his cock down so that his pee won’t miss the toilet. He lets go and the sound is like Niagara Falls. I am so turned on. The air is hot and sticky from my recent shower. The odor of his pee fills the room - salty and bitter. I’m standing in my bathrobe - nothing underneath. I want to rub my pussy in the worst way. But I don’t want to give myself away to Carl. Like back at the family reunion, he’s concentrating heavily on his pee. Continuing to watch through the mirror, I press my mound up against the edge of the sink and subtly rub my aching clit into it. He has so much pee inside he seems to go on forever. I take a chance and slip my left hand down inside my robe and work my fingers into my pussy. He is so hot. His cock is way bigger than when I saw it before. So fucking gorgeous. Again, I imagine him pissing all over me and into my mouth. I’m going to cum. My hips are squirming. A tiny moan escapes my lips. My mascara pencil slits. My legs are quivering. Don’t know if my jelly knees will hold me.
“Ohhh, god,” shit, Carl heard that.
P CLUB
God, I love Carl’s ride. The way it growls and rumbles and you feel its motor humming all through your body.
We pull up outside Humbert Hall just in time for my English Lit class. My best friend, Janine, is waiting there on the curb. She sees us and waves.
“See you tonight, Carl,” I get out, slamming the door.
“Have a good day, sis. Hey, Janine. Looking good,” smiling and waving before zooming off to his class.
“Hi, Carl,” she smiles back with dreamy eyes.
“Look at you, melting all over my stepbrother.”
“You are so lucky, Heather, living in the same house with that hunk.”
Stepmom Vacation (Loving Moms Book 1) Page 2
