Uzyskaj dostęp do tej i ponad 60000 książek od 6,99 zł miesięcznie
Have you been having dirty thoughts about mommy? That's okay, baby. Mommy wants to make your dreams come true. In this collection of four erotic shorts, mothers and their sons engage in secret affairs of passion. In "Pay for Play," Molly offers her son a naughty reward if he can improve his grades. In "No Tell Motel," a storm persuades Anthony and his mother to take refuge in a motel. ~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~ From "Strangers in the Night": He could have turned around the very second he stepped inside. Despite the dive's dim interior and the abundance of patrons, Brad recognized her immediately. They had the same nose, the same tilted smile. Her eyes were hazel, unlike his deep brown, and she was petite, at least six inches shorter than him, but there was no mistaking the resemblance. He wasn't prepared for the attraction. Of the thousand scenarios he fantasized about in his two decades of sleeplessness, this was never one of them. He kept trying to snap himself out of it, to remind himself who Wendy was and what she'd done to him, but seeing his smile on her pink lips...watching her laugh and joke with the customers and the way her body moved...she burned in his vision like an ethereal creature. She was quick to joke and quicker to laugh but there was a roughness to her laugh and a bitterness on her tongue. That was why her hazel eyes were so luminous. To see kindness beaming from them, to see that kindness directed at him, compassion and something more, made his heart skip a beat. She wasn't beautiful but once he had been very pretty. She didn't move like an older woman. She strut when she walked, showing off her broad hips and plump round bottom. She was a small woman but her bust was full, and she kept her black polo shirt unbuttoned to show off her cleavage. There were freckles across her chest, brought to the fore by age and decades under the sun, and if she sagged more than the girls Brad's age, it didn't detract from her deliciousness. She swayed with appetizing liquidity. Her stomach wasn't tight but slightly round, good for grabbing. All of her, in fact, was grabbable. That was the thought that made Brad blush in his seat. Whenever she strut to and fro behind the bar, his palms itched to grab her. He wanted to feel the warm softness of her flesh, and for that he was ashamed. He had to look at her because he'd waited his whole life to look at her, but this wasn't what he intended. He averted his eyes from her swaying hips. Her auburn hair retained an ember of its former luster, and his desire to pass his fingers through it was just barely held in check. He thought he might go mad. "Get ahold of yourself," he muttered under his breath. She'd smiled at him so seductively, and called him baby, and he wanted to pour his heart out to her, and his body and his mind were at odds. He'd always been attracted to older women; he couldn't help it. Girls his own age weren't as mature, weren't as loving, didn't understand the dark road he'd been on. They were fragile, unlike Wendy, whose strength blazed through her kind, hazel eyes. She'd seen bad days, he could tell, and she knew they shared a connection. That was obvious from the way she kept sneaking glances at him from the other end of the bar.
Ebooka przeczytasz w aplikacjach Legimi na:
Liczba stron: 133
Odsłuch ebooka (TTS) dostepny w abonamencie „ebooki+audiobooki bez limitu” w aplikacjach Legimi na:
© Copyright 2018, Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved
NOTICE: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer: This story contains explicit content, including graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse and consensual incest. It is intended for adults only. All characters depicted are 18-years-old and older. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Veronica Sloan. Cover photo © MrKornFlakes, © Volodymyr Tverdokhlib.
* * *
Molly's son is a nice boy, but he's never been an attentive student. Ryan has so much potential that it breaks her heart to see it go to waste. Her friend Rita used to have the same problem with her son, but somehow she convinced him to change his lazy ways. She tells Molly there's only one reward powerful enough to sway a stubborn young man: Sex. Molly is shocked by this revelation, but she's willing to try anything to save her son's future...
© Copyright 2018, Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved
* * *
For Molly, the morning passed in a blur of unremembered chores...waking her husband and laying out his suit and cufflinks...setting the kettle to boil and then grinding the coffee...pouring him a cup for when he finally made it downstairs. Accustomed to this daily ritual, Molly performed it on auto-pilot. She floated from task to task in reverie, her mind preoccupied with a dark secret that dribbled into her panties like the hot drips of the percolator. It was only Michael's question, murmured between sips of coffee, that pulled her back to Earth: "Where's that lazy boy of ours?"
Her heart nearly stopped. For years that had been part of the ritual: waking Ryan...and then waking Ryan again...and again...till he at last crawled out of bed and slouched his way to school. Not this morning. This morning Ryan was awake and gone before either of them.
"I don't know," Molly said quietly. "I hope he's on campus. He's been...trying to be more responsible."
Her husband frowned as he considered that. "Come to think of it, I've hardly seen him at all these past few weeks. But I haven't got any calls either. Maybe the boy's finally taking it seriously."
"He is," Molly answered, her tone cautious.
"Has he said anything to you?"
"No," she lied. Ryan had said many things to her the night before, and many nights before that. Ryan whispered things to his mother that she prayed his father would never know.
Michael stroked her cheek and gave her a quick kiss. "Maybe you should get some more sleep, hon. You've been a little spacey, you know?"
She knew, though her dreamy stupor was not for lack of sleep. On the contrary, she'd slept like a stone. Despite Michael's snores...despite the heat that radiated from her trembling body and the perspiration that trickled from her every pore...despite her aching muscles and her guilty conscience...she'd never slept so well. It was because of that delicious sleep, because of the crackling stains on her inner thighs, that her mind was elsewhere when Michael joined her in the kitchen. All he had to do was open her robe to see the evidence of her adultery, the matted hair of her vagina and the ghostly residue of her cream.
Part of her hoped he would, just so her awful guilt would be assuaged. Another part of her just wanted him to leave so that she could strip off her robe and wash the evidence away...to comb the dried tangles from her pubic hair...to run her fingers through her pulsing lips...to remember the greedy fondling of her son...and to cum again...to fuck herself while her boy's semen was still swimming in her uterus.
In the kitchen, Molly's eyelids fluttered and her husband thought she would faint. "Honey, what's wrong?" he asked.
"It's nothing," she said sharply. She winced, for she did not intend to sound so cold. She loved Michael and had for twenty years...but he had not touched her like that, loved her like that, in what felt like twice that time. "You're right," she sighed. "I just need some more rest. Get to work and I'll go back to bed."
He patted her shoulder on his way out the door. "My spoiled little housewife needs her beauty sleep. You still making spaghetti tonight?"
"Yes," she said, her mind already wandering. How long would it be till Ryan was finished with school?
"And your famous meatballs?" he called from the garage.
"Uh-huh," she murmured, as she loosed the belt of her robe. When Michael's car puttered out of the garage, she mounted the stairs naked--not caring if the neighbors could see her through the glass pane of the front door. Her large ass swayed and flexed as she ascended the steps, her womanhood moistening for the attention it was about to receive. Like a drunk, Molly teetered on her toes, unsteady and still burning.
It was no use denying the craving. She had begun this sinful tryst for Ryan's benefit, but it was so much bigger than that now. Her waking thoughts were consumed by his young cock, his sharp teeth, his powerful kisses. Everything else--her daily rituals, her chores, her errands, her friends, even her husband--was background noise. Michael was completely oblivious. He wanted coffee in the morning and spaghetti at night. He wanted to sleep at nine o'clock and a quick kiss in the doorway. His wife's dark secret was beyond the scope of his simple, pleasant life. That she screamed his son's name as she fucked herself in their shower would be incomprehensible to him.
Molly knew it was wrong, knew her lust was obscene, but she also knew that her fingers were a poor substitute for her son's hard, teenage cock. He was 18-years-old and still a virgin when she made her indecent proposal. He was no longer a virgin and no longer a timid lover. Now he took her when he wanted her...and she was forced to submit. That was the deal. She pretended to reluctance, told him not to overstep, but the act was slipping and they both knew it.
She could not fault the boy. He only wanted what any young man wanted: pussy on demand. She'd granted that salacious wish and willingly become his personal whore. As she rolled her wet bangs into the bathroom tile and squirmed on her own fingers, the word blazed in her mind over and over again: Whore! Whore! Whore! It was her fault. She'd done this to herself.
But if she wanted to play the blame game, perhaps it was Rita's fault. Molly would never have gone down on her son, taken his virginity, let him bend her over his bed and fuck her like a dog...if Rita hadn't given her the idea.
Rita's son, Kevin, was a bit of a problem child. He had been since his father left. When he was younger, it was getting into fights with other children; when he was older, it was everything from speeding to dealing drugs. Then something changed. People in town thought he'd found religion. He was kind instead of violent, patient instead of mean, thoughtful instead of crass.
Even Molly found it hard to believe he was the same Kevin Gordon who'd shattered her mailbox with a sledgehammer. At the time, Rita told Molly she just found a good counselor. Years later, with Kevin out of the house and pursuing a promising career in criminal law, Molly hoped that Ryan could benefit from the same counselor. They were having coffee at the cute place by the park when Molly first brought it up.
"Obviously he's not as bad as Kevin was," she said over her steaming mug. "Oh! Not that, um, Kevin was...was a bad boy."
Rita's laugh was short and loud. "He was a bad boy. He was a menace!"
Rita patted Molly's hand reassuringly. "Ryan is a sweet boy, Molly. Lazy, I think, but nothing like Kevin was."
Molly loosed an exasperated sigh. "But that's just the point! He's so smart but he doesn't apply himself at all. I don't want him to fail before he's even begun to live. If I can get the number of that counselor you used, I think it might help. The change in Kevin was so drastic. Whatever that counselor said, it made an impression!"
Rita gazed at her friend for a long time before she answered. "Do you really think Ryan's in trouble?"
"The school has called so many times. When he applies himself, they're amazed by what he comes up with. But he just can't seem to focus."
"And it's not something medication might fix?"
"No, the doctor's said he doesn't have ADD or anything like that. He's too smart for the room. School bores him, so he just floats away..."
"Does he have a girlfriend?" Rita asked.
"You know he doesn't," Molly sighed. "He's painfully shy."
"That's it, then."
"You know how young men are," Rita said. "Even you, Molly, know how young men are."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Molly snapped.
Rita took a languid sip of her coffee. "It means, sweetie, that you're a bit of a Puritan."
"I am not," she choked. "Just because I don't discuss me and Michael's sex life, that doesn't mean I'm a nun!"
"So you have one? A sex life?"
"It's fine," Molly muttered, hiding her flushed cheeks behind her coffee mug.
"Could be better, though?" Rita needled.
"I don't see what this has to do with anything," Molly said.
"What's the one thing all young men want that they can never get enough of?"
"I don't know," Molly sighed. "Hamburgers?"
"Oh, honey!" Rita laughed. "You know what? Forget I said anything. I'm sure Ryan will be fine."
"No!" Molly moaned. "No, Rita, please. I didn't come here to talk about sex. I just want to know who the counselor is."
"It's me," Rita said.
Molly goggled at her for a breathless moment. "You...?"
"There wasn't a counselor. I lied to you. It's just me."
"Just you?" Molly repeated. "But...but what did you do?"
"I gave Kevin what he needed. I said the things he needed to hear. I did the things he needed me to do."
Molly frowned in puzzlement. "I'm sorry, I...don't understand."
Rita gazed at Molly levelly. "You sure?"
Molly's hand leapt to her lips. "...you're not serious."
Rita was shameless. She took another sip of her coffee and then set it carefully before her on the table. "The one thing every young man wants...what every man wants, really...is sex. Not knowing when they're going to have it causes a lot of tension. Thinking about it, dwelling on it, obsessing over it, can cause serious emotional and psychological damage."
"Isn't that what girlfriends are for?" Molly asked.
"Sometimes," Rita said. "But think about that. They don't know what to say to girls. And when they do go out, they have to make sure they do everything right. And even then, the girl might not be ready. Just because the man wants to fuck doesn't mean he's going to. And the more he wants to, the less likely he'll be to get lucky."
Molly thought of her own embarrassing experiences in high school, the awkwardness and the disappointment. "But that's how it works," she said. "You learn how to date and...the reward, I guess, is...is that."
"Sex," Rita said. "That's what the whole game is about."
Molly shrugged. "Well, my Ryan doesn't play."
"Kevin didn't either. A lot of his frustration came from not knowing anything about women--and desperately wanting to know everything."
"So you...you taught him how to date?" Molly asked.
Rita grinned. "No, honey. I fucked him."
Molly knocked over her coffee in shock. If Rita hadn't pulled her out of the way her thighs would be scalded by the brown river that spilled through the mesh in the table. "You're--you're joking!" she gasped.
Rita locked eyes with her best friend. "Honey?"
Molly saw it then, the utter sincerity. The carnal truth. "How could you?" she whispered. "How could you even think of such a--"
"Actually..." Rita said, her lips curling in a devilish pout, "it wasn't that difficult."
"He's your son!"
"And he was a very angry, very lost young man. When he was little I could scoop him up and hug him when things got bad, but when he got older I had to find another way to comfort him. An adult way to comfort him."
"No," Molly said, her body shaking, her heart pounding. "No, that's wrong..."
"It's the most natural thing in the world," Rita contended. "And to be honest, Molly, I quite enjoyed it."
Molly's eyes bugged in her small, pale face. "Rita!"
"He was a horny 18-year-old, honey. I hadn't fucked a teenager since I was one. And let me tell you," she said, bending close to Molly's ear, "my Kevin didn't always last, but he was always ready to try again. When was the last time Michael fucked you four times in a row?"
Molly slapped her hands over her ears. "No! I won't hear it!"
"And before he even let me get out of bed!" Rita laughed.
Molly had known Rita most of her adult life and she'd never lied to her before, but how could she accept what she was saying? Not only did the woman claim to fuck her son, not only did she say she enjoyed it, but she considered it the rational thing to do! When it was clear that Molly was finished with this conversation, Rita sighed and stood up. She laid down a few bills for their coffees and then snapped her purse shut. "I'm willing to talk, if you're willing to be a grownup about it," she said, and slung her purse over her shoulder. "I understand it's not the 'done' thing, but it worked for me. Everyone knows it worked. Kevin's happy now, he's doing well, he has a beautiful wife who, I'm certain, is quite satisfied in the bedroom." Molly made a face and Rita rolled her eyes. "Just think about it, honey. Men are easy to figure out. They're so hard up for it all the time. Instead of making Ryan pass through the gauntlet of hormones alone, why not help him through it? You're the one woman on this planet he knows he can trust. And if it really bothers you, you can tell yourself that it's just sex. You've been married for a while. I remember how it is."
That wasn't the rudest thing that Rita had said to her, but it stuck in Molly's mind. Yes, sex with Michael had grown stale in the last few years, but that was fine, she told herself. It happened in most marriages--every marriage, as far as she could tell. She wasn't a teenager anymore, or even in her mid-twenties, and sex was not a major concern.
Was it for Ryan? She wondered that on the long drive home. Could Rita's solution really be so simple? Could she improve her son's attitude, his behavior, by simply offering him the free use of her body?
When she was willing to give it serious thought, Molly tried applying that logic to her previous relationships. She had never had sex with someone she wasn't dating, someone she wasn't in love with. She loved Ryan, yes, but as his mother. And neither she nor her son had ever expressed interest in the other, sexually. How could they? They weren't animals. Ryan wasn't just looking for some warm hole to plug. Even if Molly was the slightest bit inclined to try Rita's insane "counseling," Ryan would never agree to let his own mother seduce him.
Tysiące ebooków i audiobooków
Ich liczba ciągle rośnie, a Ty masz gwarancję niezmiennej ceny.
Napisali o nas:
Nowy sposób na e-księgarnię
Czytelnicy nie wierzą
Legimi idzie na całość
Projekt Legimi wielkim wydarzeniem
Spotify for ebooks