Meaty Young Cock & Matured Cunt 1
This is a straight-up, classic, big-boobed Mom and studly son having hot, sweaty, naked sex type of story. If stuff like that isn’t your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn’t bother reading it. I do not condone any of these actions in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.
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So, yeah, two days ago, me and my mom had sex.
To be honest, I’m still processing it. It kinda happened out of nowhere. It was just one of those sticky summer days, all things normal, then… Bam! It happened. Sex happened.
Now, it wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t making love or any of that bullshit. No soft music, no roses or candles. None of that stuff. No, me and Mom just FUCKED! I swear, it was like one minute, things were normal between us, just a regular mom and son. And then the next minute, the clothes were coming off, and we were just going at it. And trust me, me and her went at it. Hard! Physical, lusty, nasty fucking! Naked, thick, meaty young cock buried in tight, dripping, mature cunt. A mom’s tongue in her son’s mouth. A mom’s plump lips wrapped tightly around her son’s thick shaft as she took it eagerly down her throat. A son’s big hands squeezing his mom’s absolutely enormous breasts. God, they were fucking big, and I got to feel every inch of their smooth, naked skin. A mother and her son, two naked bodies, dripping with sweat, their heated skin sliding against each other as they savagely fucked. And it was fucking rough. It had screaming, moaning, and every fucking curse word in the book. It ended with a son’s large nuts coated with his own mother’s sex juices, and a mother’s tight, wet cunt filled to the brim with her son’s thick cum. It was the greatest sexual experience of both of their lives.
But that was two days ago.
Most of the time, this is the point where the story ends. The sex had happened, the climax of the story. But the question for us was… what comes next? What comes after a mother and a son have sex? What do you do after that? Can you back to normal? Did we want to?
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I suppose I should go back a few days and tell you what happened.
It was a lazy Saturday in the middle of summer. It was one of those sticky days where being outside for any extended time was just unbearable. Which was why I was doing my best to savor the air conditioning. I had hung out with some buddies earlier in the day, shooting some hoops before the heat became too unbearable. After that, we went and saw a movie. And now I was chilling in my house, sitting back in my room, playing a football game online on my PS4, kicking ass, naturally. The typical things a freshly graduated high school male would do. If it was up to me, these were the types of things I would happily do all summer until I left for college, but my folks wouldn’t let me be that lazy. I worked a lifeguarding job at the beach, and while that was fun, and seeing hot girls in bikinis was certainly a perk, I was happy to savor a few days off to relax and do nothing.
But my dad had other plans.
He was one of the partners at a big law firm, so he was typically very busy. That being said, he gave us a good life, so I wasn’t complaining. But anyway, his boss, the big boss at his company, was throwing a big cookout thing at his lakeside house. It was this whole big thing and the families of the staff were encouraged to come and enjoy themselves. Dad was all about work and all about showing off his good life, his beautiful wife and handsome son, so we were all meant to attend. We attended every year, and while there was some fun stuff, I always found it really fucking boring. They would always ship me off to hang with a bunch of goobers, the kids of the other employees, and they just weren’t my flavor. Not the type of people I liked hanging out with. So, I always ended up dreading this thing, and I always dragged my feet. Like today, I was in my room, wearing the same jeans I’d been wearing for a week, in a thin, blue t-shirt with my favorite football team’s logo on the front, sitting back, barefoot, playing video games.
I wasn’t alone in my dislike of this event. I could tell Mom was pretty uninterested in the whole thing too, that she would rather be doing literally anything else. But she was a good corporate wife, and she would always be all smiles by the time we made it there.
Dad, as one of the partners, had been gone most of the day, helping set things up. Me and Mom were scheduled to drive over and meet up with him in a bit, but like I said, I was dragging my feet. And, like a good mom, she was poised to remind me of this fact.
“Hey!” I heard Mom call out from down the hall, approaching my room. “You need to start getting cleaned up. We need to get going pretty soon!”
“Yeah!” I called out, not even looking at her, barely acknowledging her. I could feel her presence standing in my doorway. Finally, annoyed with my classic teenage disregard for parental authority, she stepped into my room, standing in-between me and my flat screen, forcing me to pause the action.
“Yes?” I asked with a shit-eating grin. I looked up and met Mom’s annoyed gaze. I suppose this would be the best time to describe her, seeing that this was the woman I was about to fuck.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.
Her name was Kim, and, uh, she was my mom. Dad made enough money as to where she didn’t have to work, but she always kept herself busy with different things. But none of that really mattered for this story, so I’ll get to the good stuff.
I’ll be honest… Mom was fucking hot. Like, legitimately hot and sexy. She was a brunette, with long, lustrous hair, cascading down between her shoulder blades in a perpetually tussled look that always really worked for her. She had a good, rich, even tan. She had shining, playful eyes, and full, plump lips. She was fucking gorgeous.
And then her body… man, her body. She was very physically active, so she kept herself very fit, with a flat belly, and long taut legs. Her hard work was really showed off by her amazing ass. It was firm, full, round and juicy, and it rode high and perky on her frame like a teenager’s. It was fucking mouth-watering. Sometimes, even I had trouble not staring.
And then there were her breasts…
Man, just… man, describing them in words doesn’t do them enough justice. They were just… huge. Fucking huge. My mom had enormous tits, full, round, smooth, and just perfectly shaped. They were also shockingly perky and rode high on her chest, jutting out from her slim frame proudly. Mom was no doubt the envy of all the corporate wives, and I’m sure there were some who doubted that her boobs were real. Trust me, I had known her pretty much my whole life. Those suckers were real, and absolutely massive.
So, from top to bottom, Mom was a fucking smoke-show. A brick shithouse. Absolutely gorgeous, and with a body to match. As her son, it was a hard thing to ignore, which is probably why I can describe her body in such great detail. And while I used to feel a lot of guilt and confusion for noticing these things, I eventually made my peace with it. My mom was hot, and that just couldn’t be denied. My buddies would never let me forget that my mom was so sexy, so I wouldn’t be able to get very far in life without accepting that fact.
Had I jacked off to her a few times? Sure. I tried not to get too carried away with thoughts like that, but every so often, thoughts of her just did it for me. Sometimes, there were certain days, or she’d be in certain clothes, but for whatever the reason, she’d have me as stiff as a brick all day long. I’d thought about, you know… sex with her, fantasized about it, but I had never really planned to actually do anything about it. I wasn’t that crazy. I wasn’t actually gonna go through with it. And it wasn’t like it was entirely up to me. I’m sure she would have a few objections if I brought it up with her. And besides, I did pretty well for myself. As a good looking football player with a sizable dong, I was well taken care of in every way I needed. That said, the thought of seeing that body in action was indescribably hot, and at times, as a natural flirt, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from running some game on Mom. Her body was so lust inspiring, and any other girl that inspired those feelings would get the full court press from me. But I controlled myself enough not to do that with Mom, despite how hot she was.
“Kyle!” Mom called out, shaking me from my reverie. “You need to get cleaned up!” Mom said impatiently, her hands on her hips. “We need to get going pretty soon.”
“But… it’s hot,” I whined exaggeratedly, looking out the window, my tone causing her to smirk.
“C’mon, hon, you need to get cleaned up,” she said, reaching down to shake my knee. “You were outside for a while. You’re probably all sticky. You need to shower. C’mon.”
“Uh… fine,” I said, rolling my eyes, letting my controller drop to my lap. “You know, I don’t really want to go to this stupid thing anyway,” I said calmly. “It’s never fun.”
“I know,” she replied with a knowing smile. “You think I want to go? I would much rather be outside in a bikini working on my tan, but…”
“That doesn’t sound so bad…” I replied, unable to stop myself from giving her that knowing, flirty tone. Hey, I stopped myself when I could, but I couldn’t hold back completely. That simply wasn’t in my character. But Mom always seemed to enjoy my bravado a bit, always giving me warm looks, that same cute eye-roll, and that small slightly excited smile whenever ever I said this. Dad was a work-focused man, so I doubted he still gave her this kind of flirty attention. Knowing Mom seemed to enjoy these comments, our relationship had gained a sort of flirty tone at times. It was innocent, honest. Mom had to know she was really hot, and if Dad wasn’t telling her this, then I’m sure she enjoyed being reminded of this fact, even if this attention was coming from her own son. And she would give it back to me, giving me a wolf-whistle when she would see me shirtless, or calling me ‘handsome’ or ‘stud’, stuff like that. It was all in good fun, but I think there was a tinge of truth in it, from both sides.
“Alright, cool it, bucko,” she said, shutting me down. “We’ve got to do these things. Your father gives us a good life. It’s the least we can do.”