Drunk Mom Taboo Novels & Stories

"When she found out that you left America, she wasn't in a great state. She's confuse, just like you. She distracted herself with work even sometimes she slept with a man or two but people around her notice that she's a robot. It's like she was programmed to live." "I don't want to repeat the same mistake, dad. Coming back here made it more worse." I ran my hands through my hair. "So you really don't want to be with Serena again?" He asked and I still can't answer that. "Matthew Lemiere! Why are you drinking in daylight?!" My mom bursted angrily when she saw me and my dad drinking wine. "Baby.. I can explain." "I told you to reduce alcohol! I swear I will find that secret drawer where you hi

I said. "She's getting married today isn't she?". Mom asked and I nodded. "Then let's hit a bar". Mom suggested and I glared at her. "I am not taking you to any bar mom, don't you remember what you did last time?". I asked her. The thought of what she did the last time she got drunk was still in my head and I seriously don't want to deal with a drunk mom... that's so embarrassing. "Oh come on it was just one time and you have taken it to heart". Mom pouted.

well, mostly for Mom. "Great game, Jerry," Mom slurs, wrapping her arms around him in a drunken embrace. J's eyes narrow as he pulls away from her. "Are you drunk, Mom?" he asks, his voice filled with disbelief. "I might've had a couple beers," she shrugs nonchalantly, like it's not a fucking big deal. "I can't believe you. For one night, you couldn't go without drinking? What is wrong with you?" "What's the big deal? I'm here, ain't I?" She's shouting now, drawing the attention of people around us.

Why making so much money then? That's the reason why I partied a lot and drinks alcohol but I don't do drugs ok? I am not that stupid!. Party, sex and alcohol that's the only thing I do. Mom always nagging me when she I smelled alcohol. She said I might die young from drinking too much at early age . I understand her but what can I do? When I spend my time all alone in the house I feel like I'm going crazy. I see my mom making something in the kitchen and I greeted her.

“You—you don't have to do that—” “What?” He sat next to me and shook his head. “I'm not sure I understand what you mean. Do you want to explain?” He snuggled next to me with a bowl of popcorn. “It's not an exact party—you know. My mom thinks we shouldn't be drunk in her house. She doesn't know about the ones that have happened before—behind her back—” “Really, Rowan?!” “Oh, shit. Mom!” He cried when he turned and saw her. “Stop poking your nose in my conversation with people.” He cried while she served drinks around. “I don't like it.”

How the hell did I not get the warning that she was literally the only one who can barge into my room so early in the morning. “Mom, why are you here?” “Awe! You reek and smell of alcohol. How can a girl treat herself this way? Just what the hell is wrong with you?" “Nothing is wrong with me, mom. Why would you think Something's is wrong with me?” “Because a normal girl doesn't get wasted this fucking much, I saw, I don't know what to do with you at this rate. You've suddenly gone insane with your drinking habits and I swear I'm scared of what you've become!”

"Oh! So, you're worried about me? You're worried that your one and only son won't be able to give you enough money that you can use for gambling again? You're afraid that we'd go back to that miserable life again?" "Are you drunk again? How many times do I have to tell you not to get drunk ever again?! Go home now or-- "Or what? You'll disown me? How many times are you actually planning to disown me, mom? Why don't you just disown me now, so I could finally live a peaceful life!" "You good for nothing man! Go home now or I'll go there and drag you all the way here?!"

By now I was beyond addicted. Watching my mom get fucked had become the sickest, most shameful obsession of my life. I couldn’t even look at her during the day without my cock twitching. Every smile, every innocent hug, every time she called me “sweetheart” made me remember how she sounded screaming “fuck your dirty mommy harder” while getting railed. That Saturday afternoon she casually told me she was “having some friends over for drinks” and suggested I go out and enjoy the nice weather. My heart started hammering immediately. I knew exactly what that meant.

It contains explicit sexual content and morally grey characters bordering on obsessive, possessive traits willing to ruin their lives for each other. Some triggers include: hemo-eroticism, depression, incest/parental abuse, off-the-page rape set in the past, infidelity, pregnancy loss, stalking, aggravated jealousy, mentions of sexual assault, extreme psychological abuse, bullying, parental loss, blackmail, graphic sex and sexual harassment, revenge p**n, psychotic displays, dub-con, forced coercion, kidnapping, objectification, degradation, sadism-masochism, suicidal ideation, attempting suicide, murder, breath play.

I wanted to be fed with cock, slapped with cock, bent over, and dicked down like there was no tomorrow. With how addictive p**n was, I couldn’t keep relying on it or pleasuring myself all the time, especially with my family around. I could be caught. And when I am, my mom will think I am sinful and corrupt and might send me to a priest for confession or even ship me off to some religious reform facility. I couldn’t afford that. Not while I was waiting to get into college like everyone else my age. So one morning, after everyone had left, I found myself walking towards the park toilet.