Erotic Mother Son Stories Novels & Stories

Alice dared to slap the most popular bad boy in school, Raymond. Raymond won't let her go, he decided to teach her a lesson she would never forget but in the process, an unexpected bond grew between the two.

Being rejected by one organisation to another was Melanie Watson, she graduated from the state university three years ago but couldn't secure a job because of her poor diploma. She didn't stop job hunting because of the loan she's going to refund in few weeks time. She borrowed some money from a fiercely casino to sponsor her education and she's to refund the money in three folds. A few weeks to the allotted time, Melanie was offered a babysitting job. She hasn't meet with the baby she's going to babysit before she requested for a year's advance payment. How will she cope when she gets to the mansion and realise that the boy she's going to babysit is not just a boy, but Archie Gordon, a thirteen years old boy who resents his father with passion? Melanie found herself stuck between the father and son discomfort that she was going to face for the next year. How will she cope when she found herself falling in love with Alfred Gordon and she's to choose between the broken son who wants her attention and the father who wants nothing but her love?

My mother-in-law brings a woman from the countryside. She looks like she's up to no good when she asks my husband and I to care for the woman. My husband is a mama's boy through and through. His gaze darts around, and he doesn't object to his mother's words. Is it a trend nowadays for people to serve mistresses on a silver platter? It looks like I'll have to do my best in "caring" for them, then…

After fifteen years of marriage, my wife, Tiffany Yarwood, who insisted on being child-free, wanted to become pregnant with her childhood friend’s baby. “Taylor’s grandmother is dying. Her only remaining wish was for him to have an offspring. I have to help him with this!” Unable to accept this, I went to my parents-in-law to reason with them. But they snubbed me with gentle yet cutting words. “Tiff’s womb belongs to her. She has the right to decide whose child to bear. “Don’t you love her enough to give your life to her? If you can’t even tolerate such a small matter, how can you protect her for a lifetime?” Tormented by grief, I had no choice but to compromise with teary eyes. “Fine! I agree to let you have a test-tube baby for him. But after giving birth to the baby, you can’t have any further involvement with them.” Tiffany, relying on my love for her, confidently refused. “Not a test-tube baby! Taylor’s grandma is traditional. She’ll only accept babies born naturally. “Besides, I will be taking care of the child after giving birth. I can’t let the baby grow up without a mother!” I closed my eyes and exhaled. “If that’s the case, let’s divorce. You can live with him as a family of three.”

The school boxing match. My son Leo’s gloves were lined with broken glass. I carried him from the ring. Blood was everywhere, staining the canvas crimson. And Isabella, the monster behind it all, just stood there smirking. A snake's smile. She dragged her son over, then slapped me. Hard. Again and again. She tried to force me to my knees. "Some gutter trash like you… thinks he can challenge the Falcone heir? This is what happens. Believe me, I say the word, and you disappear. Poof." I just raised an eyebrow. The Falcone family has one heir this generation. My son, Leo. So when did a Falcone become gutter trash? I wiped the blood from my lip. I called the Don—the man my father made. "I hear the Falcone family has a new heir." Let's see who has the nerve to touch the old Don's grandson.

The ambulance’s siren blared as it sped toward the hospital. But an obnoxious power-walking mob blocked its path at the entrance of our residential area. As a result, the ambulance could not leave the area. I got out of the car to negotiate with that group of power-walkers. I immediately recognized that the woman who led the mob was none other than my mother-in-law, Miranda White. “Miranda, the illness of someone important to me has flared up. He’s in critical condition! “Please get these people to move and let the ambulance pass! Quick!” I was frantic with worry. But Miranda shot me a sideways glance and jumped to conclusions. “He should’ve died a long time ago! “He’s your father. What gives him the nerve to interfere in Caleb’s marital home?! If he’s sick, he deserves it!” Right after she finished her sentence, she waved her arms and called more people over. The number of people joining the power-walking mob continued to increase. They packed the road so tightly that it was completely blocked. When it became clear the ambulance could not possibly leave the area, Miranda shot me a smug glance. She picked up her phone and said in a coy voice, “Honey, what are you doing at home? Come down and join me for a power walk! Getting some exercise is what matters most for your health.” Inside the ambulance, the phone screen next to the patient lit up for a moment, then went dark again. It was not my father who had collapsed.

“Grandfather, please don't marry me off to this waste of space. He is just a lowlife that is sick, carrying diseases around, and being gross!” Ava said, getting more and more enraged with each word coming from her mouth. “That's enough! Ava, stop that right now!” Mrs. Taylor said. “Don’t order your grandfather!” “If you insist on giving Ava to me, I would walk out of here now and never look back. A woman like her is not something that interests me.” Zane said, his voice steady as he met the old man's eyes, his words pissing Ava and her parents off.

“He’s not yours,” I said, each word slicing through him like glass. Valentine stared at me, stunned, like I’d slapped him. Maybe I should’ve. That would’ve been easier than this. I thought I’d buried the past the day I ran—pregnant, heartbroken, and alone. Valentine Hale was the love of my life… until he shattered it. He never knew I was carrying his child. He never tried to find me. I raised our son alone. But fate doesn’t forget. Now I’m back in the one place I swore I’d never return to. And Valentine? He’s here. He’s looking at me like he still feels it. Valentine- She was human. Off-limits. But I touched her anyway. Loved her. Marked her. Then I walked away before the pack could find out. Before I destroyed us both. But now, Vivian’s back—with a kid who smells like me. But now I bear a secret, a curse from my father the previous alpha and I cannot risk their lives. I need to protect them. I need them. I feel it in my blood. He’s mine. She’s mine. They both always were.

Nick Owen might be the biggest and strongest alpha wolf in the moonlight pack, but he is no better than the slave and servants, and that is because he was born a bastard. He soon finds out that his destined mate was none other than the rogue he had previously arrested, who at that moment claims to be his evil stepbrother's mate. He is heartbroken and promises to get back at her for picking his stepbrother over him. Kyle is the only daughter of her witch human mother and a wolf father that she has never seen. Her desperation to find her father leads her to a pack where she is forced to make an unpleasant deal in other to save her life. What happens when the bastard and the rogue find out that they are siblings? Could the moon goddess in her all-knowing wisdom make a mistake of matching them as mates or have they lied to their entire life? find out in this suspense-filled story.

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.