Mom's Butt Novels & Stories

As Mandy's snug rectum tried to get used to having the flexing, deeply stuffing presence off my fat cockmeat widening her chute instead of her usual toys, Deb pulled back from our wild kiss and addressed her deliriously moaning, thoroughly cock-impaled and obviously very happy mother. "Oh my god, Mom, this is amazing! You look so sexy with all that dick up your butt, and your asshole is super stretched! Soooo hot..." Deb said, planting a playful slap on her mother's big schlong-skewered bubble-butt. Chuckling and locked gazes with her mother, Deb went on: "Isn't this better than your dildos? Like, a thousand times better!? Didn't I tell you that Jeff's got the best cock, especially for butts

Irritated, Barbara slapped him and said, "Why are you crying? No one died in this house." The five or six-year-old Jerry Miller cried and said sadly, "Mom is mean, Mom is a witch. I don't like Mom anymore!" Barbara, already in a bad mood, was even more angered by her son's public mockery, making her want to slap him again. The mother and son created a chaotic scene in the living room. Madam Martínez had a displeased expression and said calmly, "Haley, after signing the contract, come to my study with me."

For how much I wanted something so wrong, so forbidden. When they finally returned home from their errands, Mom was still all over him. She dragged him straight to the couch, curling up against his side like she owned him completely, her head on his shoulder while they watched some mindless show. I sat on the opposite side of the room in the armchair, pretending to scroll through my phone, but I couldn’t stop stealing glances at them.

But Mom, as long as you’re happy, I am happy too. I reached out to touch the bunny plush. My hand passed right through it. How…? Panic rose in my chest. Then I heard the sound of a key turning in the door. Mom and Dad were back.

when I was alive. It didn't take long before our relatives swarmed out of Aunt Gabriella's house. Mom was at the very front. Her hair was a mess, and she had lost a shoe. Her normally neat and tidy clothes were stained with snow and mud. Gone was the woman who prioritized her reputation above all else and was terrified of being ridiculed. She collapsed next to the icy river and stared at my body. She became as still as a statue. She didn't cry. She simply stared unblinkingly at me. Her lips trembled, but she didn't say a word.

During a holiday, when I told my mother that my boyfriend would be coming to my house, her expression darkened. Tears welled up in her eyes as she touched my face and said in a hoarse voice, “Oh my God... Thank God you’re still alive. “Do you remember what day this is? This time, I’m not letting you die.” She acted as if she were possessed and screamed at me hysterically, “He’s a serial killer! We’ll all die if he comes today. Last time around, I was the only one left!” I believed her. I broke up with him and called the police to have him arrested. I let out a sigh of relief as I watched him get taken away, and my mother revealed a triumphant smile. She then said calmly, “That’s that.

My mother, Sophie Nash, was also my homeroom teacher, and she loved nothing more than using me to assert her authority. She was convinced that the worse off I was, the more afraid my classmates would be, and the higher her authority would be. Once, when I passed an eraser to a classmate during class, she slapped me so hard across the face in front of the whole class that my face swelled up. Another time, after I secretly ate a crumb of a classmate’s snack during recess, my mom dragged me up to the front of the classroom and pricked my lip with a needle until blood gushed out. Later, when a classmate was caught by the vice principal for having a romantic relationship while underaged, my m

Mom is one of the most famous reporters in the country. She exposes all kinds of wrongdoing, and the public hails her as a champion of justice. What she doesn't know is that while she's out fighting for other people, I'm being viciously bullied at school. When I finally work up the courage to ask her for help, she gives me a disgusted look and tells me to quit being so dramatic. Eventually, my bullies beat me to death and bury my body in a reeking drainage ditch. When my body is finally dug up, Mom is the reporter sent to cover the scene.

Agent Vernon chuckled. “She was a good fighter,” Agent Jane said while trying to stop herself from giggling. “They said she had quick hands and she could usually put down her opponent in just a few seconds. She was a vicious fighter. They called her The Gunmetal Mama. Sometimes she would come out holding a gun that wasn’t loaded. Every time she’d come out to fight, they would play music by her favorite rapper, Tupac Shakur,” Agent Jane explained through her giggling.

It kind of kicked me back a little. “Wow, when did you become so straight forward?” I asked, reeling back a little. “Don’t take it personally sis, I have a fuck tone of shit to do, and if my mum find’s out that you were out here, she will literally tear me a new asshole”. I snorted and laughed a little harder than I expect. I have never heard Nat speak like that. She is always so sweet and innocent, a little sarcastic and sometimes cheeky, but not so ‘Wham’ in your face.