Mother And Sex Stories Novels & Stories

Hey Wet Diary...... Omg I can't believe it but it happened! I actually had sex with my own mother! It was such an amazing night of intense, wild sex. We were both drunk and on her bed after we watched this soft p**n movie I dared her into watching. I mentioned how I've been feeling so horny lately, and asked what she thought was wrong with me. She said it was nothing, that she gets the same way too sometimes. We talked a little about guys and our disappointments, and I was leaning back into her, and at some point she started massaging my shoulders.

TITLE: My Mom & I Introduction: Busty mom and well-hung son go on a cross country road trip. Hi Guys, This story describes the adventures of a busty mom and her well-hung son, both of them blessed with incredible sexual endurance. If that's not your cup of tea, please look elsewhere—I wouldn't want to disappoint you. Please note: This story contains a lot of erotic scenes. Readers discretion is advised. Enjoy.... ********* "Are you sure you guys are going to be okay?" Hal Preston asked his wife and son.

"That is what I am here for. Do you feel ready to tell me what happened?" I swallowed hard, my hands gripping the edge of the cushion tightly. I struggled with the words in my head for a long moment, trying to find a way to explain the crazy mess I was in without sounding completely insane. Finally, I looked up at her, my eyes full of fear and confusion. "Dr. Evelyn... can a person sleepwalk and have sex with someone without knowing it is real?"

"An older man fucking you like you're his property. Tell me the truth, Lia." "Yes! Yes, Julian! Harder, please, fuck me harder!" I sobbed, completely losing my mind from the pleasure. He gripped my waist with both of his huge hands, lifting my body slightly with every single downward plunge, driving his dick so deep I could feel it hitting the very top of my womb. The forbidden nature of it, the raw age gap, the way he completely controlled every inch of my body pushed me straight over the edge. My tight walls clamped down on his long dick like a vice, contracting wildly over and over again as a massive, uncontrollable squirt burst out of me, drenching his thighs and his stomach.

"Martin, do you still think I'm lying to you even now? In seven years of marriage, have I ever neglected Mom once? But ever since Waverly came back, you stopped caring about anything at home. "Am I the one lying? You were the one who begged to marry me back then, and now you think I'm threatening you with our marriage? Everyone can see how close you and Waverly have gotten. I don't believe you haven't heard the gossip. Forget it... I'm exhausted. Just go. I want to spend some time with Mom." Martin's face went pale, and his eyes filled with nervous tension as he looked at me. "Stella, you need to tell me. What happened to Mom?"

I was going to exorcise it. I pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed. Then I turned my back to him, bent over, and placed my hands on the mattress. I arched my back, presenting myself. The cool air of the room kissed my wet, exposed pussy lips. I looked over my shoulder, my hair a messy curtain. “Fuck me,” I said, the words vulgar and perfect. “Fuck me like you fucked my mom.”

"You didn't care that Julia was suffering from severe heatstroke. You didn't believe it when a student reported her condition to you. You even stopped Mr. Hodge when he was trying to save her! So you're afraid that people might accuse you of playing favorites, huh?" Dad slowly stepped closer to Mom. "Congratulations. You made it. No one will dare accuse you of playing favorites now. "Everyone in this world now knows that you, Monica Campbell, are the strictest and most impartial woman alive—and you achieved that by sacrificing your daughter's life. How the hell are you even fit to be called a mother?" He practically shouted at the last few words. Mom's knees buckled, and her body slid right

We were so lost in each other that we did not hear the front door open. The sound of keys hitting the entry table snapped us out of our bubble. My mother stood in the doorway of the living room, frozen in place. She was still wearing the dress from her date the night before, her purse slung over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene: her twenty-year-old son on the couch with her thirty-three-year-old best friend straddling his lap, kissing passionately, Rachel’s shirt ridden up and my hands clearly under it on her bare skin.

"It's a story about sex." "Depends on what?" My erection, which had softened, swelled again, and I made no attempt to conceal it. "I like sex stories." "It depends on what you're comfortable with," Mom said as she turned and looked out to sea. The sky had darkened; rain was on the way. She turned back and spoke just above a whisper, "This one is about her and her son." We weren't going to talk about Brooke and Rob. Well, we were, but we weren't. I looked into my mother's eyes, letting my fingers lightly brush over the bulge in my shorts, "I'd like to hear it."

My death caused a huge stir in the neighborhood. I had always been known as a diligent and hardworking student, so people found it impossible to believe that I had been abused at home for being lazy. Some classmates who had been close to me posted the story online. In their posts, they listed all the favoritism my mom had shown over the years, along with that ridiculous software she had created. The story quickly spread across the internet. Netizens flooded the comment sections. [Does a woman like this even deserve to be called a mother? She must be punished!]