Sexting With My Mom Novels & Stories

Our increasing obsession with each other eventually manifested itself in the form of sexting and sending each other filthy nudes. My parents were more controlling than I had given them credit for. I had no idea they’d been snooping through my phone until they confronted me about its contents. It was awful. They forbade me to see him. They, of course, dangled their money over my head. Their threats only intensified my feelings and resolve.

“Okay, what’s going on? This better not be about your sext buddy.” Amaya avoided her eyes. Zara scoffed. “Are you freaking serious? Still? You haven’t even seen his face!” “I know, Zara,” Amaya sighed, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just... he made me feel something. It was fun at first, mysterious. But now... it’s like I can’t get him out of my head.” “Amaya,” Zara leaned closer, exasperated, “You haven’t heard from him since the photo, right?”

Then I move back beside her, her eyes still searching mine. I sink into the mattress, one arm resting above my head, staring at the ceiling for a brief moment as I steady myself. Then I turn to her. “My m —” I scoff and shake my head. “Fuck, no. My… mom sent one of her usual strings of messages again. At this point she probably thinks she’s being slick with it, the way she keeps bombarding me with those damn, stupid sentimental texts every now and then,” I blurt out. I don’t know if I love it or hate it when Ava’s honey brown eyes soften like that. It almost looks like pity, and that makes something in my chest twist.

I say with a mischievous grin. "You have a rather Machiavellian mind, my dear, but maybe one of these days, I'll take you up on that." We both start laughing, and out of nowhere, mom opens my bedroom door. Unable to help it, we both laugh even harder. "You two seem very cheerful; what are you planning now?" She asks, alternating her gaze between the two of us. "Nothing, mom." I respond with a pout, "we're just talking about seduction techniques." Mom looks at us, not quite convinced by my words, but she lets it slide, at least for the moment.

While I knew this outcome was inevitable, I still wanted to add fuel to the fire. Recently, Dad had a new female supervisor at work. I learned about it because not long ago, Mom made Dad swear again—just like in the past. She was hypersensitive to any new woman in my dad's life. I then secretly went through Dad's phone and tweaked a group email from his company. I made it appear as if that female supervisor had personally invited my dad to a private gathering. Everything was set. Just as I anticipated, Mom fell headfirst into the trap. Following the details in the email, she took a cab to a hotel.

I was going to take those who incited harassment and deliberately twisted the truth to court and use the law to defend myself. As for some people, I had nothing more to say to them. Turning to Christy, I said, "I'm free now, but you're still far from it." Right then, Mom snapped out of it and immediately grabbed Christy, which freaked her out. "What are you doing? This has nothing to do with me! Let me go!" Alan and I exchanged a knowing smile, turned around, and walked away. Mom, on the other hand, had a death grip on Christy and refused to let go.

And entitled boys like Shawn with district attorneys as their daddies, do not take rejection well. Ah, well, that’s just life. If I had everything I wanted, I’d be riding Derek, on the road of chain-orgasms. Everything seems relatively under control in the days after Masturbationgate until my mom announces that she’s going away for a vacation, leaving me here with the devil himself.

However, the moment I saw one, I couldn’t say a single word. Just like my dad, I’ve lived honestly and barely dated. Still, my drawer is full of toys, and I’ve paid for VIP memberships on certain websites. I really couldn’t understand it. Could it be… that I was actually picked up from a trash bin? “Mom, can you explain this properly? What do you mean, ‘he might be my dad’? I’m only twenty. I’m not ready for this kind of childhood trauma!” My mom was vague. “I sent you his contact on WhatsApp. Add him, meet once, and you’ll understand.”

I'm prepared to hand my mother my phone and show her my supposed brilliant idea for family bonding and relaxation. "Mom, I think we should all do Yoga in the park this Saturday." My mother looks up from her obvious erotic novel. By now, her book characters are having sex and are getting down and dirty. I know what sex readers' eyes look like. I've had that guilty turned-on face before. There's no time to discuss my mother and her soft porn reading addiction.

My fiancee, Natalie Crenshaw, has always had a phenomenal memory. She never forgets a thing. Yet, when I propose, she forgets to hold out her hand for the diamond ring. When we go to get our marriage certificate, she forgets to bring her identification papers. And on our wedding day, she forgets she's supposed to be there altogether. Why? Because she's busy saving her childhood sweetheart's wedding next door—by stepping in as the bride herself. Seeing all this, Mom suffers a heart attack. I beg Natalie to go to the hospital and explain things, but she simply links her arm with Erik Cuoco's mother, sweetly calling her "Mom", and claims that I'm nothing more than a pursuer who doesn't kn