Literotic asexstories – Putting on a Show for Her Mom by UnironicSmutPeddler,UnironicSmutPeddler Author’s Note: This story is not realistic. People do not behave like this in real life. Take it about as seriously as a random hornypost.
Also, there’s no incest. It flirts with the line a little at certain moments. All characters portrayed are consenting adults of at least 18 years of age.
This is a standalone story.
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“We have to be quiet,” hissed my girlfriend Shana. “My mom might hear us!”
“Good,” I said.
I had her face down in her childhood bed, naked as the day she was born, a handful of her dishwater-blonde hair in my grasp while my free hand smacked her freckled ass. I had her practically eating the sheets.
“You can’t mean that,” she said. Her voice was muffled now, almost taunting me to go harder. Her cute, round butt stuck out at me provocatively, pressing up against my crotch, as I loomed over her. I smacked it again and a hard, loud noise rang out in the quiet room. She shrieked and her reddened ass cheeks shook like jello.
“Ow!” she squealed. “Oh Daddy, that hurt.”
“Then why are you getting wetter?”
“Shh!”
I chuckled and spanked her again. She let out a shrill exclamation of mock indignance and I felt her legs shudder beneath me.
“I’m serious,” she said into the blankets. “Mom’s in the next room over!”
“This can’t be the first time you’ve brought a guy over,” I said. “You’re a grown woman.”
“Dnmtrrr,” she said.
“What?”
I released my death grip on her scalp and she came up for air, panting, glancing around nervously with a flushed, tear-streaked face.
“Doesn’t matter!” she hissed. “She wouldn’t appreciate hearing me curse. When I really get going I can’t control what comes out of my mouth.”
“Why did she invite us to stay the night if she isn’t prepared to hear something interesting?”
“Obviously she knows we’re fucking,” she said, rolling her eyes and unconsciously pressing her butt even harder against me. “But I don’t think she needs to hear ALL the details, does she?”
“Like what?”
I unzipped my jeans and pulled out my hardening dick. It stuck out at her and swayed obscenely in the open air of her room. Her eyes widened at it.
“Like… Um…” she said. “I forgot what I was going to say.”
I laughed loudly and rubbed the tip of my manhood against her damp and inviting slit. “I fucking love you, Shana.”
“I love you t–”
I slammed her face back down into her bed sheets and slid into her like a hot knife through butter. She yelped and moaned out in abject pleasure as I pounded away, filling the room with the unmistakable sounds of our carnal indiscretion.
“She already knows her daughter is a slut,” I insisted. She moaned in response, whatever words she intended to rebuke me with melting into desperate incoherence. The sweat from our naked bodies gleamed under the dim lamplight of her bedroom. Her mother couldn’t have been that shocked that her daughter was getting it on. Shana had that vibe about her. But the thrill of reducing her to a whimpering, horny mess in the room she grew up in filled me with a wicked sort of fascination. I wasn’t too dirty-minded for Shana, mind you. We were just the right amount of dirty for each other.
I flipped her over on her back and the slender, petite girl’s perky tits flopped against her chest. She gazed up at me, panting, embarrassed, aroused. Her eyes were wide and glossed over with molten lust. I gripped her by the ankles and rested her long, skinny legs over each of my shoulders as I prepared to enter her again.
“Please,” she pleaded, her voice broken.
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
She reached up towards my face with her small, searching hands, as if trying to coax me back in. “Please fill me up, Daddy. Make me your whore.”
“That’s more like it.”
I plunged back into her waiting cunt and she cried out sharply. She slapped one of her hands over her mouth to stifle the moans. I pushed her hand away and she tried to cover her face with her pillow. I grabbed that too and threw it off the bed.
“Are you really trying to get us in trouble?” she whimpered. I gripped one of her pink, hard nipples between my fingers and pinched it. She squealed and giggled. “You’re gonna regret this at breakfast tomorrow morning when she’s giving us sideways looks.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” I said. “It’s you who should be embarrassed. She’s your mom, not mine.”
“I hope she’s sleeping. I haven’t heard her for a while.”
“She’s going to have some pretty interesting dreams.”
“You evil man!”
I slammed into her again, fucking Shana like a flimsy rag doll. She was so tight, so supple, so eager. My pounding intensified. Her tits were practically breaking the sound barrier now.
“Oh god!” she wailed, her head thrown back, squinting in ecstasy. “Oh baby, I’m right there.”
“Fuck!” I grunted. “Yeah, you little slut. You want daddy’s milk?”
“Oh yes daddy! Please, I want it so bad.”
“Where do you want it, Shana?”
Her eyes flicked open and she panted out a hoarse response. “On my tits. I wanna feel it on my skin.”
“Such a slut,” I said. “Moan for me. Let me know you want it.”
“Oh god…”
She was utterly losing her composure now. Her eyes rolled back in her head as another orgasm crashed into her like a big horny freight train. Any pretense of ‘keeping it down’ was pretty well out the window now. The sight of her flopping tits and the look of pure bliss on her pretty little face sent me over the edge and I frantically pulled out.
“Fuck! Oh god, Shana…”
I jerked myself off onto her pale, heaving tits. Thick, white ropes of semen painted her in the glistening evidence of my desire. Soon her chest was wet and gleaming with a mixture of sweat and cum. My legs went weak then and I collapsed into the bed beside her with a final grunt of release.
“Oh my god,” she sighed, coming down from her rapturous high. “Daddy…”
I caught my breath, still clutching my dick even as it softened in my hand. Shana looked down at herself and rubbed the cum into her skin with a detached fascination. She turned on her side to face me, pulling me in close, planting small, tender, satisfied kisses all over my face.
“I’m so embarrassed!” she whispered, although her voice betrayed a naughty playfulness. “She definitely heard us.”
“Probably,” I said. “You don’t really think she’ll mind, do you?”
“Nah,” she said. “My mom’s pretty chill with sex stuff. I just hope we didn’t wake her.”
I picked up her discarded panties and began to wipe the cum off her chest in soft, gentle strokes.
“What’s for breakfast?” I asked.
She slapped my arm and giggled despite herself. “You pig!”
***
The next morning my girlfriend and I showered and dressed slowly, lingering in her bedroom until nearly 10 AM, almost as if to put off the inevitable. Making a sexual display of Mrs. Watson’s daughter in the heat of the moment and from behind a closed door was one thing. Facing her at breakfast was going to be something else.
“I told you to be quiet!” Shana reproached me, fastening on her bra and pulling a loose white T-shirt over her head. “You could’ve settled for slow, romantic lovemaking but noooo. You just have to be the human jackhammer every time, don’t you?”
“This isn’t the fucking Notebook.”
She planted a small kiss on my cheek and her full lips stretched into a secret, lecherous smile. Her blonde hair hung around her shoulders in disheveled streaks. “Go on then, stud. Go explain to my mother what those noises were last night. Must’ve been a ghost, right?”
“I’m good. Not even slightly embarrassed.”
“We’ll see how your eye contact is at breakfast. I’ll be watching you.”
“Now you’re making me self-conscious.”
“Gross.” She leaned in for another kiss and grasped onto my bulge with searching fingers. “Don’t give me the ick.”
We emerged from her bedroom and filed down the staircase to the kitchen. Shana had been trying for months to get me over to her mom’s house and last night she had finally gotten me to agree to it. To ‘show me off’ as she put it. We were both in college and lived in separate apartments in the city, but Mrs. Watson still made every excuse possible to see her daughter, even now. Occasionally Shana would still come over and spend the night to keep her mom company. I was sure I wasn’t the first boyfriend she brought with her on such occasions, but it was a first for me. I was nervous.
“Do you really think she approves of me?” I asked quietly as we slowly descended the steps. The smell of bacon and pancakes wafted up to us from the kitchen and I remembered my hunger.
“You made a good impression at dinner last night,” Shana answered. “Don’t worry yourself. It’s unattractive.”
We entered the kitchen and saw that Shana’s mom was already hard at work. The frying pan sizzled and the coffee pot grumbled in the corner. Mrs. Watson was at the sink with her back to us, rinsing dishes, humming to herself cheerfully.
“Morning, Mom!” Shana called.
The older woman shut off the faucet and turned to face us, her elegant features lighting up into a sweet and motherly smile. She was a beautiful woman in her own right. Fuller and more bosomy than her daughter, probably in her early forties by now, but possessing much the same aggressive beauty. A pink, cutesy apron hugged her frame and her slender legs danced under a classy red sundress.
“Good morning, lovebirds,” she said. “Go ahead and sit down! Food’s almost ready.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Watson,” I said.
Shana’s mom nodded at me, her dark green eyes narrowing into knowing slits. Oh yeah, she definitely heard.
Shana and I sat down at the table and helped ourselves to the coffee Mrs. Watson had prepared for us. My girlfriend teased me under the table with her stocking foot, rubbing up against my leg. Her cheeks were pink with nervous excitement. I stared back at her with a smirk.
“I must say, that was one long shower,” said Mrs. Watson, setting our generous plates of food in front of us. She sat down and quietly said grace before taking the first bite. Very respectable, that Mrs. Watson.
“We needed to get extra clean,” Shana explained. I gulped and fidgeted in my chair. My girlfriend giggled.
“It’s summertime,” said her mom, taking a ladylike sip from her tea. “It gets awfully sweaty in the summertime, doesn’t it?”
Shana’s foot continued to rub up against my leg. I felt a growing stiffness in my pants, grateful that there was a table shielding the view from her mother. Did it even matter at this point? Shana was right, I was finding eye contact with her mother a little difficult. I was really hoping she wouldn’t bring it up.
“I hate to bring it up,” said Mrs. Watson, wiping the edges of her mouth with a napkin and eyeing us slyly, “but I have to get my beauty sleep at night. You guys are making that hard for me.”
Shana looked up from her plate, swallowing a mouthful of bacon. “What do you mean, Mom?”
Mrs. Watson feigned an awkward cough before proceeding. “Listen, I know how it is when you’re young and you have the bedroom all to yourselves, but please consider your poor mother before you go rearranging the walls!”
I nearly spat out my food. This was rather more awkward than I anticipated.
“S-sorry, Mrs. Watson,” I offered bashfully.
She rolled her eyes. Her daughter burst into hysterical laughter.
“I’m sorry,” Shana said, waving a hand in front of her face as if to push away the laughs. “That was funny.”
“Hilarious,” her mother said sarcastically, giving her that side-eye Shana warned me about. She sighed and shook her head at me wearily. “I know you guys are… happy… with each other, but that was almost three hours of nonstop racket. I counted at least three ‘big ones’ as well as some awfully dirty language that I DEFINITELY–”
She pointed a stern finger at my girlfriend who shrunk timidly in her chair.
“–did NOT teach my daughter.”
“I didn’t teach her that either,” I said.
Shana shot me a look.
“I don’t mind that you guys are having sex in your bedroom,” Mrs. Watson continued. “I don’t even mind that you do it with me in the house, which is more than a lot of moms will say. But you have GOT to be courteous with the noise!”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Shana said genuinely.
“Yeah, real sorry,” I said.
The older woman chuckled and waved it off. “It’s beautiful what you two have, it really is.”
“You should get your own date, Mom,” said Shana with a teasing grin. “To help you with your… beauty sleep.”
“If only,” Mrs. Watson said with a sigh. “Things have been pretty dry since your father moved on.”
“Yeah, but that was years ago. Why haven’t you dated anyone yet?”
Mrs. Watson considered this and shrugged. “I just haven’t met the right person. If I get with someone, I want it to mean something, you know?”
“That makes sense,” I said.
“Incidentally, I hope this isn’t just some trifling fling. You do intend to treat my daughter like a lady, don’t you?”
“Shana means a lot to me,” I assured her. “It’s not a fling.”
“Good.”
Shana’s foot was getting more adventurous now. Her toes glided up the side of my leg and found my crotch.
“I wouldn’t have brought him over here if he was just messing around,” Shana insisted. “We’re serious, aren’t we, baby?”
“Of course–”
Shana shocked me by leaning in for a deep, passionate kiss. I wasn’t expecting THAT, nor did I expect the tongue. Mrs. Watson watched in quiet amusement as her daughter sucked at my face with an almost obscene enthusiasm.
“Are you two going to finish your breakfast or not?” she eventually interjected.
My girlfriend released me from her oral grip and caught her breath. “Of course, Mom.”
Her hand traveled over my crotch, fondling me under the table while her other hand shoveled another mouthful of food into her mouth. I was aghast at her boldness, quickly realizing that this mother-daughter pair had a particularly unique dynamic.
“Are you in school too?” Mrs. Watson asked me.
I cleared my throat. “Um, yes I am. I’m studying to become a music teacher.”
“High school?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She clicked her tongue and took a careful sip from her tea. “Not a lot of money in that, I hear.”
“It’s honorable work, Mom,” Shana said.
My girlfriend’s fingers gently wrapped around the tent forming in my pants and I squirmed a little despite my best efforts to stay still. What was this girl trying to do? Jerk me off at the breakfast table?
“You’re a little restless there, young man,” said her mom. “Ants in your pants? Is my old, boring company too tedious for you?”
“No ma’am,” I answered. “Anyway, I’m going to graduate this year. We’re thinking about moving in together once I’m done with my studies.”
“Wise,” she said. “Very prudent young man.”
“He’s intelligent,” Shana boasted. “Which is hot. And he’s tall too–did you see how tall he is?”
“Indeed.”
Shana’s hand slipped inside my pants and I felt her little fingers wrapping around my hardened cock. Jesus, this was getting a little out of hand. I re-payed her by reaching up her skirt and teasing her with my index finger. She swallowed hard and sighed. It was wet there. It was warm.
Her mother’s eye flicked from her to me. The slightest ghost of a smile formed on her lips.
“You’ll be staying another night, yes?” she asked.
“Um,” I said, looking over at my girlfriend. Shana’s smirk widened and she nodded. I shrugged. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose–”
“Not at all, not at all. I don’t get to see my little girl very much these days. I’ve kept her room just the same as it was before she moved out, haven’t I sweetie?”
“Mm-hmm,” said Shana. Her voice cracked a little as I continued to punish her impropriety with even more teasing. Her grip around my cock didn’t loosen, however. Her arousal was palpable.
Mrs. Watson eyed us knowingly.
“I hope you two are using protection,” she said.
“I’m on the pill,” Shana assured her. “And he pulls out.”
“I see.” Our handsy games were creating some friction. The older woman took notice of the gentle vibrations rocking the table. “Well. I can see that there are more pressing matters at hand than this conversation, aren’t there?”
“What do you mean, Mom?”
Mrs. Watson shook her head at her daughter. “Baby, do you think I was born yesterday?”
“Sorry, Mom.” Shana withdrew her hand from my pants and I pulled her skirt back down, feigning ignorance. “I can’t help it sometimes.”
Her mother nodded sympathetically. “Do you guys need some alone time? It’s okay if you do.”
“Um, I dunno what you mean.”
Her mom laughed. “Oh goodness gracious. I can smell you under the table, Shana.”
Her daughter turned a bright shade of pink. “Really?”
“Yes. You give off a very particular… scent… when you’re in a certain state of mind, dear.”
It was my turn to laugh. Shana glared at me.
“Sorry, that was funny,” I said.
“Hilarious,” said Mrs. Watson.
Shana squeezed her thighs together and let out an involuntary sigh of frustration. “Can we please be excused? I really want my boyfriend right now.”
“Scrape your plates and put them in the sink first!” her mom said sternly. “I’m not a housemaid, you know.”
***
Moments later my girlfriend pushed me down on her bed and pulled off her shirt. I undid my belt, taken aback by her sudden brazenness.
“I’m starting to think you actually WANT to put on a show for your mom,” I said.
“Shh! You like it,” she teased, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the carpeted floor. Her glorious tits sprang out and stood proudly on her ripe, supple chest. “Just take your cock out.”
“I wish you were in this kind of mood all the time,” I said.
Shana pounced on me and began tugging down my jeans. Downstairs, in the kitchen, we could just barely make out the faint sound of the kitchen sink running as her mother washed up. Within seconds Shana had my cock in her hot, eager mouth and she bobbed up and down on it like a starving woman.
“I thought you were all paranoid about her hearing us?” I said between panting breaths.
She pulled off my cock and gave me a classic Shana eye-roll. “I was embarrassed about waking her up. Not about having sex with my own boyfriend, in my own bed.”
“You guys have a pretty… open relationship, huh?”
She trailed a torrent of kisses up my stomach and chest until she reached my lips. Her short, ragged breaths blew hot against my face.
“You know,” she breathed, “in the ‘olden days’ entire families had to share a single bed and sleep in the same room. There was no concept of privacy as we know it. You know what they did when they got horny?”
“Study the Bible and count sheep?”
Shana blew air in my face and gave me a playful peck on the tip of my nose. Her grip around my cock tightened.
“They just fucked,” she explained. “It’s really not that weird. We’re just uptight about it now because we’re decadent.”
“Hmm, interesting point. I’m glad I settled down with an educated girl.”
“Don’t say things like ‘settled down.’ Gives me the ick.”
She straddled me and guided my cock up into her eager chasm, sighing appreciatively as she felt it stretch her out from the inside. Her eyes locked onto mine in a glassy and amorous stare.
“Fuck me hard, Daddy,” she said.
“I think you’re the one fucking me.”
“Don’t say things like ‘I’m fucking you.’ Gives me the–”
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
“Honey?”
Shana’s mom was outside the door. We both froze in mortified surprise.
“What is it, Mom?” Shana piped up, clearing her throat.
“Do you have any dirty laundry?” her mother called to us.
“Yeah. Just give me a minute.”
Shana began gyrating on me again, taking me deep, panting in pleasure. Apparently she intended to finish what we started first.
“I need to start the wash now!” Mrs. Watson said.
Shana groaned in frustration. “If you really want it right now then you’ll have to come in and get it! Just be prepared to see something.”
To my surprise, Mrs. Watson actually did come in. Even more surprising, her daughter didn’t stop. Shana continued to brazenly ride my cock in all her naked glory as the door swung open and her mother waltzed into the bedroom holding a laundry basket in her arms. She stood there in her red sundress, taking in the sight of her own daughter and her boyfriend going at it like animals, studying us in amused silence.
“Um–” I started.
“Shh!” Shana hissed. “Don’t distract me.”
Mrs. Watson shuffled bashfully into my girlfriend’s bedroom and began picking up discarded clothing items, collecting them in her basket. Her daughter panted and moaned audaciously, her tits glistening with sweat, her chest flush with the unmistakable pinkness of her arousal. She slammed up and down on my dick, impaling herself on it, her head thrown back and her face lost in primal ecstasy. It was all sweat and flesh and hair.
“Oh Daddy, yes,” she croaked. “Fill me up. I want you to cover me in it.”
Mrs. Watson cleared her throat at hearing her daughter dirty talk. Open-minded or not, this situation was more than a little obscene. As my girlfriend rode me with shameless abandon, her mom loped around the room like an exasperated cleaning lady in an unkempt hotel room.
“Teenagers,” she sighed to herself. “Even after they move out there’s no getting them to clean properly… Is there anything I forgot to grab, sweetie?”
Shana snapped out of her sexual trance long enough to take a quick cursory glance around the room. “I think you got it all, Mom.”
“Okay, sweetie. Are you still going shopping with the girls later? I want you to pick up some paper towels if you do.”
Shana let out a grunt and shot her mom an icy look, momentarily ceasing her gyrations. “Mom, can’t you see I’m having sex?”
Her mom laughed at her boldness. “Really? I didn’t notice.”
“Go away! I was literally right about to cum before you started talking.”
“Fine, fine!”
Mrs. Watson gathered up the last of Shana’s clothes. As she turned to leave, she took one last moment to soak in the image of her daughter’s naked spectacle. The older woman’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink as she observed her daughter’s flopping tits, her firm bottom pumping away with each thrust, her slender frame, all caked in sweat and the unmistakable stench of arousal.
“Such a pretty little thing,” she mused wistfully, no doubt recalling her own youth.
She leaned in for a chaste and motherly kiss, planting it firmly on her daughter’s reddened cheek. Shana didn’t miss a beat and continued slamming herself down on me with vigor.
“Love you, baby,” her mom said sweetly.
“Love you too, Mom,” Shana panted.
Satisfied, Mrs. Watson turned and quickly shuffled out of the bedroom. She didn’t bother to close the door. At this point, what difference did a closed door make?
“This is normal to you, huh?” I said incredulously.
“Shut up and fuck me harder.”
I couldn’t tolerate such boldness. I swiftly took control, throwing Shana onto her back and plunging deep into her horny cunt. As it was the middle of the day, she evidently didn’t mind letting the whole neighborhood know all about it. She gasped and moaned and cried out to me as I slammed into her flesh, feeling the youthful tightness of her inner chamber envelope me in an ancient and timeless embrace.
“Oh shit, yes!” she cried. “Fuck me like a whore, Daddy. Fuck me like your little girl.”
“You dirty slut,” I said. “You like showing off, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
I gripped one of her tits in my hand and squeezed it cruelly, drawing out a shuddering wail.
“Where do you want Daddy’s cum?”
“On my face.”
“Beg for it.”
Shana’s features scrunched up into a landscape of hunger and her cries grew high and desperate. “Please, Daddy. Please paint me with it. I want it all over my face.”
“What do you want?”
“Your cum,” she hissed, her face red, with shame or arousal I couldn’t tell. “Your sweet baby batter. I want it all over me, Daddy.”
Her hand gingerly stroked my balls even as they swayed with each impassioned thrust.
“Let me have it, Daddy. Paint your little girl.”
That line did me in. I quickly pulled out and erupted, spraying globs of cum onto her eager face. Streaks of white, hot jizz splattered across her chin and her cheeks and the soft edges of her eyes. I roared and cursed and called out her name as I emptied myself. She whimpered for me, taking every drop with enthusiasm.
“Oh my god,” she whined, opening her eyes. “I’m cumming.”
Her hand worked furiously between her legs as she finished herself off, heaving with exhausted breaths. Her glistening chest rose and fell. Before long she began to emit a series of high, plaintive shrieks that rose in passion and volume.
“Oh my fucking god!” she cried. “Daddy!”
Her legs shook and her eyes rolled back. There was no faking that, not the way she did it. She wailed incredibly loudly, milking every ounce of pleasure she could from this violent sexual release. Finally, spent, she shuddered and melted into a satisfied heap of flesh and sweat below me.
“Holy shit,” she whispered in a half-daze. “That was intense.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
She punched my arm in mock protest. “Don’t act like you aren’t a whore too.”
One room over, in low murmuring tones, we could hear Mrs. Watson hum to herself in her room.
***
“Mom and I have always had a special relationship,” Shana said, sipping from her glass of Chardonnay.
“Oh really?” I said. “What exactly does that mean?”
Shana’s full lips cracked into a conspiratorial smirk and she looked around to make sure no one was listening. The restaurant was nice, classy, romantic. Old crooner music played softly over the speakers and two full plates of spaghetti sat before us. The wine flowed freely.
“Dad left us a long time ago,” she said. “But I can still remember hearing them go at it like rabbits almost every single night. They were never shy about sex. I think they were basically like, hippy-free-love types back in the day, so their concept of privacy is a little different from the average person.”
“I get that,” I responded, refilling our glasses, “but she openly watches you fuck?”
“I guess that’s kind of a new thing.”
She reached across the table and took my hand in hers, gripping it sweetly. Her deep green eyes glimmered in the soft candlelight.
“She says she appreciates seeing a healthy, young body doing what nature intended it for,” she went on. “First time she saw me having sex was with my first serious boyfriend, Jack. We dated when I was 18 and he was 24. Mom didn’t like that very much.”
“You’re a bit of a daddy’s girl.”
She giggled. “But before she saw it she heard it. I was embarrassed the first time she brought it up. I was still living with her at the time and when I brought Jack over the first night she knew right away we were going to fuck in my room.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing. Just told me to use a condom. I said he’d pull out if it came to that.”
She took another swig.
“Took him up to my room right after dinner. He fucked my brains out till midnight and I couldn’t be quiet, no matter how hard I tried. At first I tried covering my mouth and moaning into the bed sheets, but by the end of it he had me screaming at the top of my lungs. He made me cum six times that night. It was great.”
“Better than me?” I asked carefully.
She swatted my arm. “Don’t be insecure. Anyway, the next morning she gave me a good talking to about safe sex and contraception and told me I shouldn’t talk so dirty during it. She heard everything. Every. Little. Detail.”
“Hot,” I admitted.
“Freak.”
She took another swig and belched.
“After that, I knew I could be open about it. My boyfriend would come over all the time and plow me in my bed. Eventually, we started doing it in the middle of the day. By the end of the first week, I didn’t even try to hide it anymore. I got in the habit of walking around the house naked and even leaving the door open while we went at it. Mom saw us fuck multiple times. She didn’t mind.”
“Lucky guy,” I said.
Her foot rubbed against my thigh under the table. “But now I have you, silly.”
“Do you ever catch her doing it?”
Shana shook her head. “I mean, obviously I can hear her masturbate because her room is right next to mine. But she doesn’t date anymore. I don’t think I’ve heard her have sex even once since Dad left.”
“Huh.” My eyes drifted down to her soft cleavage. Shana’s breasts rose and fell in delicate heaves inside her fancy dinner dress. She caught me staring, looked down at herself, and flashed me a sly smile.
“Is this conversation giving you ideas?” she asked.
I grinned mischievously. “Maybe just a little.”
I leaned in across the table and kissed her deeply. Her lips melted into mine.
“I wanna fuck you in front of your mom again,” I whispered in her ear.
She didn’t say anything but I saw her lips curl back into a wicked, toothy grin.
“I want her to see her little girl get pounded and filled up. I want her to see who you belong to.”
“Naughty boy,” she whispered back. “What’s this fascination with my mom watching us fuck? Does she turn you on?”
I considered this. “Sure, but it’s not like I want to have sex with her or anything. It’s more like an exhibitionist power thing.”
She nodded, taking in this new information. “How far do you want this to go?”
I shrugged. “I dunno, I guess I’m not sure. I just know that what happened earlier turned me on a lot more than it should have.”
Shana bit her lower lip and her eyes narrowed into smoldering slits. “Let’s get out of here.”
***
The whole drive back to her mother’s house was tense with horny energy. I leaned on the gas pedal a little harder than usual and nearly ran two red lights. Shana’s face was buried in my lap, bobbing up and down on my sopping wet pole.
“Dirty girl,” I grunted. “I can’t wait to get inside you again.”
“Mm-hmm,” she responded in a muffled voice.
I parked on the street. We got out and skipped up the sidewalk towards the house like giggling high-schoolers. At the front door, my girlfriend nibbled on my ear while I rang the doorbell.
“She won’t mind that we went out for dinner, will she?” I asked.
“Nah,” said Shana. “She knows you’re a romantic.”
The door swung open and Mrs. Watson greeted us with a radiant smile.
“Hello, loves,” she said warmly. “My goodness, it’s already 9 o’clock!”
“Sorry for staying out so late, Mom,” said Shana.
“It’s alright, dear. Do you lovebirds want to join me in the living room? I was just about to watch some of my shows.”
I looked at my girlfriend and she looked back at me. I cleared my throat.
“Um, sure thing, Mrs. Watson,” I said.
Shana rolled her eyes but said nothing. She wanted to fuck and so did I, but I also didn’t want to be rude. We’d rejected her mother’s offer for dinner already. I wasn’t about to be a bad guest by shunning her again.
“Well, come inside then,” Mrs. Watson said. “I’ll make us some tea.”
My girlfriend and I curled up under a blanket on the living room couch moments later while her mother poured us two cups of hot tea, still simmering from the kettle. She sat down in her chair across from us and switched on the television. Shana wrapped herself around me, rubbing my thigh under the blanket, and snuggled in close. Mrs. Watson watched us from her chair with silent interest.
“I remember being your age,” said the older woman. “All those raging hormones. All that energy!”
“I still think you should find someone to mess around with, Mom,” said Shana. “You spend too much time alone.”
Her mother waved it off. “Ah well, you know how it goes. There just aren’t many decent candidates left at my age.”
I felt Shana’s arms wrap around me and she rested her head on my shoulder. I was still a little hard. “I’m not saying you have to fall in love and get super serious with someone, Mom. Just have some sex.”
Mrs. Watson chuckled. Her shapely legs crossed together in her summer dress and I caught myself taking a quick peek.
“How long have you two been dating?” she asked.
“Five months,” I said.
“And two days,” Shana added.
Her mom nodded approvingly. “It’s good you’re keeping track. That means you’re serious.”
Under the blanket, I moved my hand up under my girlfriend’s dress and ran my fingers over her panties. She inhaled sharply when I began circling her clit. She suppressed a moan and coughed.
“Of course we’re serious, Mom.”
Mrs. Watson made small talk with us for a while, not paying much attention to the TV, while her daughter and I got progressively more frisky on the couch. Soon I was fingering Shana’s wetness while she softly gasped and unzipped my jeans. Her fingers wrapped around my dick once again, jerking me off in small, measured strokes. The room was heating up. My girlfriend’s cheeks took on that characteristic flush they always get whenever she’s aroused.
“Oh god,” Shana whispered.
Mrs. Watson turned her attention away from the TV and glanced in our direction. “Did you say something, dear?”
“N–ugh–no, Mom.”
Mrs. Watson turned back to the TV and hummed to herself quietly.
I smirked and kept working on her daughter’s clit. Shana’s eyes rolled back in her head and she panted silently, shaking with pleasure. The blanket fell down a little bit, just enough to reveal her heaving tits in her dress. The hard nipples stood out prominently under the fabric.
“Shit,” hissed Shana.
I inserted a finger, drawing out a plaintive gasp.
“Oh!”
Mrs. Watson turned her head to us again. “Honey, what is it?”
I withdrew my hand for a brief moment but Shana grabbed it, shoving it back into her secret place. The blanket was still covering our laps, but the movement underneath was unmistakable. Shana’s mother took a quick glance down at the vigorous activity going on down there and her dark green eyes flashed with understanding.
“Honey,” Mrs. Watson said, “are you making a mess on my couch?”
Shana suddenly gasped and squinted, gripping onto me for support, as a wave of sexual pleasure crashed over her. She had been trying so hard to keep her voice down and now she was losing the battle.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” she whined. “My boyfriend and I… we’re getting a little carried away.”
Mrs. Watson’s eyes flicked down to her daughter’s chest and the tell-tale outlines of her nipples. Her arousal was impossible to hide now.
“I see,” Mrs. Watson giggled. “My little girl just can’t help herself, can she?”
Shana squeaked as I inserted another finger. “Oh my god, I know. I’m sorry about the couch, Mom.”
“She started it,” I offered.
“Liar,” Shana said.
With one hand still planted firmly between my girlfriend’s legs, my other hand slid up her soft tummy and over the mounds of her breasts. I openly squeezed one of them in my hands and Shana gasped again. Her mother watched us intently, an indefinable expression written on her face.
“Oh god, yes,” Shana whimpered, turning to face me. Her eyes were half-lidded and desperate. “Daddy…”
Mrs. Watson cleared her throat. “Um, dear, I know you’re feeling really good right now. But think of the couch!”
Shana gulped. I withdrew my fingers and wiped them on her dress.
“Sorry, Mom,” she said.
“Yeah, real sorry, Mrs. Watson,” I said. “We can go to the bedroom if you want.”
The older woman shook her head, rolling her eyes. She looked like her daughter when she did that. “Nonsense, I’ll just grab a towel for you two.”
With that, she rose from her chair and disappeared into the hallway. She returned a moment later with a large, white bath towel and threw it at us.
“Aim for that!” she said, sitting back down in her chair. Her favorite show was on and she didn’t want to miss it. Nor did she want to part with her daughter, even at a moment like this.
There was no point in being shy about it anymore. I threw the blanket off of us, revealing Shana’s bare pussy, legs, and bottom. My girlfriend pulled her dress the rest of the way off and tossed it aside so that she sat before me in all her nakedness, her tits full and wanting. Her long, slender legs parted, revealing the swollen lips of her sex. Her eyes burned into me.
“Fuck me,” she said.
“Language, young lady!” her mom scolded her.
“Sorry, Mom.”
I pulled my belt free and tossed it aside before yanking off my jeans. My cock sprang out into the open air and Shana’s eyes were instantly glued to it. I couldn’t pretend to be shy anymore. I wanted her and I didn’t care who saw.
I pinned my girlfriend down on her back and rested her legs over each of my shoulders. She looked up at me in timid anticipation, her lips parted.
“Please,” she said.
“Please what?”
I ran my tip over the wetness of her slit.
“Please, Daddy,” she pleaded.
I plunged into her, forcing out a piercing wail. I thrust again, eliciting a moan. My pace quickened until I was slamming into her over and over again, ramming her pussy with animalistic need, plunging her depths. I wanted to hear her scream. I needed it.
“Oh my god!” she cried, turning to face her mother. “Sorry if this is too loud, Mom.”
Mrs. Watson sat ogling us from her chair. There was no pretense of watching the TV anymore. This was far more interesting.
“Wow, oh gosh,” the older woman sighed to herself, raising a hand to her mouth.
“He’s so good,” Shana whined. “It’s so deep.”
“I can see that, dear.”
I pulled out, flipped her over, and pulled her up to me so that her ass stuck up in the air. I plunged back in and slammed her hard from behind. Not every girl I’ve been with has liked it so hard and so fast, but Shana did. To her, sex was meant to be a loud, violent activity. I didn’t mind that at all.
“I hope I’m not distracting you two!” Mrs. Watson said with a nervous laugh. She shifted a little in her seat. She didn’t acknowledge it, but I think even she was taken aback at just how far this was going.
“Not at all,” I managed to say.
Shana’s face was buried in the couch cushion. She came up for air and turned to face her mother with a naughty and impish smile. “It’s okay, Mom. He likes it when you watch.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
Shana giggled lovingly and then her giggles broke into moans of ecstasy and surrender.
“He likes showing me off,” Shana said. “It turns him on.”
“I see,” said her mom. The older woman crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs together. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I caught her licking her lips.
I thrust down on her daughter and the room filled with wet, lewd squelching noises. Mrs. Watson could see the pink of her daughter’s pussy, smell the musk of her arousal, and hear the cries of pleasure she made with each ragged breath. It was beautiful. I smacked my girlfriend’s ass hard and she yelped. I spanked her again and she cursed under her breath, biting onto the blanket. My balls slapped her ass and Shana’s wetness drizzled in thin streaks down her legs.
“I hope I’m not intruding on your TV time,” I said, grinning at Mrs. Watson.
“Not at all, like I said,” she responded. “I don’t get to see my little girl very often.”
I paused my thrusting for a brief moment to catch my breath and ran my fingers up the valley of my girlfriend’s crotch, circling her clit with my index finger. She shuddered and her legs turned to jelly.
“Getting tired already?” Shana teased, looking over her shoulder at me with a devilish snicker.
I spanked her hard and she squealed. “Careful what you say.”
Mrs. Watson uncrossed her legs and recrossed them again the other way around. The shapely woman wore her favorite evening dress, the hem of which had hiked up over her knees and bunched up near her waist. Her cleavage was full and ample. I caught myself staring at it briefly and looked away.
“Hey Mom,” Shana laughed, “I think he likes your boobs.”
Her mother’s voice caught in her throat and she forced down a dry gulp, looking down at herself. “Ridiculous. Not when he’s got yours to look at.”
“Nah, I think he does. Look at him!”
I didn’t know what to say so I simply placed my hands on Shana’s firm ass cheeks, pushed her down flat on the couch, and prepared to enter her again. Her sex smell filled the room.
Shana giggled at her mother’s timidity. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m not jealous.”
Mrs. Watson glanced at me bashfully, forcing eye contact. “Well. I have to admit seeing a young man in action has got me feeling a little… nostalgic.”
“You mean horny,” said Shana.
This was getting a tad risky.
“Listen, I wouldn’t want to make things weird–” I began.
The two women looked at each other for a short moment and then burst into hard laughter.
“Yeah, unlike now?” Shana mused. “Nothing weird about this, huh?”
“Not for you,” I said.
“Fair enough. Hey Mom, you should show him your tits.”
I gulped involuntarily, turning to her mother with a cautious smirk. I tried to force out a fake laugh, but it wasn’t a joke. Shana was asking her mom to show me her tits. And as my eyes fell on the supple valley of her mother’s cleavage, so clean, so pure, I knew I just had to see them. My cock throbbed at the thought.
Mrs. Watson looked down at herself again and pretended to deliberate on this. “Oh honey, is that really appropriate?”
“It’s okay,” said Shana. “They’re just boobs, Mom.”
I flipped my girlfriend over onto her back again and slammed into her with newfound lust. Her mother was staring intensely at the place where my rigid penis was entering her daughter, pulling back, and slamming in again. She uncrossed her legs and let out a shaky sigh.
“Well alright,” said Mrs. Watson, “but let’s keep this between us, shall we?”
“Of course,” I assured her.
“We know the drill,” said Shana.
The older woman stood from her chair and I gazed openly at her fleshy bosom, even as I continued to fuck her daughter. Mrs. Watson’s eyes shone with excitement as she pushed the straps of her dress down from her shoulders, letting them fall, and lowered her dress down over her tits. Her full, motherly breasts came into view. They were encased in a lacy white bra. With a deep breath of anticipation, she unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor.
Her breasts spilled out generously, the aroused nipples chilly in the open room.
“Oh my god,” Shana squeaked, giggling, “he just got even harder. I think he likes it!”
“G-good, that’s nice to know, dear.”
Shana laughed again, then her face glazed over into that drowsy expression of lust she gets when the pleasure is unbearable and the orgasm is drawing near. She looked up at me, her hair falling around her face in dark blonde streaks. Her tits flopped which every thrust I took.
“I’m close, baby,” she hissed.
“I am too,” I said.
I tore my gaze away and made eye contact with her mother again, who stood transfixed mere feet from us. Her own tits were shaped much the same, just a little larger and fuller with age. Like mother like daughter, I suppose.
“Tell your mom what you are,” I said to Shana.
My girlfriend’s eyes were closed and squinting as I said this. They flicked open nervously, scanning my face to see if I meant it. “Really?”
I responded by choking her firmly, applying just the right amount of pressure. She groaned and her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Say it,” I demanded.
Shana turned to face her mom with my hand wrapped around her throat, pounding her into submission.
“I’m his slut, Mom,” she said.
For once, Mrs. Watson failed to chastise her daughter’s use of profanity. She gazed back into Shana’s eyes in stunned silence.
“He likes it when I call myself that,” Shana explained, laughing. “It helps him get off when I say I’m his slut.”
“Oh gosh,” Mrs. Watson breathed. Her embarrassment was palpable, but so was her fascination. It may have just been the sight of a young man’s naked body and hard dick that did it for her, but I like to think it had something with her daughter too. One can dream, anyway.
“Maybe you should give your daughter a kiss?” I suggested.
Mrs. Watson laughed timidly and waved it off. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
Not wanting to push it too far, I let it go. Having her there was enough. I gave my full attention to her daughter now, plunging in faster, speed-running the last stretch on my way toward release.
I felt my cum rising in my loins. I was ready.
“Where do you want it, Shana?” I grunted.
My girlfriend wailed and shuddered beneath me. “On my face, Daddy. I want it all over me.”
I pulled out. She sat up and eagerly positioned herself for me.
“OH FUCK!” I hollered, releasing a hot stream of white cum. It splattered onto her cheeks and dribbled down her chin, some of it dripping onto her shoulders, her chest, the tops of her breasts. For a second I thought I might pass out at the intensity of the release. She whimpered in encouragement with each drop that hit her flesh.
“Oh, wow,” I heard Mrs. Watson say.
When the last of it had drizzled out of me, I collapsed back onto the couch and Shana dared to open her eyes again, giggling sweetly. There she sat, her bare ass pressed into the couch, her legs still parted, hair disheveled. The damage was done now. Whatever normalcy may have existed before this night was gone forever.
Her mom snapped out of her trance after a long moment of silence.
“Um, well!” said Mrs. Watson. “That was awfully interesting. I think I better take a cold shower now.”
After a few deep breaths to regain her composure, Shana sat up on the couch and laughed, looking down at herself and the mess I had made. I handed her the towel and she wiped herself with it dutifully.
“See?” said Shana. “We didn’t mess up your couch.”
“You’re damn lucky,” said her mom.
The older woman pulled her dress back up and I sadly watched her breasts disappear. It was like that scene at the end of Casablanca where the guy watches his love interest fly away on that airplane. But like, if the airplane was her dress and the girl was my girlfriend’s mom’s tits. Ah hell, you know what I mean.
“I better throw that in the wash,” Mrs. Watson said, approaching us with an extended hand. Shana passed the cum-stained towel to her mom and, as she took it, leaned in to kiss her mother. It was a daughter’s kiss, a quick peck on the cheek, but it would be enough to keep me going for months. Mrs. Watson looked down at her daughter lovingly and planted a kiss of her own on her daughter’s cheek.
“I love you, sweetie,” Mrs. Watson said with great tenderness. “I always like having you visit.”
She rolled up the towel so it wouldn’t get her sticky and shook her head at us.
“And your young man there isn’t too bad either,” she added.
“You think he passed the Mom Test?” Shana asked, already knowing the answer.
Her mother nodded in amusement. “Oh, yes. I do think so. Now if you two don’t mind, I have to get changed and ready for bed. It’s nearly 10 o’clock, you know!”
“Oh,” said Shana, checking her watch. “I guess it is getting late.”
Mrs. Watson said her goodnight, we said ours, and the older woman filed up the staircase towards the washroom. The house fell quiet.
My girlfriend Shana fastened on her bra and ran a hand through her long, full hair, straightening out the sex-knots. We snuggled up on the couch and threw the blanket back over us, letting the monotone humdrum of the old TV soothe us into a pleasant afterglow.
“You evil man,” she purred with a smirk that felt uncharacteristically self-conscious. “I can’t believe we did all of that. I’m such a slut.”
I pulled her in close, resting her head on my shoulder, and kissed her forehead. “Your mom seems cool.”
She swatted my arm with a girlish giggle.
“Wow,” she said. “That was hot.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “And highly improbable.”
“Don’t say things like ‘highly improbable.’ Gives me the ick.”
“Whatever.”
That night we slept like the dead. That old house was beginning to feel like home to me. I couldn’t be sure, but in the deadness of the night, I thought I could just about make out the faint sounds of self-pleasure coming from Mrs. Watson’s room.
Family is everything.
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