Inspired by a foreign short story, author’s own adaptations.
CHAPTER I: CONFESSION
I’m a loser.
When I was eighteen, I became a real heartbreaker. Girls were my weakness. My vice. Otherwise I was relatively cool, a normal guy, but when I tried to pick up a girl, the worst sides of my personality came out. I’m sure I’m not the only one who behaved differently in the presence of the opposite sex, so please don’t hold it against me. Most of the time I didn’t even have to do anything to make girls fall in love with me.
It was almost funny. All I had to do was put on nice clothes, smile, make a girl laugh, and that was it. Hit the spot. I felt a little guilty that it was so easy for me, while the other guys struggled with it. I wasn’t trying to be popular or a school idol or anything like that. I wasn’t actively trying to be. My natural personality just worked for girls. It certainly didn’t hurt that nature had given me an above-average penis, at least that I had the opportunity to compare in our school showers.
I loved the chase. The chase. I loved girls who made me try a little harder. Girls who didn’t give up so quickly. They were always the most satisfying to be with. Girls with low self-esteem who jumped into bed with me just because they were afraid of disappointing me meant nothing to me.
But the girls who made me try knew exactly what they were doing, and when they finally gave in, they were damn perverted and lustful. These girls were the best of the best. Unfortunately, the level of sociopathy that allowed them to play with men did not allow for a long-term relationship. But that didn’t bother me. I was always looking for another challenge. I was always looking for bigger booty.
I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself as you read this – what a loser? What a tragic life he must have, a smart, charming, popular, muscular high school senior with a big dick, dangling girls while they wait. Poor guy.
But it was true. I tried to live like any other guy, hanging out with friends and having fun, but honestly, it was starting to get a little boring. And besides, I was never really happy with any of the girls I dated, for one reason or another. I liked them all on the surface, but for the most part, none of them were that interesting to me.
Of course, there were a few exceptions, but there was no real challenge. And I lived for challenges. Even the girls who gave me a little bit of a hard time weren’t that hard to get with my charm and body. But… most importantly of all, none of them were anything like the woman I really wanted.
The woman who dominated my fantasy.
To be clear, I am not the star of this story. Compared to her, my struggle with being too popular with girls was boring. I play my part in this story, but this story is about her. Her name is Tanya, but I never call her anything other than “Mom.”
To say she was pretty would be a gross understatement. To say she was beautiful would be equally disrespectful. She was simply stunning, stunning, breathtaking, mouth-watering, incredibly gorgeous. She was literally one of the most attractive women. Honestly, I have never seen a woman more beautiful than her, and that was my mom!
She had black hair that she changed up her style often. She had olive skin and managed to maintain a healthy tan all year round. Her skin was silky and soft, you only had to see a bit of her bare skin and you wanted to stroke it. Her face was exotic and she looked breathtakingly beautiful. Full, soft, pouty lips, sensual eyes. She did not look like your typical elegant forty-year-old mother. She had the face of a mature sex goddess, a face that clearly showed that she was an older woman, but also a face that all other women her age would kill for. Her face defined her. Experienced, yet youthful. Perfectly mature. She looked ten years younger. But her face was only the beginning of the whole package.
She had much more prominent features. To be honest, my mom had huge breasts. Huge breasts! Each one was as big as my head. It was impossible not to notice those basketballs that bounced around in her bra wherever she moved. I was once looking at her bra and when I saw the tag that said “34FF,” my knees shook. And from the way her breasts overflowed from whatever she was wearing, I would say she might have been a size up. They didn’t hang at all. Not at all. They rose proudly on her chest, incredibly firm, supple… and round… and smooth, soft to the touch… and squeezable. And they sat exactly as they were supposed to, creating absolute cleavage in whatever she was wearing. I loved the sight of her oversized hunk pressing together. Her nipples looked like they were always hard because they showed through every shirt she wore. It was like she was constantly horny. It was like those nipples were literally begging to be sucked.
There was no way I could live to be eighteen with her in the house and not become a breast lover. But the torture was that I had the most beautiful breasts I had ever seen at my fingertips and I couldn’t touch them. She had the most beautiful breasts I had ever seen, even though I had never seen them naked, at least not since I could remember. It was torture.
But enough about my mother’s breasts. Most women would be happy with an incredibly beautiful face and huge breasts. But not her. Her stomach was flat and sexy, the result of yoga and regular exercise. Her legs were long and firm, capable of driving any leg lover crazy. And her ass… damn! Her ass was extraordinary. It had everything you could want in an ass. It was firm. It was round. It was heart-shaped. Each half was perfectly ripe. My mom was perfect in every way. No matter what kind of guy you were… she had what you wanted.
Some beautiful women are just bodies and have no personality. My mom was different. She was fun. She was a good mother without being authoritarian. She gave me enough freedom to live my own life while also keeping an eye on me. And she was very laid-back. She was one of those people who never got surprised by anything. Nothing could faze her. She was so smart that she had an answer for everything. She was also an unabashed flirt. She was one of those women who made everything she said sound sexy. Every word she said, every little movement she made, was just perfectly sexy. Her veiled voice made everything she said a sensual seduction. Her hips swayed as she walked. Her breasts bobbed with every step. She moved smoothly, without unnecessary movements. She exuded sex. She was a pure, unadulterated, walking, talking sex bomb.
If it wasn’t clear yet, I wanted to fuck her so badly. One look at her and compare her to the girls at school was enough to make it clear that there was no comparison at all. I prided myself on being very good at picking up girls. But I only hunted cubs. My mom was a lioness. She was in a whole other stratosphere. If I were a big game hunter, my mom would be my main prey, my unrivaled White Whale.
She was perfect and I wanted her. I wanted her body. I wanted her beautiful face. Her long legs. Her tanned, smooth skin. Her round ass. Her tight pussy. Her huge breasts. She was a walking wet dream for a young horny boy. The fact that she was my mom eventually became secondary. Like me, she was probably the subject of lewd fantasies for most of the other men in town. But unfortunately for them, she was a given.
I should probably mention my dad. Part of me wished I could say he was an asshole, and I wanted to get even with him by having her all to myself. But that wasn’t the case. Dad was a good guy. He used to be a football player, so we had common interests. He was still good looking, even though he wasn’t as fit as he used to be, and he was still very much in love with Mom. He and Mom met in college and got married soon after. He was a sales rep for a pretty big private company, making a decent amount of money, so Mom could stay home and not have to worry about work. But Dad was constantly traveling, making a lot of money, and keeping Mom and me cooped up at home.
So that’s how it was, an extremely provocative mother, her horny son with a big penis, and a dad who was never home. I know it sounds exaggerated, like some embarrassing erotic story, but it’s true. Judging by some of the stories I’ve read, for example on eFenix, our connection was inevitable.
*
My mom had been in my fantasies since I was a teenager. And it felt so damn good. I imagined myself squeezing her breasts. I imagined myself shoving my dick into her from behind. In my fantasies, I would do all the disgusting things I could think of with my mom. I thought it was just a phase. Every guy has it. That after a while I would get over it and have healthier fantasies about girls my age. But that just didn’t happen.
Every time she came near me, I got an erection. Once I got it together, the first thing I felt was shame. I shouldn’t have an erection because of my mom. I tried to put her out of my mind and fantasize about the girls in class, but I always ended up thinking about my mom when I got hard. I felt like a pervert. I mean… it was disgusting. It was incest.
I could probably get over it if I wasn’t around her all the time. Having to watch her sexy ass and huge tits swing around the house, watching her look gorgeous in whatever she wore. As I gained weight, grew taller, gained muscle, and grew a nice thick cock that pleased any pussy, I still found myself stroking and thinking about her day after day. My fantasies became more and more disgusting as my tastes evolved, and my cumshots got bigger and bigger.
I imagined fucking my mom between the tits. I imagined my mom choking on my fat cock. I imagined shoving my fat cock up her tight ass. It was disgusting, but it felt so fucking good. I can’t count how many times I got hard just imagining it. I realized this wasn’t just a phase. This wasn’t just a fantasy. If the opportunity presented itself, I would do it. I would fuck my mom. I didn’t care if it was incest. She was too hot for me to care.
I couldn’t get her out of my head, no matter how many teenage pussies I had. She was the one I wanted. She was the one my body craved. I was entering my senior year of high school, and my crush on my own mother showed no signs of abating.
I was obsessed with her.
*
So you see why I’m a loser?
I’ve been able to get a lot of high school girls into bed, but I’ve never been able to really enjoy it. Imagine how excruciating it would be if every time you fucked a girl you couldn’t stop seeing your mom instead. Imagine fucking an eighteen year old girl with perfect threesomes and not being satisfied because they’re not as big as your mother’s tits. Luckily my mother was super hot and seeing her instead of those girls wasn’t unpleasant, but it was still a harrowing thought. I wouldn’t wish that kind of mental torture on my worst enemy.
I don’t think she knew what she was doing to me. She couldn’t have known how much she was torturing me. Like I said, she was a great mom. She just acted like a flirt. That’s how she acted with all men, so I knew it wasn’t unusual when she flirted very subtly in my presence. And she was clearly aware of her body, because she showed it off at every opportunity. She loved sunbathing by the pool and wore sexy bikinis all the time. Nothing inappropriate, unfortunately, but it was hard not to show off with her. I had to watch her and my dad make out in front of me, and the jealousy was driving me crazy. I was living with a guy who was working the object of my desire. I was a crazy mix of emotions.
I looked fine on the outside, but no one could see how confused I was inside. I wanted to fuck my own mom! It was crazy, and the worst part was that I didn’t even care that it was my mom anymore. I was completely at peace with it. In fact, it made me more excited.
It was clear that something had to happen. I couldn’t just… do nothing. I had to do something. I had to let her know what I wanted. I was going to college in a year, and if I didn’t try, it would never happen. I needed closure. I couldn’t live with the uncertainty of whether I had a chance or not.
Do you think I have a chance with her? Of course I do! I don’t want to brag too much, but I was a fit, eighteen-year-old stud with a big, fat penis. That’s what all women want, right? In my experience, that was usually enough to get me with girls. Mom always seemed to be constantly aroused. I had the impression that I could give her what she wanted. I arrogantly had no doubt that my almost-long, fat penis would do the trick. But she probably wouldn’t mind me being her son…
I was wondering how to confess. I had to look cool and confident. Women love confidence. I was pretty good with girls, so I was hoping my tactics would work on my mom. She had gotten me to spread my legs with a bunch of high school girls, so the same tricks should work on a sexy MILF goddess like my mom, right? My dad was leaving for a month-long business trip in a few days, so I figured this was the perfect opportunity for me. Then I could have a month full of sex with my insanely hot mom.
*
The day before my dad left, I decided to give it a try. I hadn’t slept the night before. All I could think about was what I was going to say to her. How could I convince my own mom to break up with you? I backed out of my plan a few times, but the pros outweighed the cons. Sure, if she said no, I would be terribly embarrassed. But if she said yes, I could finally put my fat cock inside her.
She had been out running errands most of the day, and when she got home, I sat on my bed in my room waiting. Dad was still at work, so we were alone. I stared at the floor until I felt her presence in the doorway, and then I looked up at her.
“Hi, how are you, honey?” she said in her muffled voice. God, she was so sexy. She was wearing tight jeans and a pink blouse that hugged her ample breasts, revealing their shape to my prying eyes. As usual, her hard nipples were clearly visible. If I had any doubts about what I was about to do, this outfit dispelled them. I swallowed deeply and continued with my plan.
“ Can you sit up?” I asked, patting the bed next to me.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in question. I wasn’t usually this serious, so it was no wonder she was a little concerned. As she sat down next to me, I watched her breasts bob in place before settling on my springy bed. Her light perfume filled my nostrils. God, that scent always made me boil. I sighed deeply and began to speak.
“ Mom, I have something to confess to you,” I began. She looked a little worried.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Oh, uh, nothing,” I said with a fake laugh. She was looking straight at me, which made me nervous. I looked away. I stood up and wiped my forehead. I was out of my depth. I had never been so nervous around a girl. But this wasn’t a girl. This was a real woman. This was my mother.
“ Well, here’s the thing…” I began. I looked up at her face and she smiled encouragingly at me. “I… well… I’ve had a secret for the last few years. I’ve been afraid to tell you, but I can’t take it anymore…”
“Are you gay?” she asked with a giggle. She knew I wasn’t gay, and even if I was, she wouldn’t have a problem with it. She was just trying to ease the tension.
“No. No, nothing like that,” I said. “Here’s the thing. I’ve been in love with someone for years. I’ve tried to hide it, but I can’t keep it up anymore. I’m in love…” I looked her straight in the eye. “You.”
And that was it. I said it. I told my sexy mom that I was in love with her. I watched her reaction, hoping to see some sign of agreement. I wanted to see how shocked she would be by this disgusting confession. She just stared into my eyes for a few agonizing seconds, trying to comprehend what I had just said. Finally, she looked around the room and then at me. I waited impatiently for her answer.
“In love, huh?” she said. “Is it because of my boobs?” she asked, looking down, directing my gaze to her well-rounded breasts.
“W-what?” I stammered nervously.
“Well, you’re clearly not in love with my personality. You’re in love with me because I have really big boobs,” my mom said.
“Well, it’s not just that…” I said.
“So is it my ass? Or my legs? Or my flat stomach?” she asked coquettishly.
“It’s… it’s all of that,” I replied, trying to be cool. She smiled.
“So it’s not love. It’s lust,” Mom said.
“I guess so,” I replied.
“So… you think I’m sexy?” Mom asked innocently, her hair falling into her eyes. God, she looked sexy without even trying.
“Yes!” I said emphatically. She smiled.
“So if you had the chance, would you… fuck me?” she asked. Hearing her talk like that made my heart race.
“Yes!” I said desperately.
“ Sit down,” she said, patting the bed next to her. I obeyed. There was a long pause before she broke the silence.
“Okay, let’s get something straight first. We’re not having sex. Do you understand? That’s not happening. Never,” Mom said with a laugh. She ripped out my heart, crumpled it up, and threw it in the trash. I nodded, turned away, and looked at my feet. She noticed my disappointment.
“Come on, Tom, what did you expect?” Mom said. “Did you really expect me to take off my clothes right there and beg you to fuck me?” she said, amused.
I just looked at her, which was my answer.
” Tom, I’ll tell you again. This will never happen. Do you understand?”
“I understand!” I said angrily.
“ Listen. One: you’re my son. It’s bad. It’s disgusting. It’s so… lewd,” she said breathlessly. It was amazing. Her voice was so breathy and raspy. She said the words slowly, passionately. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was flirting. And she sounded so excited. It sounded like the disgustingness I was saying was turning her on. But maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. Still, when Mom told me she would never fuck me, it was the most exciting thing I’d ever heard, just because of the way she said it. For a second
, a new hope filled me. “Second: I’m happily married. Third: you’re just a boy,” Mom said, looking at me, quickly dashing my new hope. It was like she was a goddess and I was a mere mortal. As if I didn’t even deserve the right to be considered her sexual partner.
“ I’m a man. I’m eighteen,” I said defiantly.
“And what kind of experience do you really have?” Mom asked.
“A lot more than you think,” I said, looking her straight in the eye. Maybe if she knew I wasn’t some innocent, naive boy, she might consider it.
“Really?” she said with a laugh. “So you’re some incredible male, huh? Well, that changes everything,” she said sarcastically. “Tell me about it! Tell your mom about all the amazing adventures you’ve had.”
“ I, uh, I’ve been with a few girls in my class… and a few older girls in recent years.” I stammered.
“Well, um, well. That didn’t impress me, honey. It’s not hard to screw high school chicks,” she replied. “That’s not the mark of a great, powerful male. It’s the mark of a boy with no self-control who just tastes everything he can get his hands on. The mark of a real male is the number of girls he could have had but chose not to have. A real male picks his battles. You’re just a boy, honey.” Mom finished and knocked me hard to my knees.
“ Okay, I get it,” I said sheepishly.
“Listen, I get it. I know I’m sexy. Like really sexy. I was hoping you’d be able to ignore it, but apparently you couldn’t. That’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. When I say you’re a guy, I don’t mean your experience. You’re young. Very young. And the world is big. You’ve been locked away with me for years, which is probably why you feel this way. Honey, you’re going to college soon and then you’re going to go on your own journey in life, and when you do, you’re going to meet some girl your own age and you’re going to forget about me completely,” she said.
“I’ve felt this way for years. It’s not going to go away,” I said. She took a deep breath. For a second, I hoped she would at least give me sex out of pity.
“Forget it. I know I’m sexy. I know I’m attractive. But this…” she said, gesturing to her body, “is taboo. You can’t see what’s up my skirt. You’re my son. Grown sons shouldn’t want to see their mother naked. Listen, I know this sounds harsh, but you’ll get over it.”
I looked down at the floor and she patted my back lovingly.
“Are you going to tell Dad?” I croaked.
“No. It’s going to stay between us. You’re embarrassed enough as it is,” she said with a laugh. “If you ever want to talk about it, it’s okay, I’ll be here for you. But I repeat, it’s not going to happen,” Mom said. I nodded. She leaned over and kissed my forehead.
“I’m going to cook dinner. Come when you’re ready,” she said and stood up. “I love you,” she added, looking at me.
“I love you too,” I said sincerely. She left the room, leaving me alone.
I was in shock. It wasn’t going to happen. I was never going to sleep with my mom. I was trapped in the presence of a goddess with an incredible body and I was never going to get her. I couldn’t even look at her treasures. Never. I wanted to hide in a hole and die. I felt so embarrassed and ashamed. I didn’t know how to show myself to my mom again.
So I told my mom I wanted to fuck her. If it had stayed that way, I probably would have gotten over it, mostly because of the shame I felt. But then something happened that determined the future of our relationship. Something happened that changed everything between us.
I looked up and saw that Mom was standing in the doorway again. She raised her hand and leaned against the door. Her shirt had rolled up, revealing part of her sexy stomach. I looked at her breasts, as I usually did, and I noticed that her nipples were hard as a rock, harder than ever before.
” One more thing,” she said in a flirtatious tone and with a smile, biting her lip lightly. “I guess it’s best that it doesn’t happen. Because the truth is…” she said, pausing dramatically.
“You couldn’t handle me,” she said, cupping her breasts in her hands and squeezing them tightly as she licked her lips, then turned and danced away, her bottom swaying with every step.
I stood there with my mouth open and my cock throbbing. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. My mom was flirting with me openly. She was teasing me sexually. I pulled down my pants, took my hard cock in my hand, and jerked it violently with the door open, thinking of my mother. Within thirty seconds I was done and collapsed on the bed. As I caught my breath, her sexy voice rang in my ears.
“You couldn’t handle me.”
