Creampie A drunk mother

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“Is that my bottle of white?” I asked with a hint of interrogating tone in my voice as my motherly instincts kicked in.

“Yeah,” David said as he took another long swallow. “I got to say it was a bit vinegary at first but I believe I’m developing a taste for it.”

My anger flared at my underage son brazenly drinking in front me. I snatched at the bottle of booze he was drinking. Unfortunately, the darkness coupled with my drunkenness caused me to lose my footing and tumble back into my son’s embrace.

“If you wanted a taste so bad you only needed to ask,” my son sarcastically stated.

I pushed my head up out of his taught muscular chest. When I looked up my face was only inches from his. My eyes were finally adjusting to the dark to make out his chiseled jaw line. “Are you okay?” I asked as I noticed David appeared to have been crying.

David scowl was evident in the darkened room. “Fine,” he spat out harshly.

Concerned I sat up in his lap and took his face in my hands. “David Curtis don’t you lie to me.”

David turned his face away. He brought the bottle of wine to his lips and downed the last of its contents before tossing the empty container away. “Laura broke up with me.”

“Uhh, that skank,” I said enraged that any girl would toss aside a fine man like my David.

“She’s not a skank, mom,” David protested.

“If she broke up with my handsome son she is in my book,” I replied. “What happened?”

“Long story short, She wanted to go all the way, and I froze,” David said; his voice dropping to a nearly inaudible whisper as it was choked away by the humiliation he felt.

“Oh honey,” I cooed in the same tone I would use to comfort a lover who had experienced trouble in the bedroom. “Sometimes it happens to guys. You’re young; Laura is a hottie, you probably just got too excited. If she can’t be more understanding, then you’re better off.”

“Yeah, if this were the first time I would agree with you,” David said lowering his head in shame.

“Oh,” I replied completely shocked. Then thanks to the alcohol I forgot I was a mother talking with her son. “What seems to be the problem.”

“Me, I guess,” David said with desperation. “We’ve tried a few times before. And it starts out terrible from the get go. She says I kiss like my lips are numb, I’m too awkward with my hands, and when the time comes, I’m so out of it I give up. It doesn’t help that I can’t get her to give me any feedback on what she would like me to do.”

“Oh baby,” I said absent-mindedly running my fingers through my son’s thick luscious hair. “I think you are too hard on yourself. The woman has some responsibilities in this as well.”

“I doubt I am,” David rejoined. “If I weren’t Laura would still be here. It also doesn’t help that we don’t like many of the same things. She told me the other day my tastes were more in line with what her mom liked to do than her.”

I was feeling absolutely abysmal for my son. I’m not certain what came over me. Maybe it was because it was late, and I had drunk way too much alcohol. Possibly, it was because I had a burning need to prove him wrong. Or perhaps I was just damned determined not to let that blonde haired trollop destroy his confidence. Whatever the reason the fact of the situation was I passionately kissed David on the lips.

Taken by surprise my son did not offer any resistance. Much as he had described David remained passive. His mouth was slightly open, and when I snaked my tongue inside he did not attempt to interfere but neither did he engage.

After a few moments, I broke the one-sided embrace. “You’re going to have to do more than that if you want me to diagnose your problem. Or is Laura right and that is how you kiss?”

David opened his mouth like he was going to say something but then closed it and looked down too ashamed to return my gaze.

I should have let it go, but I had needs as well. I had planned on going all the way with the handsome stranger I had spent the last week messaging over Tindr. Now here I was drunk, horny, and sitting in the lap of a boy I absolutely loved. It didn’t hurt that he kept in such good shape that he was practically cut out of granite. I reached up took his chin in my hand and pulled up his face parallel to mine. “I love you David let me help.”

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