Mommy’s Need A Big Dicked Son

Walking in on my husband fucking his much younger secretary had gotten my pussy as dry as the Sahara Desert.

I now hated men.

I’d lost interest in sex.


The only thing that made it worse was I’d made my discovery while I was dressed in sexy lingerie and a trench coat because I’d decided to surprise him, since he’d been working late nights trying to close a big deal. I’d stripped off the coat, flung open his office door and cried out, “Surprise!” Well, it had most certainly been a surprise for all concerned.

That was eight months ago.

I’d given my husband the boot, and the judge had awarded me the house and car. Our two kids were old enough they didn’t need to be awarded to anyone, and they both pledged all their love and support to me, the sweethearts.

But my pussy had remained a desert.




Living, metaphorically, in a desert.

So I continued working as a nurse, now picking up every shift I possibly could, both because I was now the only breadwinner, and also to fill up my days and nights with activity instead of moping around.

I’d put a security system in my home for a few reasons:

1. I was about to be living alone, my just graduated from college daughter Eleanor spending the summer in Europe, and my son Jason had just done his first year of college (although he was home for the summer and thus my empty nest syndrome wouldn’t come in and kill me to the core until late August).

2. The home would be empty a lot with my working more and no kids at home.

3. There’d been an increase in break-ins in the area during the last year with the downturn in the economy.

4. It lowered my home insurance enough that now it was only a nineteen dollar per month cost.

So I had hidden cameras in most rooms of the house except for the bathrooms and the kids’ bedrooms. A burglar can’t spray-paint a camera he can’t detect.

Today I was on my break at the hospital and figured I’d check out my new system; it had been installed last month, but until last night I hadn’t figured out how to use the app.

In no way did I intend to spy on my son… although what I witnessed shocked me to the core. He was in my bedroom, naked, stroking his cock using one of my nylons and appeared to be talking to someone while his laptop was open (assumedly to porn, but the screen was facing away from the camera).

I stared in shock.

Realizing I was watching my son jerk off, I quickly exited from the app. After a moment though, I decided to check on him again with the idea that I needed to see if he was talking to someone. It was one thing to masturbate at home, even on your mother’s bed, but quite another to invite someone over for sex.

Sex stories:   Converting the Bangladeshi Bitch. CHAPTER 2 : The Humiliation of Tasnova

I grabbed my ear buds from my purse and went to the washroom.

I sat on the toilet, put my earbuds in and pulled the app back up.

My son was still on my bed, still jerking himself off, but what I heard next was way more shocking than seeing him masturbating with one of my nylons on my bed.

“That’s it, Mom, suck my dick,” he groaned, his eyes closed. There was no stranger in my house, he was pretending to have sex with ME!

I let out a loud gasp at such inappropriate words from my mild-mannered son… the inappropriate words being about me. In a way, he was inviting his Mother over for sex.

“Oh yes, beg for it, Mommy-slut,” he moaned, furiously beating his meat.


I couldn’t believe what I was hearing… yet instead of closing the app and confronting him over his foul language and inappropriate declarations about me when I got home, I kept watching and listening, which included, for the first time since he was ten, taking a better look at my son’s cock.

His damn big cock. Or at least it seemed pretty damn big on my small phone screen.

Shit, clearly I needed to get laid if my son’s cock was fascinating me… and, oh my God.

My eyes went wide as he grunted, “Get ready for my load, Mommy cum bucket.”

Okay, now I definitely was spying on my son. Perving, even. Riveted to the screen, I watched in voyeuristic awe, unable to tear my eyes away from his cock. I knew it was wrong, but I was visually paralyzed and to make matters worse, my pussy was on fire. Before I knew it, my hand was under my dress, happy I’d worn thigh highs today like I often did (my secret rebellion against a hospital dress code requiring pantyhose) and rubbed my pussy, suddenly needy and begging for attention, over my wet panties.

“You want my cum, don’t you, you cum-hungry Mommy-slut?” he asked, as if expecting an answer in the affirmative.

I automatically whispered “Yes,” then was mortified to hear what I’d just said.

Yet truth was, I’d always loved sucking cock, loved swallowing cum, even loved taking warm loads on my face… it was part of my natural submissive persona that only a few of my previous lovers knew about. But in a relationship with a partner who was open to being dominant, I was a very obedient girlfriend or later, wife. I’d sucked cock in a number of kinky taboo places including:

-taxis (twice) and an uber once, just a few months before my husband’s betrayal

-at my future mother-in-law’s house in the kitchen under their table while he chatted with both his parents (thank God for a long tablecloth that hid me completely)

Sex stories:   He had three mothers, and he had all three

-in a few different locations in my high school and in college (including the Dean’s office accepting a wild dare)

-and the wildest: while hiding inside a church podium up on the dais as my boyfriend at the time, the son of the Minister, preached sexual blasphemy (such as ‘Honour your father and mother with your dick in their mouths’) to empty pews as I bobbed on his cock. This nasty act was even hotter since across the hallway was occurring a Christmas dinner feeding the homeless.

It wasn’t my son’s cock I wanted specifically… clearly, I just needed a cock.


I was furiously rubbing myself, staring at his hand stroking his cock, imagining myself eagerly obeying every nasty command emerging from his mouth.

“Oh yes, Mommy looks so good with my big cock in her mouth,” he groaned, as I envisioned being on my knees devouring that big cock.

“Or maybe Mommy prefers it in her tight cunt,” he said, hearing him say cunt somehow more shocking than all his other shocking words.

“Oh yes,” I moaned, my own orgasm imminent. Fuck, I needed that cock inside me. I mean… a cock inside me.

“Want to be my Mommy-slut?” he asked.

“Yes, yes,” I moaned a little too loud as my orgasm was about to erupt.

Then in a crazy moment of serendipity, we both came at the same time, he oblivious to the special mother-son moment we were sharing, as I came just as he grunted, “Take my load, Mommy,” before massive bullets of cum shot up in the air.

I collapsed back onto the toilet and allowed the orgasm, my most intense on my own that I could remember, to course through me.

I just sat there for a couple of minutes, trying to regain some energy after my epic orgasm before opening my eyes and seeing that he was putting my stocking and its presumably clean mate in my laundry hamper. He’d obviously thought his subterfuge through, so this probably wasn’t the first time.

I shook my head, now mortified at what I’d just done.

I’d watched my son masturbate.

I’d gotten turned on watching him masturbate.

I’d masturbated watching him masturbate.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Yet as I stood up feeling excessive wetness I smirked, thinking… my barren desert finally got some rain.

I washed my face and hands, sure couldn’t be dealing with patients with pussy scent on my fingers, and I returned for the last four hours of my shift… which were crazy hectic but allowed me to push my sick sin out of my head.

My day done, I did what I did every day when my shift was done since Jason had returned home, I texted him: Be home soon.

He responded a moment later: Great. I’ll start supper.

I smiled at his thoughtfulness; this was the Jason I knew: caring and thoughtful… a Momma’s boy in the best sense… not a mother fucker.

Sex stories:   Sisters gift for birthday – 6

Oh, fuck… what a nasty term.

As I typed him a response, his big cock popped into my head. I shook my head as if my memory were an Etch-a-Sketch I could erase (wouldn’t it be nice if we could get rid of unwanted memories that easily?) and I responded, trying to believe the words I was typing: Thanks, honey. You’re such a good son.

Now what should I do?

Confront him?

Then he’d know I was spying on him.

Scold him?

What would that do but humiliate him?

How would I even bring it up?

‘Hey, honey, I saw you jerking off on my bed with my stocking and calling me nasty slut names’.

The only thing more confounding than my son’s fantasy of using me as his slut was the way my pussy was once again undeniably wet as I replayed in my head what I’d witnessed earlier.


Sure, I hadn’t had sex in months, not even an orgasm… I’d literally stopped having any desire for sexual pleasure.

And truthfully, I hadn’t missed it.

I mean my husband had seldom gotten me off even before we were married. He didn’t go down on me ever, the way I came best and most intensely (I learned that in college from a very eager pussy pleasing boyfriend, as well as during a few lesbian encounters where I both gave and received oral pleasure), since hubby thought it was disgusting and unsanitary… of course he didn’t see it that way when he wanted me to give head.

He had a decent six-inch cock that could get me revved up, but his lack of stamina usually meant he was done long before I was.

On the other hand, although maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, Jason’s cock seemed bigger than his dad’s.

A lot bigger.



And man, did he shoot buckets.

Although I looked pretty prim and proper, I loved sucking cock… and unlike many girls… I loved cum.

I loved its salty taste.

I loved its sticky, slippery texture.

I loved the feeling as it glided down my throat.

I loved its warmth as it splattered on my face.

I loved rubbing cum all over my face, having read somewhere that cum helped a woman’s complexion, and for years I’d lived by that theory. Upon reflection, my complexion hadn’t been as pure recently, and although I thought it was from stress and lack of sleep from all my double shifts, maybe my face was just missing its homemade whipped cream.

I shook my head after slamming on the brakes at the last moment for a red light. What was happening to me? I see just one cock, and suddenly I’m horny as fuck. Worse… the cock I’m focussing on is my son’s.


I managed to concentrate on the road for the last couple of minutes driving home and pulled into the driveway.

Pages: First -1 - 2 - 3 - ... - Next → - Last