One Teen, One Mom, Three Aunts and a Cousin

My parents picked me up on the way to the wedding, which was a three-hour drive (five for them as I was at a college two hours north) and they figured we may as well take only one vehicle. Plus, with first semester finals done, I would return with them back home for Christmas break.

Which was perfect for me as I was in college and perpetually broke. We even decided to share a hotel room, which may seem weird, but we were a pretty close family and sharing a room with two queen sized beds wasn’t really a big deal. We’d done the same a couple years ago when we took our east coast road trip.

Plus, I really enjoyed spending time with my parents who were still quite young… and truthfully wilder than I was (they still had parties at their house and did the weed I didn’t).

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They also were still very sexual towards each other… both in front of me and in the bedroom. I jerked off many times listening to them fuck… my Mom very animated, vulgar and loud in the throes of passion. Or at least I assumed they still were, they certainly had been while I was still at home and in high school.

This was only enhanced by the fact that although my Mom was pretty plain (no one ever called her a MILF), she had big breasts and amazing legs which were almost always encased in nylons… like they were right now… she was already dressed for the wedding even though it was a five-hour drive… a wedding just a week before Christmas… which seemed rather stupid to me, but whatever.

She was also the sweetest woman in the world. She was actually a stay at home mom, unheard of these days, as Dad made excessively good money and thus she did things like chair the PTA and organize the graduation ceremony.

I should also note we had both seen each other naked… although not at the same time….

In my senior year I’d come home early from a party on a Friday night not feeling well (not drunk, the flu) and when I walked in Mom was in the kitchen, completely naked except for a garter-belt and stockings, getting a drink of water.

I stared at her body for a good ten seconds before she turned around and realized I was there and dropped her glass (only into the sink and fortunately it was plastic) as she covered her breasts and vagina as best she could, crying out my name, “Wade!”

I explained, “Sorry, I came home early because I wasn’t feeling well.”

I quickly left the kitchen, my cock hard and my mind carrying away an image that’s still imprinted in my head.

I worried about what she would say the next morning, but she acted like it was no big deal and life moved on.

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I, on the other hand, had a new recurring fantasy… one where things had gone very differently that wonderful evening when I’d walked into the kitchen and encountered my nearly-nude mother with her voluptuous, touchable breasts with their large, deep red, hard nipples and her slender figure, round hips and glistening, hairless pussy beckoning me to look more closely. (As you can see, my fantasy always began larger than life, and there was no way my hot fantasy mother was going to cover anything up!)

This was a fantasy I’d carried with me when I went to college and I’d shot hundreds of loads, recreating my memory in a variety of ways.

-She turns around, sees me, walks over, drops to her knees, fishes out my cock and sucks me.

-I walk up behind her, cup her big breasts from behind as she moans, ‘Ready for seconds already, Eric?’ (Eric is my father’s name). and I respond, ‘Sloppy seconds’ and slide my cock in her from behind and she gasps, ‘Oh yes, Wade,’ as I penetrate her

-I walk over to her, spin her around, guide her to her knees and shove my cock in her shocked open mouth and hold her head in place as I face fuck her.

-I walk up behind her and surprise her by simply sliding my cock in her pussy. This fantasy goes either of two ways: 1) where she discovers it’s me and joins in eagerly liking the idea, or 2) where she is shocked and tries to stop me until I dominate her and then she still joins in eagerly but this time calling me Master… this version coming to mind because I’ve heard her get dominated by Dad many times when I eavesdropped.

Of course, in all of these versions of the fantasy I magically begin with pants and underwear or not, whichever works best in the scenario.

And that was what I was fantasizing about a few months later during reading break before finals when I came home for the week, imagining fucking my naked Mom in the kitchen one way or another, when my real live Mom walked in on me.

I was on my bed, jerking off while watching porn on the laptop, an incest scene where a son fucks his mother, when she walked into my room.

She froze and stammered, even as she stared at the eight-inch cock I was pumping, “S-s-sorry.”

To my surprise she didn’t turn and leave immediately, lingering for a few seconds before scurrying out.

Mom walking in on me was all it took as I came like a racehorse, envisioning a new fantasy where Mom hurries over to me and finishes me off, today with me coming all over her face but tomorrow who knows… as I now had two fantasies I could create variations on in my head.

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I cleaned myself up and went to the kitchen to grab a snack, jerking off making me hungry for some reason, and she apologized, “I’m so sorry, Wade.”

I joked, “Well, now we’re even.”

She blushed as she said, “I should have knocked, I was just coming to get your laundry.”

Yep, I was eighteen and Mommy still did my laundry. Pathetic, but it had just always been that way.

I couldn’t help it, as I joked like Dad would (Dad often teasing Mom about me seeing her naked, as he thought it was hilarious), “And I was just coming, too.”

“Wade!” she gasped, even as I noticed, or I thought I noticed, her glancing down at my crotch.

“What? I’m eighteen. I masturbate,” I defended, and then added, “A lot.”

She shook her head as she repeated, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s no big deal,” I shrugged.

She responded, “Au contraire, it is indeed a big deal.”

Although her words implied she was still mortified by walking in on me, her tone implied something else entirely.

She was talking about the generous size of my cock being a big deal… at least I was pretty sure she was talking about my cock.

I was so stunned I was speechless as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving me bewildered and horny again.

That was the last time I’d seen Mom until today, although I’d seen her daily in my stroke fantasies and even usually when I was fucking my friend with benefits Janie.

That brings you up to date about what led to our drive to the wedding and everything that followed.

The day was full of subtle hints that I didn’t catch onto until it all came to a head in the early evening.

As we drove, Dad asked, “Got any hot coeds?”

“Eric!” Mom scolded.

“What?” Dad asked. “Can’t I enquire if he’s getting some hot college booty?”

I laughed, “Never say booty, Dad.”

“What, I’m not up with the lingo?” he asked, then continued, “Have you given a girl a Cincinnati Bowtie yet?”

“Eric!” Mom gasped.

“What? You love it, dear,” Dad teased.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Eric, don’t you dare!” Mom objected, clearly mortified.

“When you reverse tit fuck a nice rack so your balls are sliding up and down her neck,” he revealed.

“Oh,” I said, the position sounding okay, but more focused on the idea of Mom liking it… the idea of Dad or me fucking those huge tits quite a turn on.

“I don’t like it, you do,” Mom clarified.

“You never complain,” Dad shrugged.

“Probably too much information for our son,” Mom pointed out, her face apple red.

I added, “Not sure where you got that term, but college is pretty normal.”

“What, it’s not a bunch of orgies?” Dad joked.

“No not really, we only have those on weekends, but of course weekends begin on Friday at noon,” I whimsically played along.

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“Thank God,” he said, “I’d hate to think I’m paying for you to go to college and learn things.”

Mom asked, “Do you have a girlfriend yet?”

“Not really,” I answered, Janie and I never going out dates. I call her when I’m horny, she calls me when she’s horny… which means we fuck every day or two.

“Friends with benefits,” Dad accurately surmised.

“Something like that,” I nodded.

“What’s that?” Mom asked.

Dad answered, “A friend you can call on for sex.”

Mom joked, “As much as your Dad’s gone, I need one of those.”

“If you want Sarah, go for it,” Dad responded, Sarah a hot young woman from across the street.

“You and your lesbian fantasy,” Mom sighed.

Dad asked, “Please tell me you’ve seen two girls going at it.”

“Nope,” I said, before adding, “other than some kissing.”

“Well, porn movies have definitely deceived me,” Dad joked.

“Wanting to gross Dad out, knowing he was homophobic, I added, telling the truth, “I did see a guy blowing another guy in the bathroom, though.”

“Gross,” Dad said, his entire face grimacing.

Mom asked, “What, two girls munching pussy is okay, but a guy sucking another guy’s dick isn’t?”

“Obviously,” Dad nodded. “Two girls are hot; two guys are contrary to nature.”

I was in awe of Mom saying pussy and dick in front of me. I’d heard her say way worse when eavesdropping… but she was pretty prim and proper when I was around… usually tolerating my perverted father’s verbal excesses but not joining in.

“Such a double standard,” Mom said.

“It’s just the way the universe works,” Dad shrugged.

“Well I totally disagree. I’d rather watch a guy blow or fuck another guy than see two girls eating twat,” Mom added, playing around and enjoying turning it on her husband.

“Gross, gross, gross,” Dad said, actually shaking his head.

Mom continued, “What? You wouldn’t let Dave suck your cock? I hear guys are far better cock suckers than we gals.”

I was shocked (in a good way, in an awe-struck way) by Mom’s blatant sex talk. Hearing her say cock sucker was so fucking hot! Dave, by the way, was an openly gay man who lived down the street from us.

“Fuck, no!” Dad declared firmly.

Mom continued, “Why? A mouth is a mouth, and Dave’s mouth would know what to do with your little man far better than mine does. I don’t even have a cock, so how am I supposed to know what to do with yours?” She was really laying it on thick, knowing full well about Dad’s homophobic buttons and joyfully hammering every one of them. Both Mom and I were working extremely hard to contain our laughter.

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