Mother's love their sons, some more than others. This collection of eight erotic short stories explore the lengths some horny mothers are willing to go to please their sons; willing to take their own under their collective wings and help them fly. Some mothers just can't wait to get started.
In the silence, I envisioned him staring at my panties. I was wet enough that, by now, they’d have absorbed at least some of my lubricant. Likely, though, they were soaked. Likely, they’d become transparent. Likely, he was staring at my inner lips, which have been playing peek-a-boo since I hit puberty. As subtly as I could, I squeezed my thighs together, which only made me shiver.
I shook my head, ignoring the amusement in his voice. “Have I worn your poor fingers out yet?”
I drew a breath, ready to ask him to do my back, when he took hold of my foot. I moaned, my toes curling, when he pushed his thumb into my arch.
As I reveled in his touch, my agile mind supplied me with the image of him straddling my thighs while he worked on my back. The image quickly transformed into him squeezing my ass, over and over, working his thumbs into the tender skin adjacent to my swollen vulva, pushing and pulling, driving me crazy. And then he was settling over me, his chest to my back, his thick cock laying in the valley between my cheeks, his heavy balls—
“Would you like me to do your back?”
“Anywhere you like, just... don’t ever stop.”
He laughed softly. “Somebody’s had a bit too much catnip.”
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