Have you been having dirty thoughts about mommy...?
Have you been having dirty thoughts about mommy? That's okay, baby. Mommy wants to make your dreams come true... In this collection of four erotic shorts, mothers and their sons engage in secret affairs of passion.
Because YOU, THE READERS, demanded it, I’ve written four more tantalizingly taboo shorts about mothers falling hard for their sons (and sons falling even harder for their mommies :D). If mother/son erotica is what you crave, I think you’re really going to enjoy this latest offering. AND, even better, because we’re in the midst of Smashwords’ Summer Sale, this book will be available at 50% off thru July! So what are you waiting for, my dirty darlings? Help yourself to my forbidden fantasies...
Here’s a listing of the stories included:
- Pay for Play - Molly's son is a nice boy, but he's never been an attentive student. Ryan has so much potential that it breaks her heart to see it go to waste. Her friend Rita used to have the same problem with her son, but somehow she convinced him to change his lazy ways. She tells Molly there's only one reward powerful enough to sway a stubborn young man: Sex. Molly is shocked by this revelation, but she's willing to try anything to save her son's future...
- Stanley’s Mom Has Got It Going On - Sam is a horny young man with a naughty secret: he wants his voluptuous aunt. She's the woman of his dreams, but they're related by blood! Sam was sure that was the end of the story...until he discovered that Aunt Olive has a very "special" way of loving her son Stanley. To keep her nephew quiet, Olive will fulfill Sam's incestuous fantasy.
- Strangers in the Night - In this tale of genetic sexual attraction, Brad has spent his whole life looking for his birth mother. It wasn't easy, but he's finally tracked her down. He wanted to confront her, to ask why he was abandoned, but seeing her in the flesh elicits a strange and captivating arousal. She, too, feels a curious connection to this handsome stranger, a physical desire to be as close to him as possible...
- No Tell Motel - Anthony and his mother are leaving his sister's wedding when a bad storm forces them off the road. A little lost and very wet, the two decide to rent a room for the night. Still buzzed from the party and aroused by the seedy motel, mother and son begin to play into a silly fantasy: that Anthony has bought a prostitute for the night. As the rain falls around them and their lips meet for the first time, neither can stop pretending...
This bundle of erotic taboo is 26,000 words and available now on Smashwords for just $2! Now enjoy this excerpt from “No Tell Motel”:
She caught up with him at door number 9. The wood was chipped and dented and painted a grotesque mustard gray, but at least the awning extended to the parking lot. After what felt like years, they were finally out of the rain. By that time Susan was too cold to attack her son and collapsed into his arms. Her hair was a sopping mess, a thick tangle of dyed brown that she prayed did not run. Her blue dress was almost destroyed and barely clinging to her shivering body. Another minute and the weight of the water would bring it crashing to her ankles. "Don't look at my face," she moaned. "My makeup--"
Anthony squeezed his thumbs across her mascara-stained cheeks. She was so cold and wet that she whimpered like a child. "We do need to get you out of this," he muttered.
"D-don't tease," she stammered.
"I'm serious," he said. "You could catch hypothermia."
"So could you," she insisted. "Don't pretend you don't feel it."
When she pressed herself to Anthony, he felt every soft and curving angle of her mature body. "I do," he said quietly. His strong fingers kneaded the pale flesh of her arms.
"Mmm, that's nice," she murmured. "And that was so ridiculous, just now. She might call the police on us!"
Anthony scooped his mother's chin into his wet fingers. "Then you'll have to pretend you're just my drunk mother, and not some naughty, soaking slut."
Through her brown bangs, Susan stared into her son's dark eyes. He was joking, but the words sent a disturbing ripple down her belly. Uttered with such husky masculinity, she could not help her reaction. Anthony's father had a deep voice, too, and he knew just how to use it. The firm pinch of Anthony's fingers on her chin, the hard muscles under his wet suit, and his handsome resemblance to his father, they triggered a convulsion in her already excited womanhood. Her body went slack, her lips parted, and perhaps it was the alcohol that made her respond so boldly--or the long, long years since she'd been held, or spoken to, in that way. "You better open that door fast," she murmured. "You're on the clock and I've got places to be."
Anthony didn't think about what he did next. The blood was rushing to his groin, not his skull, and his mother was falling out of her dress. Their faces so close, she hardly looked like his mother, just a wet, wanting woman. He pulled her to him roughly and sealed her lips with his. She tasted of rain and champagne, sweat and sweetness. Immediately, her tongue touched his and went deep, deep into his mouth. Mother and son moaned beneath the motel awning.
Anthony crushed Susan's body to his large, unyielding frame. She sighed into his mouth as he wrapped her in his embrace. Neither was thinking clearly, but neither wanted to. To think meant a return to Earth, a banishment from this sudden, salacious fantasy they'd slipped into, and their frantic kisses and groping hands gave warmth to their frozen limbs, fuel to their frustrated libidos. Anthony spun his mother around and pounded her against the door, forcing her legs apart as he ground himself into the space between. His fingers slipped into the open slit of the dress, and Susan cried out. The sound was lost beneath the falling rain.
Anthony stabbed his key card at the door's rickety lock as he bucked his hips into his mother's soaked dress. She could feel his young cock, rock hard and insistent. Searching. "I...I don't know if you can afford me," she gasped.
"I don't give a damn," he grunted, and finally thrust the card home. "I'm going to take you, and I'll pay for it later." The door beeped and they tumbled inside the darkened motel room.
Like a diver coming up for air, Susan parted from her son with a gasp. She peeled the wet bangs from her lashes and tried to orient herself. She glimpsed a small bed, a crooked table, a lamp, all blanketed by the slithering shadows of rain. There was a bathroom, a cracked mirror, and a shower. A hot shower, that was what she needed--no, her inner voice warned her, a cold one. Very cold. She took a step in its direction but her heels sank into the age-worn carpet and she staggered. Anthony grabbed her by the hand and threw her to the bed.
"Oh!" she cried, as the rusty springs gave beneath her. The door cracked shut and shrouded them in darkness. The roar of rain was reduced to a watery hiss. And then Anthony was on top of her and peeling her wet dress over her tender breasts.
"Dear God," he moaned, and then she heard nothing but the pulse of her own heart. Her ears were pressed into the musty comforter, her neck arching, skull digging into the mattress. Anthony's lips were sealed tight around her pert, pink nipple and she was screaming, screaming, screaming like a whore. It wasn't his teeth that made her moan. Her nipple was near frozen, so hard that the pain of his bite gave her relief, not torment. His fingers sank into her clammy skin, so hot and so greedy, and her fingers twined through the wet curls of his hair. When he sucked her into his mouth, she hissed louder than the rain.