“I’m Your Mother,” She Said – {His mother offers herself as a trade.}

Another scene I had stashed away. Christian is hot for his mother’s sexy friend. Christian’s mother doesn’t approve. She offers herself as an alternative.

Could be typos and errors in the text because I don’t recall editing the scene. Apologies if errors do remain. I hope you enjoy it anyway. I’ve disabled voting and comments because I’m bored with the inane comments about how I coulda done this or that. And I’m fed up with trolling dickheads, too. This is just for fun and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

So, this is the scene.

Thanks for reading.

GA – Cambridge, UK – 15 May 2021

“You can’t ever tell.”

“I won’t,” I said.

“I mean it. We’ll both be in so much trouble if you do.”

“I know,” I told her.

“I’m not sure you do.”

We were still by the front door, just inside the house. She was standing and looking at me, thumbs in the waistband of her underwear. One shove and her knickers would be sliding down her thighs.

“I promise,” I said as anticipation squeezed my guts. I was so close to seeing her pussy. All I had to do was convince her I’d keep my mouth shut. “I mean it,” I added, wishing she’d just get on with it.

She sighed and held her lower lip between her teeth, staring at me for several torturous seconds with an expression of doubt on her face. “I want to but I’m not sure,” she said.

I gulped, desperation ballooning within. “Please,” I gasped.

“We can’t touch. We can’t do anything else.”

I heard how close she was to giving it up. It was in the tone of her voice as the uncertainty in her face shifted to something that told me she was about to agree.

“I know,” I said as I pawed at the front of my jeans. “I just want to look.”

“No getting carried away and trying to grab me,” she warned, stern and no-nonsense. “I know what men are like. They’ll say anything…”

“No, I won’t! I promise!”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied me for sincerity. It was something I’d known for as long as I could remember, a look from her like she was checking for lies. “You better not,” she said.

Then she said it again, muttering it to herself while, with a quick and shocking action, my own mother slid her knickers down to her knees.

A moment later, as I was gasping and the arousal pulsed through my cock, my mother reached back and unclasped her bra.

“I don’t fucking believe I’m doing this,” my mother said through a sigh. “If it weren’t for Bronwyn…” she added.

“Oh shit,” I said, the words coming out on a gurgle as I gawked at my mother’s bare breasts.

She was staring at me, boobs swaying a few moments after their unveiling, her underwear stretched tight between her knees. “Come on,” she said with a thrust of her chin. “Get it out. Get it over with.”

“You’re lovely,” I groaned.

There must have been something in the way I said it that affected my mother because she blinked a couple of times as her face softened.

“Come on, Christian,” she gently cajoled. “I’ve done it. This is what you wanted. Hurry up. We can’t stay like this forever.”

“I’d love it if we could,” I said without knowing I was going to utter the words.

“Stop mucking about,” my mother said as doubt clouded her eyes. “I feel silly. Embarrassed. This is wrong and we shouldn’t be like this together.”

The way she said it and the change in her face made me panic. I thought she was going to call it off. It seemed to me like she was going to pull her underwear up and cover the lush triangle of her thick, dark pubic bush, the thought of which sent me into a tizz. “No, please,” I said, blurting it out. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m your mother,” she said in a way which did nothing to calm my fears. “I shouldn’t be bare in front of you. Not like this. It’s perverted and dirty. I only agreed to let you see me so you’d stay away from Bronwyn.”

“I … I know,” I said through a gasp.

“So get on with it,” my mother snapped. She closed her eyes and posed, fists on her hips, frontage presented to me like she was enduring the pain and embarrassment. Like it was a sacrifice she was making for me.

In a rush I unzipped and snapped the button on my jeans. I shucked them to my knees, underwear going down at the same time.

Her eyes opened when I let out a moan. I was staring at her body, soaking up the detail of her feminine shape as I cranked my dick, my focus going from her bush to her large, round breasts and their prominent nipples.

“Bloody hell,” I heard my mother mutter.

“Mum,” I grunted as I looked at her face.

“You’re very excited,” my mother said, her attention down at my cock.

I worked my fist back and forth, tugging my dick as the sensations bubbled and the surge threatened to rise. “‘Cos you’re lovely,” I told her.

I saw the same softening in her expression I’d seen earlier when I’d said the same thing. “Do you mean that, Christian?” my mother breathed. “Do you really think I’m lovely?”

“Mum,” I grunted because I couldn’t say anything else. The feelings were on me and coherent thought was slipping away. All I could focus on as I wanked my size was my own mother’s ripe voluptuousness. She was superb, so gorgeous with her ash-blonde hair pinned up and her body exposed to my hungry stare.

“My God, are you going to come?”

My mother was gazing at me, face slack with whatever it was she was feeling as I used my hand against my cock. She glanced back at my face, something like wonder in her eyes while I grunted and snorted and let out a moan.

“Fucking hell, you’re going to cum!” my mother yelped. “Already,” she added, squeaking it out.

By then I was feeling the spasms as my cock spat cum. I groaned and let it all go. I gave up trying to hold it in. The need was too great, excitement too strong at the sight of my own mother’s lush pubic fur and her large swinging tits that there was no chance at all I could stop the sweet outrush of joy and thick, gooey ejaculate.

I heard my mother squeal my name when three or four more bursts of spunk flicked from my dick. The hot stuff kept squirting in an indiscriminate rain, globules glistening on the coir doormat while more of it spattered onto the wooden planks of the hallway floor.

“You’re making a mess!” my mother yelped. Stop cumming on the floor, you nasty little pig!”

I heard it but didn’t care. The delight was rushing through me. I was lost in the pleasure, purged of frustration and tension as the jizm burst from my cock.

The next logical thought I had was when my mother, with her big boobs jiggling, pushed me aside so I staggered and almost fell into the front door in a tangle of jeans, flailing limbs, and swaying erection.

“Dirty, nasty, fucking pig,” my mother was saying. She had her underwear off and was on her knees so she could dab at the spunk with her knickers. “I should have known,” she added, attention set on the task. “It better not be ruined. It better not stain the wood.”

“I’m sorry,” I gasped, a snotty thread of silvery cum dangling from my dick.

“Go. Get away from me,” my mother snapped. She glared at me from her position on the wooden flooring.

“But, mum–” I started.

“I said go,” my mother said through clenched teeth. “We did it. I let you. It’s over.”

She yelled at me when I tried to object. My mother stood up, underwear balled in her fist, magnificent in her nudity and anger as she pointed along the corridor towards the back of the house.

“No! Don’t try to talk to me!” my mother cried. “I’m appalled. I’m ashamed. I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong and filthy. I’m your mother, Christian. Don’t ever try to talk to me about what just happened. As far as I’m concerned, it didn’t. I’m going to forget about it. Those last few minutes are erased.”

As she let it all out, my mother was pushing my shoulder. I grabbed my jeans and hauled them up, holding them so I didn’t trip and go sprawling.

Then I was halfway up the stairs and wondering what had just happened, dread churning in the pit of my stomach.

“Mum, please,” I said after I paused.

“No, go away. Leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

“So am I,” I she said as she went for her cardigan.

“Please,” I said, close to crying.

“Leave me alone. Go away, Christian.”

“But I can’t leave it like this,” I said, pleading.

“You’ll have to. I don’t want to talk about it.” She had the cardigan on, loose and unbuttoned, gaping so I could still see her breasts jiggle and swing. My mother held her skirt against her body to hide her vulva. A pause and then, “I don’t even want to see you, Christian. Leave me alone. I need to think. I need to try to make sense of it.”

She shouted when moved down a couple of treads, the anger in it making me pause.

“I … I’m sorry,” I said.

Then I left her to it, fear and anxiety swirling inside me as I went to my bedroom, my head full of questions about how things would be between my mother and me in the future.


My mother’s friend Bronwyn was the catalyst. It had started when Bronwyn, a slim and attractive lady of 54 had made it plain she was open to sex with me. There was flirting between us, and even a couple of clandestine kisses where Bronwyn had squeezed my dick through my clothes, her tongue in my mouth while she’d squirmed and pressed her lithe, athletic body against me. I would have fucked her, too. I was 19 and hot for my mother’s friend, eager to get at her pussy. Where my mother is generously proportioned, Bronwyn was trim. She had tiny boobs and fantastic legs. Her bottom was shaped like a peach, an inverted heart which she pointed at me, inviting me to touch as she smirked and crinkled her nose at me. Thing is, my mother caught us in a clinch. We were snogging in the kitchen, my hands all over Bronwyn’s backside, her supreme derriere encased in denim jeans moulded tight to those globes. My mother spat venom, ire in her face and tone as she all but threw Bronwyn out of the house before she scolded me for my impetuous stupidly.

“That woman’s a slut,” my mother raged. “She’ll break your heart. You stay away from her, Christian. I’m telling you now.”

I tried, I really did, but the lure of mature pussy was too tempting to resist. I was going to fuck Bronwyn despite my mother’s warnings and threats.

“No, you’re not going,” my mother said when she caught me leaving the house.

“I’m not going to Bronwyn’s,” I lied.

“Yes you are,” my mother said as she stood between me and the door.

That’s when the anger got me. I yelled at her for trying and stop me doing what I wanted to do. I was nineteen, grown-up. Bronwyn was divorced. What business was it of my mother’s?

“You don’t know her like I do,” my mother said. “Trust me, Christian. Just stay away from her.”

We argued some more until my mother said, “What can I do to make you keep away from Bronwyn?”

Old feelings bubbled up, clandestine sensations I’d suppressed. I looked at my mother’s generous frontage, her big boobs inside her red, button-front cardigan. “Show me your tits and I’ll wank off instead,” I said.

The shock in her eyes was instant. My mother gasped, eyes huge and round as her mouth fell slack. It was a ridiculous, awful thing to say, and truth be told I hadn’t meant to say it. I was sexual need at the promise of Bronwyn’s pussy that brought the words out. I was as shocked as my mother, appalled at what I’d blurted as we gawked at each other.

Then, in the weirdest, most surreal experience of my life so far, my mother closed her mouth, her gaze on my face while time slowed and seemed to stretch elastic. My mother’s head canted towards one shoulder, her expression suddenly feline, her stare holding my gaze.

“If that’s what it takes,” my mother eventually whispered.

I gawked, boggling because I couldn’t believe what she’d said. “What?” I gasped.

My mother’s jaw clenched and a determined look shone in her eyes. She nodded a couple of times in a quick, decisive way. “I said, if that’s what it takes.”

I gulped as sensations swirled in the neverplace deeper than the pit of my stomach. Disbelief and a curious, near overwhelming rush of sexual arousal stirred within. “You don’t mean it,” I said, half-choked on the words.

“Oh I do, Christian,” my mother said through a strange grin. “You want to see me that way? Okay. All right. Let’s do it. Right now.”

I felt like my eyes were going to pop from their orbits as I gawked at my mother when he unbuttoned her cardigan and revealed tit-flesh spilling over her bra.

“Tell you what, I’ll just get naked,” my mother said in what sounded like a challenge. “Not just my tits. How about that? Would that make you happy? Would that keep you from Bronwyn?”

She unzipped her skirt and let it fall, her actions determined and full of purpose.

“Well, will it?” my mother asked as she stepped out of her skirt.

“Mum, what…?” I gasped.

She sneered at me, thumbs in the waist of her underwear. “What’s the matter? Don’t think I’ll do it?”

“Wuh-will you?” I said, gurgling in shock.

Which is when she paused and looked at me, doubt in her face. “I will,” my mother murmured. We stared at each other for a few seconds and then: “You can’t ever tell.”

“I won’t,” I said.

“I mean it. We’ll both be in so much trouble if you do.”

“I know,” I told her.

“I’m not sure you do.”

And only a short time later I’d gawked at my own mother’s nudity and let the cum spatter onto the mat and wooden floor.

Two tormented hours later my mother knocked at my bedroom door.

“I’m sorry,” she said, timid, eyes downcast.

I’d been lying on my bed, head full of worry when my mother had knocked. “It’s all right,” I said because they seemed the right words.

My mother took a tentative step closer to the bed. She glanced at my face, expression tense while she held her towelling robe tight at the lapels. She asked, “Can I come in?”

I nodded, sitting up.

My mother moved closer. “Did you mean it?” she asked.

“Mean what?”

Her eyes came up to my face again. “What you said … About me being lovely.”

Emotion clogged my throat for a couple of seconds when I saw the vulnerability in my mother’s face.

“Yeah,” I managed to croak.

“You don’t think I’m fat?”

She was looking at some point between her feet and where I was on the bed, voice low and full of uncertainty.

“No,” I said. “Not at all.”

She looked up to me again. “Well, I am a little bit podgy.”

“You’re still lovely,” I said as excitement swirled in my stomach.

“But you like Bronwyn, and she’s so fit.”

“It’s different,” I said.

“I liked it,” my mother said.

Confused by her change of tack, I frowned and asked, “Liked it? Liked what?”

My mother rolled her eyes as she scoffed and said, “What do you think, silly?”

The excitement ballooned as I dared to hope. “You mean…?”

My mother nodded, suddenly shy. “Yes, what happened. What we did. What I saw.”

“I liked it too,” I said, half-choked with what I was feeling.

When my mother looked at me again, I saw something sly and clandestine in her face. Then, after a pause, she smirked. “We could do it again,” she said in what was barely a whisper.

I gulped, swallowing down on everything rising inside me. The universe shrunk and reality condensed. There was nothing out beyond the bedroom walls. It was just me and my mother.

I nodded and sucked in air.

“Now,” my mother said.

I let out a sigh when my mother let the robe whisper down her back as it parachuted to the floor.


I was standing next to the bed. I was naked, my own mother bare and beautiful as she lay on her back, shoulders propped by my pillows.

“That’s it, wank it, Christian,” my mother moaned. “Show me.”

“I wanna touch you,” I told her, consumed with desire for her body.

“God, we shouldn’t,” my mother gasped.

“Why not? We’re already doing stuff we shouldn’t be doing.”

I was tugging my dick, eyes moving over my mother’s body as she rubbed at her vulva.

“You’re doing that, I’m doing this,” I added, thrusting my hard-on at her.

“If I let you touch me I’m afraid it won’t stop there,” my mother said. “You’ll ask to put it inside me. I know you will.”

“I want to,” I said, almost choking on the desire swelling my throat.

“Oh, god, Christian,” my mother moaned. She closed her eyes, boobs jiggling while her fingers moved over her sex. “I know. I want to, too.”

“So let’s just do it,” I groaned.

“Do you know what you’re saying? Do you have any idea what it means?”

I didn’t reply with words. What I did was keep working at my dick as I curled in low and sucked on nipple between my lips. My mother gasped and, after her muscles tensed for a few moments, she let out a moan and gently eased my face away from her breasts.

“Suck my tits,” my mother growled after a pause. Her eyes flashed fire and devilment. Then she grinned at me and offered the other breast. “Go on, suck my tits. I want you to do it.”

My mother squeaked and giggled when I clambered onto the bed.

“Oh, mm, yes, my darling boy,” she sighed when I snuffled and snorted around a mouthful of breast-flesh. “We’re going to do it. I want you to fuck me.”

I came away from my mother’s boobs so I could look at her face. She was smiling at me, love in her expression. “I know, I said we shouldn’t but I so want to feel you inside me. Just this once. Just one night. I know it’ll change things between us forever, and I don’t really have a clue if I’m honest. The thing is, I love you and I want it to happen. I don’t care about tomorrow. I don’t care how I might feel. It might be — well, it probably is a huge mistake,” my mother said on a sigh and shrug. “But right now, here with you, I just want to be loved.”

I stared at my mother, awed by the enormity of the moment. I let go of my cock, lust altered to feelings of tender emotion as I slowly leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. There was a brief hesitation from both of us until my mother’s lips parted and I felt her tongue slide into my mouth.

Then it went crazy. It was chaos, both of us snorting and gasping, hands moving over skin as I groped for all the soft flesh I could find. I was up on my knees, my tongue swirling and writhing with hers as my mother’s fingers found my cock.

“Your dad was a big boy,” my mother gasped into my open mouth. “Looks like you inherited the gene,” she went on with a lewd chuckle.

With lust swelling inside me, I groaned out a crude, “I’m going to smash you with it.”

“God, Christian,” my mother squealed, “don’t be so rude. I don’t believe you could say that to me.”

Wild with it, I ignored the rebuke. “I want to fuck you,” I growled as I mauled my mother’s breasts. “I just want to put it in. I want to fuck you. These big tits … I couldn’t believe it when I saw your hairy cunt.”

I would never have used that word if the rush wasn’t such a force inside me. By then I was losing control. I was wild with need and desire.

“Oh God. Oh fuck. I don’t believe what I’m doing,” my mother groaned. “I don’t believe I’m listening to you say those things.”

“I love you,” I sobbed my hands full of my mother’s body.

“Then show me,” she said, a hand cranking my cock. “Don’t just stick it in and start fucking. Don’t just bang at me, my darling. Take it slow at first. Love me. Let’s take our time. Let’s make it special.”

The way she said it took the heat out of my need. I stopped squeezing and groping, my mind full of wonder at what might happen between me and my mother.

Stunned, I stared down at my other’s face. “Can I do it? I mean, are we going to…?”

She took her lower lip between her teeth while looking up at me. Then my mother nodded and murmured, “If that’s what you want. As long as it’s love and not just … not just fucking,” she finished.

The emotion ballooned again. “It … it’s love,” I breathed.

“Then come here and let’s make love.”

We were gazing at one another as she shifted around and I moved to kneel between her thighs.

“All right, so, take your time. Don’t just go galloping off.”

I was over her body, resting on one straight arm while I caressed my mother’s breasts and she held my root.

“Uh-huh. Okay,” I said.

“Look at my face,” my mother insisted. “I want to watch you.”

I swallowed hard when, as I gazed at my mother’s prettiness, she held the bulb against her body.

“Oh God, Christian,” my mother murmured. “You’re my son. What are we doing?”

“Loving,” I muttered, knowing it was exactly the word to use.

My mother closed her eyes for a moment, slowly nodding as her throat worked.

“This is it,” my mother whispered. “If I let you go we can never take it back. Once you’re inside me…”

“I know,” I said with the barest nudge at her sex.

“Easy,” my mother cautioned. “Slow. Love me. Let it go in and then I want you … Oh my God,” she gurgled as I moved and I felt the molten embrace.

I was hallway in, half of my length inside my own mother’s body as I looked down and saw her labia accommodating my length, her thick pubic bush surrounding her vulva.

She grunted when I eased all of it in.

“Don’t move. Just let me feel you,” my mother sighed.

“It’s really inside you,” I gasped, looking at her face.

“Oh, I know, that’s quite some girth,” my mother said with a quick nod. “Jesus, darling,” she went on, glancing down to our conjunction. “Don’t move. Not yet. Just stay there a little bit, won’t you.”

“I … I love you,” I breathed, awed by the enormity of being inside my own mother.

“This is us loving together,” my mother replied. Then she started to move, slowly shifting her rump so her pussy slid over my cock. “God. Fuck,” my mother added, groaning when she took my length inside again. “Kiss me,” she urged, eyes on my face. “Like you love me. Kiss me as if I was your girlfriend.”

“You are my girlfriend,” I moaned on a rush of tender emotion.

Then we were kissing, the feelings passing between us.


We kissed and loved for several slow, long, and very beautiful minutes. Sometimes I was up on straight arms, my focus on where my mother’s body was taking my cock. I moved slowly, gently easing in and out on an easy glide. She was wet, her desire slick on my shaft, my mother’s pubic bush matted and damp with our combined need and arousal. Other moments I was down with my weight on my elbows, kissing my mother like a lover instead of a son. We murmured endearments and stared at each other, loving with our eyes while the sensations swirled inside me and my mother’s pussy squeezed my dick.

Then it started t get more heated. The actions grew more robust and my mother’s hips shunted back and forth, her fingers on my shoulders, her legs folded at the knees.

“Uh-huh, yes,” my mother urged, nodding at me. “Faster. That’s it. Use your size. I want you to fuck me.”

“God, mum,” I moaned when she started to work against me.

“Fuck me. Use me,” my mother growled. “That’s it. Go on, my darling. You can go as hard as you like. I want you to do it. Fuck me like you’d fuck Bronwyn. Show me how you’d do it to her.”

That set me off. I stared at my mother for a second, thrilled by what I saw in her face and what she was saying.

Lust flared hotter and I was suddenly feral and wild with need to pound my mother’s cunt.

“Your big tits,” I sobbed when I watched my mother’s breasts roll and jiggle.

“Big tits and wobbly bottom,” my mother replied as she thrust up to meet me on the downstroke. “Fuck me and make my boobs roll. Next I want it in doggy. I want you from behind. I want you to hold my hips and spank my arse.”

When she said it, I was fucking into her body like I was smashing her pubic bone to dust. My mother was gasping and moaning, pelvis working while I went at her with robust, vigorous strokes. I groaned and she squealed, both of us snorting. She stared at me with a wild expression which seemed close to hatred, an intensity of feeling in my mother’s eyes which told me she was loving what I was doing.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I groaned as our bodies slap-thwacked together. “I love you. I love you so much. Mum, fuck, I never want this to end.”

As I sobbed it out, my mother fucked against my thrusting. “Fuck me,” she snarled. “Don’t you stop. Just keep on fucking. Oh, darling!” she cried, a hand down at her sex. “Please, just keep doing it exactly like that. Don’t stop. Don’t slow down. Just keep going. I’m going to cum. Oh, Christian, my lovely big boy. Keep going. I’ll cum. Please, don’t stop. I’ll cum. Mummy’s going to cum!”

It took another full minute or more of hard work from me while my mother diddled her clit and she eventually grunted.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” my mother grunted, wall-eyed as the spasms began.

I saw her face and knew she was there, that action the trigger for my own release.

“Mum,” I gurgled, going in deep. “Mum, I love you.”

And then I emptied what I had into my mother.


A week later, after some deep discussions and a couple of surprises, I went into Bronwyn up to my balls. She was on her back, on my mother’s bed, slim and shapely legs spread as she offered her cunt, her lips around one of my mother’s nipples, snuffling against tit-flesh as I started to fuck.

“My two favourite people,” my mother grinned when I looked at her face. “My lovers,” she added, ducking in to kiss my mouth.