My Son is NOT Gay!

*ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+*

I am not a bad mother.

I work a phenomenally comfortable office job, I love my husband, I packed my children lunch every single morning before work and then cooked a family dinner seven nights a week when I got home. Everything I do, I do for this family.

So it strikes me as odd that God would punish me by making my youngest son so... different. And yes, that is the word I am choosing to use. Bullies at school use words like "queer, dork, virgin, and loser". The other moms in my walking club use words like "special, touched, girly" and yes, "different."

I personally love the word for its neutrality. My son is not queer, he's not stupid, he's not touched, he's just... different. It's his damn dad's fault for naming him Maxwell. I objected with every argument, tantrum, and blowjob that I could muster, but the name prevailed. I had successfully named the two older children, Veronica and Harrison. My mother named me Julia and my husband's name is Nick. All good family names. We Cunninghams are a good family. But the name Maxwell always hit my ears wrong and it seems that dissonance has manifested in my youngest.

Maxwell is definitely weird. He's not into any sports, he never goes out to parties, he refuses my pleas to buy him new clothes, and his voice never quite dropped. But still, I will never admit to Max being anything more than "different."

On one fateful Sunday afternoon, my son tried to narrow the term. We were all relaxing after church having just eaten lunch and dreading the coming work week. My eldest children had just left to head home to their respectice local apartments. Nick and I sit on our bed watching the Bachlorette. The man swears on his own mother that he hates the show but I have never seen anyone more invested in a single rose. We both drearily began to slip into our weekly Sunday nap when Maxwell slowly approached the doorframe.

"Mom?" he asked, "Is dad asleep?"

I mentally groaned, not wanting to take on another of the boy's anxious rambles about school or friends. I tilt my head to my other side and see his father snoring. He opens one eye and smirks at me as he continues the facade. Damn liar.

"Yes baby, he's asleep. Why?"

"Can we-umm... can we talk?" Max sheepishly asks.

I nod my head reluctantly and rouse myself from the haze of a nap I was just beginning to slip into. I get off the bed and slip on my pair of pajama pants and house slippers. Damn it I was so cozy!

Max nervously leads me into the living room, out of his father's earshot from the bedroom. Whatever this is, it must be big. Too big to handle on such a casual Sunday. Too big for me to handle. But I'm a mom, handling big things on a whim is everyday sidework.

Max motions for me to sit on the couch before clearing his throat. "Ok-umm Mom? I have something to admit..." he looks down at his feet.

I snicker a little, "Sweetie what is it? Why are you so nervous? Did burn a cigarette hole in the carpet? Get a girl pregnant?" I almost let out a howling laugh at my own last question.

Maxwell blushes. "N-no... not exactly. Listen have you maybe ever wondered why people make fun of me all of the time?"

I smile at him warmly, thinking I see through his anxiety. "No honey bunch, I don't wonder. People are mean. You're just unique is all. It's nothing to be so worried about-"

He stops me before I finish my sentence. "It's not that mom. I know I'm unique but I'm... I'm also... I'm..."

I look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm gay."

The color rushes from my face and I let out a slight gasp. An instant wave of nausea overwhelms my senses as I touch a hand to my temple for a moment and close my eyes. I can feel Maxwell waiting for my answer.

Gay? How could he be gay? What did I do as a mother to deserve this? Even if he is actually gay, why the hell would he want to come out?! We are a steadily Christian family and popular faces in the community. Bake sales, school fundraisers, festivals, the Cunninghams are avid participants. This community might turn their noses up at different but it outright scoffs at gay. We would never be able to show our faces again.

"M-max... baby.." I stutter, "You are not gay. You have never been gay. What made you say this?"

I can feel his piercing glare as his brow begins to furrow. "Mom I AM gay! I knew I was different from other guys my age years and years ago but I eventually realized it was because I am not attracted to girls. I'm gay!"

I look at him wide eyed now, prepared to dispute this as far as I must. "No no that can't be true Max. What about your girlfriend a few years ago? Were you gay back then too?"

He groans and rolls his eyes. "Mom... she was a lesbian, we were just covering for each other at a time when bullies were spreading rumors at school. I swear to you, I'm gay."

I rub my temples deeply and truly. "Ok Max... well you can't just be gay, alright? I'm sorry baby but that's not how it works around here. I'll have to talk to your father about this..."

He doesn't even argue. Instead he gives the sassiest sigh of annoyance I have ever heard and stomps up to his bedroom before slamming the door as hard as his thin arms and weak muscles can muster. Christ, maybe he really is gay.

----------

"He can't be gay Julia, he had a girlfriend," my husband echoes.

"He says she was a cover! That they were both gay and just pretended to like one another for a few months!"

We both stand in front of our bed with the door closed, afraid to face the rest of the house which contains our plagued son. I press on, "Nick, what are we gonna do?"

"I don't know," he sighs, throwing up his hands before collapsing back on the bed, "Where did the Roberts' send their daughter all those years ago? Remember? She tried to come out to her youth group at church and they sent her away for a few weeks."

"Conversion therapy," I remember, "They sent her to a camp where she had to pray the gay away. Only there was no praying and I remember she came back with a nose piercing."

"Think of the horror," Nick solemnly replies.

"Plus, they spent thousands of dollars. I know we're comfortable but the roof is leaking, we're going with your parents to Aruba next month, and we just put a payment down on that condo in St. Petersburg. We can't afford conversion therapy."

My husband turns his head towards me. "Well... what the hell are we supposed to do? Kick him out?"

I shake my head. Kicking him out would leave a whole different kind of mark on our family name. A gay Cunningham is shun worthy but an exiled Cunningham would mean wholesale excommunication. Plus, I love my son. He's weird and annoying and far too sassy for his own good, but I would die for him. It wouldn't matter if he was gay or criminal or mentally insane, Max came out of me, and a piece of my heart is always with him.

Nick sighs, also realizing exile is a forbidden option. "Well, what should we do Julia?"

"Just... just let me think about it. Don't mention anything about this to him, I don't want to rouse any more spirits of rebellion from him. He might dye his hair or get a stick and poke tattoo. I'm gonna get started on dinner. We'll talk more about this later."

My husband reluctantly agrees and tries to lie back down in bed, attempting to lose himself in the television but clearly, painfully toiling with the new revelations about our youngest son. I head to the kitchen to robotically begin prepping for dinner. Beef roast, vegetable medley, buttered bread.... gay. How the fuck is he gay?

----------

I think as I work across the kitchen.

What makes someone gay? Max would say he was born this way. My pastor would say something about blue-haired liberals. The truth might be somewhere in between. My two oldest children had slightly different childhoods than their little brother. They watched cable television, didn't get phones until they were in high school, and played with lots and lots of toys. Max never did. We went streaming only while he was a toddler. He never cared much for toys like his siblings did and we broke down and got him a cellphone early in life after he begged and begged. Maybe Max just missed out on some crucial piece of social developement?

I mean sure, I don't deny the existence of gay people. I'm not some cooky woman posting on facebook and making appeals to the republican party. I just don't think my son is one of them. He can be saved. Not by prayer in some expensive camp but by a new type of social developement. Maybe I can set him up on a dating app or bribe one of the mom's in my walking group to set up a blind date. Though Max would refuse at every turn. I would never be able to get him to take the step on his own. Maybe...

No. That was a stupid thought. I am a stupid mom.

I look at myself in the hallway mirror. Julia Cunningham is a hot mom. I once heard that line from my older son's bedroom one afternoon when he had his friends over. It creeped me out at first, but then it gave me confidence. I keep my yellow-blonde hair healthy and well shaped. It tumbles just past my shoulders in slight, organized waves. I pull down my sleep shirt a little, showing the first hint of my supple cleavage. Supple is probably too slight a word. My tits are heavy and perfectly round. I know this because more than once my husband has ejaculated early by sucking on my small nipples as he strokes himself. He calls them milkers, that fucking goofball. I turn in the mirror and back up slightly, looking over my shoulder. The ass that hangs from my wide hips is the queen's jewel atop my crown. Thicker than a bowl of oatmeal. My ass is fat, and not in a dumpy, lost-myself-in-a-can-of-pringles kind of way. My ass is fat in the works-out-five-days-a-week-and-eats-her-spinach kind of way. Nick once called it a "cum dumpster". He slept on the couch for three days after that. We had to tell the kids it was for his lower back pain. My long legs cascade to the wooden floor. I'm only 5'9" but some of the other moms still call me stretch armstrong behind my back.

I approach the mirror again and lean in close. The slender features of my face. My plump, nude colored lips. My wide brown doe eyes. I really am a hot mom.

Max would never agree to go out and meet a female date but I'm his mom, by nature he is forced to face me every single day. Am I fucking crazy? I can't be thinking about this...

But why not? It would be cheaper than conversion therapy after all. I convince myself that it won't even take much. Simply laying on the bed with a mom as hot as I am will be enough to shake this little rebellious phase from him. On the off chance that it doesn't work, I'll show him the first and most perfect pair of tits he's ever seen and that will surely seal the deal.

I set the roast on the oven to cook over the next hour and then take a deep breath.

----------

I knock on my son's bedroom door. "Max? Sweetie can we talk?"

Nick was asleep in bed again, passed out from the exauhstion of worry, I figure. I was able to sneak in and take my underwear off in our bedroom before slipping back into my comfortable pajama shirt and pants. It'll be easier this way.

Max opens the door slowly. His eyes are red from tears. My heart breaks slightly. "What do you want mom? Come to get on to me again?"

I try and smile as warmly as I can. "No baby, I just want to talk, I promise. Can I come in?"

He doesn't reply, but slinks back into his room to sit on the twin sized bed. I follow behind him and close the door as subtly as I can. Here goes nothing. I sit on the bed beside him and rub his back slowly as his eyes zone out into the empty wall.

"I am so sorry for my reaction earlier baby. It was just... shocking to me is all. You know how big of a deal this could be."

He rolls his eyes and speaks more candidly, "I knooowww mom. I know it's a big deal. You think I wanted to come out? You think I want to be gay? No. I get bullied every single day. This shit sucks."

"Language."

He groans. "... sorry. Look I tried to fix it. I watched these Christian youtube videos to convert myself. I spoke to the school counselor. Nothing has worked mom. Nothing."

I nod slowly and pause for a second before replying, "What if... we try something new?"

I wait for his reaction. He slowly tilts his head towards me, "What do you mean?"

"I mean... you've never actually been close to a woman's body before. Maybe some closeness would do the trick."

"Ewwww mom no!"

"Hey relax honey I'm not talking about anything crazy. Just, here lie back with me." I position myself back on his twin bed with my head on the far right side of his pillow. He pauses a long moment and looks off to the distance before lying down beside me. I roll over, my braless tits falling towards him as I wrap my arms around his head. Max is easily a head and a half shorter than I am. Perfect height for my plan.

He turns his body towards me and submits as I pull him into my braless tits over my shirt. His face is muffled by my supple curves. I toss one of my legs over his and pull our groins to one another. It's awkward and I fear he can feel my heart beat like a drum in my chest but we press on for the next few minutes. Embarassingly, I use the edge of thigh to check him. Flacid. Damn it.

"Max?" I ask, "Does this feel alright to you?"

He stammers for a moment, "It-it's nice mom but it's not... I can't be attracted to my own mother."

The hell he can't. If this is the only way for me to retain the life I live then I'll be his own damn Anne Hathaway. Or maybe Sydney Sweeney is more accurate for his generation. I rub his back a little before pushing away from him and sitting up beside him in bed.

"What are you-?" he starts.

"Shh, just watch," I say as I slowly remove my sleep shirt. I can feel myself blushing anxiously as Max's eyes widen. I pull the shirt up and it catches on the underside of my boobs, pulling them up ever so slightly as I tug. Then, I pull my shirt over my head, and Max sees his mommy's heavy DD titties flop out before him. The first boobs he's ever seen. His mouth opens ajar.

I wait cautiously for him to say something. Anything. I wait for him to run out of the room and rat me out to his father or maybe even law enforcement. After a number of painstaking moments, I sway my hips around a little, causing my tits and to swing back and forth ever so slightly.

"Do you... like them?" I ask.

He gulps deep and stammers out a response, "I- I don't- I'm not sure how to feel right now mom..."

At least that's something. He may not be rock hard for me but at least he's not disgusted. I reach down and grasp his slim hand, bringing it up to my right breast before taking my hand away.

"You can feel them baby" I allow, almost at a whisper.

Max begins to move my right boob around with his hand. First up and down, then in circles. Then he weakly grips it, squeezing like my tits are curious fidget toys. I steal a glance towards his crotch. Still not hard. Fuuuuuck. But he's playing with my tit right now. That's something! If I stop now then it'll all be pointless and I feel like I'm really starting to get somewhere. I close my eyes and let out a small whimper as he squeezes my tit harder. I bring up his other hand to the left one. He bounces it around with his palm underneath. I feel lile the devil himself, not compeltely disgusted by my son's touch on my sensitive breasts.

After a few more moments of that I open my eyes. His face is a mixture of confusion, anxiety, pleasure, and disgust. It's almost like he's watching a car crash and can't look away. But at least he's looking. Hell, he's involved.

"Alright baby, just stay like you are, I'm gonna try something else."

He takes his hands away and I pull him closer to the center of the bed. I lean over him, causing my tits to hang over his head like cow udders. I lower myself and place my small nipple to his lips. Blood rushes to my head as I blush hard. A gasp comes from his mouth as he opens his lips to take in my breast. I moan over my son as he starts to gently suck on my titty. Holy fuck. I'm not just tolerating this anymore. I'm turned on. Shit shit shit. That was not the plan. Forget about everyone finding out my son is gay. Finding out I pleasured myself by letting my son play with and suck on my titties? Worse than social outcast, I'd be a criminal. But the answer is sooo close. I can feel him sucking harder. He's still not hard bit he may actually be enjoying this. I could have him straightened out by the time dinner is ready and then this will all be behind us. I have to keep going.

Maxwell sucks for another minute and even brings his hands up to hold my titty in place for his mouth. Then I pull back. He pants.

"Is that good baby? Do you like sucking on mommy?" I ask more confidently this time.

He pauses, then nods. "It's-It's fun, mom. I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling but I know I'm... I'm having fun. Is that wrong?"

I smile, my motherly instinct taking precedent. "No that's not wrong sweetie pie. This is how it starts. Do you still feel gay?" Part of me hopes for it to be resolves now. A deeper, darker part of me hopes for it to never end.

He nods his head. "I don't think I feel turned on mom. I think maybe fun is different than pleasure."

Well, that settles it.

"Ok baby. I understand. We're gonna try something else now. Can you sit up on the edge of the bed for mommy?"

He raises an eyebrow in curiosity but does as I ask. I get off the bed, my boobs jiggling and cold from the spot on my nipple where my son's warm lips just lingered. I get on my knees in front of him.

"Ok honey this might be a little... intense, ok? I know it's weird to have your mom treat you like this but I promise it is going to feel so, so good. And then we can put this whole gay business behind us. Alright baby?"

He nods but keeps his brow furrowed. "What are you gonna do mom?"

I sigh and then look into his eyes. "Just pull your shorts off baby. Here, I'll help."

I reach out and grab the edges of my son's shorts and underwear, shimmying them off his hips as his eyes go wide again. I pull them down his legs and gasp. I knew it was coming. This was the inevitable destination I set myself on the second I let him suck on my chest. But God, the shock of the whole thing. The cock of my youngest son hangs between his legs, the tip pointing at me like the head of some veiny desert snake. His plump balls rest underneath against the bed. I contain myself for a second more and pull the clothes fully from his legs.

"M.. mom?" he asks, nervous.

"It's ok baby... it's ok. This is... wow. Well Max you certainly take after your father"

"It's big?" he asks, surprising me.

"Yes baby, it's big. You are gonna make some girl very happy one day once we get through with this." Hell, he's making this girl happy right now. I almost don't even have to convince myself of the end goal. Lust takes over, pushing the nature of this taboo to the background of my mind.

I wrap my hand around the girth of his shaft, lifting his flacid penis up and feeling its weight. It's thick. The length is just above average but, like his father, the girth of the thing would be enough to make me cum. Am I gonna cum? Should I cum? Would I go so far as to even have the chance? Am I trying to make him cum? Truly, I did not plan this well at all. My plan was flimsy and cheap. I am as interested in my next actions as my son looks to be.

I lick my hand and begin moving it up and down on my son's thick shaft. He moans. That's a good sign. We look into each other's eyes as he watches his bombshell mother stroke his penis on her knees. Lord forgive me. I feel it start to grow slightly in my hand. Holy shit can it get bigger? But I do not find my answer. I spit in my hand and begin stroking a little faster, but Max's penis remains around one fourth as hard as it could be. Progress is progress but this definitely isn't doing the trick.

Then I take a leap. I lean forward and kiss the tip of his cock. He moans and throws his head back slightly.

"Oh mom... fuck..."

"Language," I smirk before planting another kiss on the head.

He closes his eyes and I wrap my warm, supple lips around the tip. I use my tongue to gently press on it just from the inside of my mouth. My other hand rests around the base of it, twisting slightly. I have always been excellent at blowjobs. Every single one of my husband's birthdays, christmases, and job promotions, he gets a coupon for free head with no expectations of a return. It is his favorite gift, he says. More than the charcoal grill or the Star Wars themed cigar kit. And now, our youngest son is getting to see the magic for himself.

I work my head down on the shaft slightly, moving past the tip to suck all calm and gentle like. Max keeps his eyes closed but I can feel him working up a full boner. Yes, finally we're getting somewhere good. But do I even want it to end?

I start bobbing my head up and down, only going halfway on his thick penis. I caress his balls a little as I begin making slurping sounds, attempting to suck the gay out of my son's heavy cock with my warm mouth. He moans louder now, even bucking his hips with small movements every time I go down on him. God I hope Nick doesn't wake up. I fear the sight of him opening that door, watching his topless wife on her knees in front of his son's twin sized bed, sinking her head down on his girthy cock like a bitch in heat. It would not mean good things. Divorce, outcasting, jail. I better hurry.

Max's dick is almost compeltely hard in my mouth. I guiltily allow one of my arms to fall to my crotch, slipping my hand into the waistband of the pajama pants to rup the clit of my wet pussy. I am a bad mother. I relax my throat, using all the techniques I learned as a young woman trying to win the favor of frat boys. I gag as my head sinks all the way down to the base of my son's dick. I take all of him into my tight throat, the sounds of choking louder than I wished. My eyes tear up and saliva strings from the edge of my mouth as I pull back. Max moans in ecstasy. I push the thick cock back down my throat, bobbing my head again to give my youngest son as much pleasurable suction as I can muster. After a few moments I reel back again, gasping for air and using my free hand to stroke the wet shaft fast before I sink down on it again. Wetness crawls between my legs faster now and I speed up against my clit to match it.

I can't do this. I can't cum with my son. I can't let him cum in my throat. Surely this is enough. Julia you have got to come to your senses.

"M-max?" I muster, "Max do you feel good baby? Do you still feel gay?"

My son opens his eyes and meets mine. In his look, I already see a dreadful response.

"S-sorry mom... I'm just picturing a dude in my head. This feels soooo good mom but I think it's just the feeling, not the person."

"Ok" I nod quickly, not wanting to accept defeat after debasing myself and my baby boy so far, "Ok baby just do me a favor ok? Look into mommy's eyes and hold my hair baby. Make sure you're watching me baby, I need you to see me. Then use my mouth, ok?"

His mouth is aghast, "M-mom you want me to fuck your face?"

"Language, but... yes baby" I smile, "I want you to fuck mommy's throat."

He slowly grabs the sides of my hair and looks into my brown doe eyes. I keep eye contact the whole way. This is the only way, this distinguishes me as a woman and gives him pleasure. This will work. He stands up in front of the bed and brings my face to his cock. I open my supple lips once more as the tip enters. Then the shaft. Then he starts thrusting.

Tears fill my eyes as the gluck-gluck sounds of my son's meat in my mouth fill the room. I watch his face contort in pleasure and his jaw hangs open at the profound sight of his cock thrusting into his mom's face over and over. He picks up the pace, which I take as a good sign, and causes me to choke rapidly. I can feel saliva and precum spilling from my lips around the edges of his punishing dick. With guilt and shame, unable to help myself, I slip my hand back into my pants to rub my clit. Forget jail or divorce. If my husband walks in on this he might just have a heart attack on the spot. Nick has never done this to me. He's not the dominant type. Neither was my "gay" son before I told him he could have his way with my throat. I feel myself getting close to orgasm, and then I feel disappointment. My son is still attempting to slam into my throat but I feel his cock losing strength.

Worried, I push him off and stand up, realizing once more how much shorter he is than me.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"No time, you're losing it. There's only one more thing that might work baby, you need to feel a real, honest-to-god pussy."

I take off my pajama pants as my son frantically starts to object. "I can't do that mom! We can't have actual sex, that's like incest or something. Just accept that this didn't work!"

"Using your mom's throat like a fleshlight is already incest baby. We came this far, just trust me here," I try to assure him as I lean over his twin bed, now fully naked in front of him. I bend my back, pushing my fat bare ass in front of him as enticingly as I can.

"I'm gonna lose my virginity to my own mom?!" he asks, clearly in shock.

I sigh, "Yes baby, yes you are. Let mommy take your virginity baby, come on. Just try it. If it doesn't work, I'll buy you a car or something. Hurry, you're getting soft."

"A-alright..." he submits, still in shock, and approaches me from behind. I shake my ass with a welcoming twerk, just like I do for his father. Except Max doesn't slap, grab, or jiggle it. He just pushes my cheeks apart and gets on his tiptoes to try and line his tip up with my entrance. I lower myself a little to help him.

Then he slips right in. My pussy was so wet, lube actually might have made it dryer. I moan and grip the sheet hard as the long, girthy dick of my youngest son enters my pussy slowly. Max moans too, and I feel his strong boner return. This is it, this is the finale. He easily pushes all the way inside, burying himself down to the balls in my motherly insides.

"Ah fuck.. that's it baby..."

"Language," he replies dryly with a single breathed laugh.

"I think we're past that baby," I gasp out, "Fuck mommy's pussy baby."

He pulls out of me up to his cock before pushing back in with ease. The push of his length forces another moan from my lips. After a few more slow thrusts, he picks up the pace. Each buck of hips hips into my thick ass creates a slight slapping noise. He fucks me with his thick penis faster now, making my ass clap over and over again.

Maybe it's his smaller stature or greater force, but my youngest son is clapping my thick, round ass far more than his father ever managed. I try to bury my face into the sheets to disguise my moans, which gorw louder with each forceful thrust. Not that it matters. If Nick was awake then he would certainly hear the wet clapping of his hot wife's fat ass emerging from his son's bedroom.

"Grab mommy's hips baby!" I almost yell, shocking even me for a moment. Max does as I ask and gets a better angle on the harsh pounding he provides me.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" I moan as my pussy is punished with pleasure by the young cock which fills me. Fuck, I guess I am gonna cum. No going back now. If we're gonna do this, let's do it right.

I put a hand back to get him to stop, which actually proves to be an issue initially as his forceful thrusts continue. Once I get his motion to calm down, I crawl up onto the bed, facing the door. Max gets behind me once more, now much more comfortable and well placed to handle my stature. He presses his girth into my sopping pussy once more and I arch my back as much as I can.

"Slap my ass baby. Slap mommy's ass!" I request.

Max smacks my fat ass three times, grabbing it on the last time and pumping into my insides even faster.

"Ohhh fuck yes!" I moan.

Max moans and even grunts a little as he fills me over and over with the length of cock meat between his legs.

"Mommy's gonna cum baby, don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

"You're gonna cum mommy? You wanna cum on your son's thick cock?"

I moan and tear up in pleasure, "Yes baby. Yes please baby."

"Where should I cum?" he asks as his dick keeps pounding away at my pussy.

Oh fuck. That almost pulls me out of pleasure for a moment. I didn't expect to have my insides rearranged by my youngest son today. He's not wearing a condom and I haven't taken birth control since his father got a vasectomy. You can imagine with a community like mine, abortions are not on the table.

But I feel my body being moved back and forth on a girthy cock. I feel my son's slim hands gripping onto my hips. I feel my thick ass jiggle with each impact back onto his groin. And I just cannot bring myself to care. If it happens, it happens. I'll bang his dad later tonight after supper so if I get pregnant, there will be a cover. I can barely believe the words that come out of my mouth next.

"Cum in me sweetie. Creampie your mommy's pussy baby, please!"

I can feel his moment of hesitation but then he fucks even faster. With one hand he leans on my head and shoves me harder into his mattress as my ass jiggles hard with every rough thrust.

"Breed me baby! Breed mommy's pussy baby! Holy fuck I'm cumming!!"

And just as I utter my final statement, I look up. Nick is in the doorway, eyes wide and glazed over as he stares. He sees a frontal view of his wife being shoved into the twin sized mattress of his son, who looks down at the fat Pixar ass he claps with each reckless thrust, unaware that his father has caught us.

I gasp, but tears fill my eyes and my face contorts in pleasure as I cum. My wet pussy constricts around my son's girth with a firm grip. I feel my legs shudder and a long moan escapes my mouth. That seems to be enough for Maxwell. He gives his last rapid thrusts all of his energy and I sputter out, unable to control myself, "Fill mommy up baby!"

He shouts at the top of his lungs, "Fuck I'm cumming!!!" and I feel his dick explode inside of my pussy. Rope after rope of hot, fresh cum spill into the walls of my womb. My son drains his balls into my pussy as I keep the gaze of his father. Max doesn't even notice, giving my ass a final smack and then slumping back onto the bed with closed eyes, panting.

Nick does not utter a word. I pant, the cum spilling from my pussy behind the raised ass my husband sees from the front.

"W-well..." I start.

"Conversion therapy costs way too much... now we definitely know our son is not gay."