Mom's New Obsession

All characters are fictional and over the age of 18.

When 19-year-old Joel decides to surprise his mom with a weekend visit while his father is away on a business trip, he expects warm food and a quiet reconnection. But what he finds instead shatters every boundary. Joel witnesses his mother Veronica, a lush and unapologetically sexual woman in her forties with his childhood friend Jamal.

The story:

Joel hadn't been back home in months. University life had swallowed him up with classes, exams, parties, new people, long nights spent hunched over his laptop or lying in bed staring at the ceiling, half-stoned, half-lonely. So when his dad casually mentioned over a phone call that he'd be flying out for a business trip that weekend, Joel didn't think much of it at first. His father traveled a lot. That's how it had always been. But this time, something lingered in the quiet after they hung up. A strange tug in Joel's chest. He thought of his mother alone in that house for the weekend, and suddenly, he missed her. More than he expected.

So he bought a train ticket. No texts. No heads-up. Just a quiet decision. He packed a small overnight bag, grabbed a coffee, and leaned against the window as the landscape blurred past him, trying not to think too hard about why he was doing this. It wasn't just to be sweet. It wasn't just to surprise her. There was something else, something deeper and unnamed that sat in his chest like a warm weight.

The house came into view just as the sun was dipping low from the golden hour. That soft, forgiving light that made everything look more beautiful. Joel stepped out of the cab and stared for a moment at the front door, at the ivy creeping up the side of the porch, at the windows glowing faintly from within. It smelled like summer, warm earth, trimmed hedges, distant honeysuckle.

He let himself in quietly. The hallway was just as he remembered. The soft creak of the floorboards. The vase with fake lilies. The familiar hush. No voices. No movement. He didn't call out and something made him stay silent. Instead, he walked softly through the front hall, past the staircase, the living room with its dim lamplight and half-open window. His heart was thudding now, though he didn't know why. Then he heard it, it was a low sound. Barely audible. A rhythmic, pulsing noise that came in soft waves from upstairs and it was from the master bedroom.

Joel stopped and he froze, his breath caught high in his chest. The sound wasn't loud, more like a whisper tucked between the walls. But it was unmistakable. That faint thump. The delicate, intimate percussion of something moving... slowly, wetly. He swallowed, pulse spiking He stepped closer to the hallway it was darker here, the light from the staircase not quite reaching the second floor. He could see the faint sliver of illumination beneath the master bedroom door, that quiet golden warmth. And the sound again with no words. Just... breath. A slow, feminine exhale. It was his mother. Joel's hand tightened on the strap of his bag. Something hot bloomed in his belly, confused, thick, wrong and warm all at once. He knew he should speak. Call her name. Let her know he was here. But he didn't, he just stood there and listened.

The door was ajar. Just enough to tempt curiosity. Joel's hand hovered near the frame, fingers brushing the worn wood, heart hammering harder now. That sound was a faint wet pulse, that breathy rhythm, it was clearer here. A soft whimper, followed by a low, masculine murmur. He shouldn't be here. He knew that. But something rooted him in place. A twisted magnetism. A pull he didn't understand. Not fully.

He nudged the door open and the sight hit him like a punch. There she was his mother Veronica. Thick in all the right places. A woman who carried her age like a dare. Her body was lush and full, her breasts heavy and natural, spilling obscenely out of an open lace bra that did more to show them off than hide them. Her panties, what little there was of them, were crotchless, the sheer black lace clinging to her hips, split wide at the center to expose the gleam of wet pink lips between thick, soft thighs. She was on her knees. Her ass round and high, dimples in her lower back catching the golden light, her spine arched with practiced submission. Her hair was tousled, messy from fingers, her mouth open, her eyes wide with hunger. Begging and in front of her stood Jamal. Joel's childhood friend. Or rather, the man Jamal had now become. His black skin glistening under the lamp's low glow, his abs cut deep and tapering down into thick thighs and a cock that looked unreal. Long and thick. The kind of size that rewrote definitions. His shaft was already out, dark and veined, the head swollen and slick, pointing toward his mom´s face like something divine and dangerous. It hung with weight, bounced when he stepped, the kind of cock that stole breath and ruined expectations.

Joel's mouth went dry. She licked her lips. Looked up at him. "Please," Veronica whispered, voice shaking, eyes locked on that enormous shaft. "God, please let me taste it again. Let me feel you in my throat." Jamal smirked. Not rushed. Not moved. Just standing there, cock in hand, thick fingers stroking the length with slow confidence. His other hand cradled the back of her head, palm spread wide against her scalp, not pushing. Just holding. Owning. Like he knew she wasn't going anywhere.

"You think you deserve it?" he asked, voice deep, lazy, rich with dominance.

She nodded quickly, breasts swaying with the movement. "Yes. Please, yes. I've been thinking about it all week. I need it, baby. I need your cock in my mouth. I need to feel it stretch me again." Jamal dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, smearing a glint of precum there, watching her tongue chase it with a quiet moan. He tilted her chin up, his cock now grazing the side of her face, thick enough to shade her cheek like a shadow of sin.

Joel stood frozen. Every muscle tense. His heart pounding so loud it drowned out the rest of the house. He knew he should look away but he couldn't.

The image was burned into his eyes. That huge black cock, fat and gleaming, held inches from the open mouth of a woman old enough to be his aunt. Her tits swaying, her pussy visibly wet beneath the delicate cut of black lace, her hands trembling as she waited for his friend to give her permission to serve. To worship.

And Jamal, so calm, so big, so impossibly in control, just looked down at her with that heavy-lidded expression of a man who already knew how this night would end. "You're gonna make a mess, aren't you?" he murmured, guiding the head to her lips Veronica's eyes fluttered. Her tongue slid out.

"Yes. Please. I want all of it. I want to gag on it. I want to drool all over it. I want to choke for you."

And as she leaned in, mouth opening wide, lips trembling with hunger, Joel stepped back from the door. His pulse was thunder and he was hard. He was so hard it hurt. But he didn't make a sound. He just stood there, breath held, cock throbbing in his jeans, unable to unsee it. Joel stayed frozen, breath barely moving, the door cracked open just enough for him to see everything. Jamal hadn't noticed him. Veronica certainly hadn't. She was too far gone, too soaked in need, her mouth parted, tits heaving with each desperate breath.

Jamal didn't give her what she wanted right away. Instead, he gripped the base of that thick, beautiful cock and traced it along her cheek. It smeared a glossy trail across her flushed skin, leaving her trembling. Her lips chased the head each time it slipped away. Her breath was shallow, open-mouthed panting now, tongue flicking out as if she could taste him in the air. "Look at you," Jamal muttered, voice low, almost amused. "So hungry for my cock."

Veronica moaned, her fingers digging into her own thighs. Her knees shuffled on the carpet, trying to press herself closer. "Please. Please let me taste it. Let me take it." Veronica whimpered, lips swollen, tongue out, trying to catch the tip. "Fuck, Jamal, please. I need it. I need your cock so bad. I'll suck it like a fucking whore, I swear." Jamal chuckled. "Damn right you will." And then he gave it to her.

The thick head pushed past her lips, slow and deliberate, her mouth stretching wide around the size. She moaned instantly, eyes fluttering, and her hands moved to brace against his thighs. Inch by inch, he fed it to her, her jaw opening wider, her throat beginning to flex as he pushed deeper. The wet sounds were obscene almost immediately, slick, messy, the kind of suction that echoed off walls. She gagged once. Then again. But she didn't stop. She welcomed it. Took more.

Drool was already spilling from the corners of her lips. Strings of it clung to her chin, trailing down her neck. Jamal didn't thrust fast. Not yet. He let her choke on the first few strokes, slow and purposeful, letting her feel just how much she was being filled.

"Yeah. That's it," he growled. "You missed this fat dick, didn't you? Missed choking on it. Get it wet, baby. All of it."

She gurgled a moan in response, unable to speak with her mouth stuffed so deep. Her eyes were glassy now, spit spilling down her chest, nipples stiff, tits bouncing slightly with every subtle push of his hips and Joel couldn't tear his eyes away. The glistening mess on her face. The obscene bulge in her throat as Jamal fed her the full length. The soft gags and wet coughs muffled around his cock. The way she clung to him like worship.

Joel's cock was hard in his jeans. Painfully hard. And he hadn't even moved. He just stood there, barely breathing, watching as his childhood friend used a grown woman's mouth like it was nothing more than a sleeve for that massive, dripping cock. And his mom? She loved every second of it.

Jamal leaned back onto the bed, relaxed, cock still wet from Veronica's mouth, thick and glistening in the low light. His body stretched wide, every inch of him solid, confident, his thighs spread just enough to invite her in. He didn't speak. He didn't have to. The way he looked at her like she was already claimed and it said it all.

Veronica crawled up onto the bed with a slow, aching grace. Her hips swayed as she climbed over him, her thighs thick, her ass round and full, jiggling with each movement. The lace of her panties was still clinging to her hips but pulled to the sides now, exposing slick, swollen lips, the curve of her ass glossy with arousal and spit. She straddled him, facing away, her back arched, tits swinging freely beneath her as she reached back to grab his shaft. Her fingers barely fit around it.

Joel could see everything.

He was still standing outside the cracked door, breath shallow, eyes wide, his heart pounding like a drum in his throat. He watched as she angled Jamal's cock beneath her and pressed the tip against the soft crease of her backside, not shy, not hesitant, like this wasn't the first time she'd taken every inch of that heavy dick. She sank down slowly.

Joel's jaw clenched. He could see the way her ass parted as she lowered herself onto him, the way Jamal's hands gripped both cheeks, spreading them wider so he could watch his own cock disappear into her. The thick head stretched her open, lips straining to take the size, and she moaned low, raw, guttural, as the first few inches pushed inside. Her body trembled from the stretch and Jamal didn't speak. He just held her open and Joel saw it all. The thick, dark shaft sliding deeper between her cheeks, the obscene way she took it, slow and greedy. Her thighs were shaking, her breath stuttering, but she kept going, her fat ass lowering inch by inch until her cheeks met his lap and he was buried fully inside her.

"Fuck," she whispered. "I'm so full."

Jamal's hands didn't stop. He held her ass wide, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he moved one hand lower, his fingers slipping down to spread her further. Not just her cheeks now he was exposing everything, letting the heat of the moment settle between her swollen folds, letting Joel if only he knew see the gleam of her wetness, the pulse of her clit, the twitch of her body around his cock.

And then his fingers moved up. He traced the delicate skin between her cheeks. Just a slow drag of one fingertip. She shivered, gasped, arched her back even more, as if inviting it. He could see the slow circle Jamal's finger traced at the edge of her back entrance, just to tease, not forcing anything, just touching. Testing. Watching her squirm. His other hand never left her ass, spreading her open like a gift.

The contrast was unreal. His deep brown skin against the pale, flushed curve of her body. Her back arched, her tits swaying below, her moans echoing faintly as she rocked slowly on that massive cock buried inside her and Joel's cock throbbed painfully in his jeans. He was watching something feral. Intimate. Pornographic. The kind of thing he could never imagine this woman doing, not in a thousand fantasies. But she wasn't just doing it. She was loving it. Needing it.

She rolled her hips, groaning low. Jamal's hand dragged back down, one thumb circling her entrance lazily, then dipping lower to her soaked slit, spreading her gently, letting the light catch the shine of her arousal. Joel could see her fingers dig into Jamal's thighs, her body clenching as she rode that cock with slow, messy rhythm. She was so full, her ass swallowing him inch by inch, her cheeks jiggling with every roll, every bounce.

He watched. Stunned, aroused and unable to move. And he knew he would never forget this. Not the way Jamal owned her like it was nothing. Like it was routine and still, she moaned like it was everything. Joel couldn't move. Not even to breathe properly. His fingers clung to the edge of the cracked door, his eyes fixed, his heart thudding so hard he thought it might give him away. Veronica's body was still moving, her thighs shaking slightly as she rocked on top of Jamal, full to the edge, her ass spreading wide with every slow thrust she took back down.

The way her hips rolled, the way her breath caught in her throat, the way her thick, mature curves bounced with each grind. God, she was being fucked like she needed it to live. And she was his mom. That thought stabbed through him. His dad was away and had no idea what she was doing right now, no idea how she looked when she gave herself away like this. No idea she was taking cock like a starved woman.

He should've left. He should've stopped looking. But his cock was so hard it ached, the pressure unbearable against his jeans. Shame burned through his face. But it didn't stop him. He needed to see more.

Then Jamal spoke, low and commanding. "Turn around. On your hands and knees." Veronica moaned like that was all she'd been waiting to hear. She lifted herself off his cock slowly, her body trembling from the stretch, her breath shaky, the thick shaft slipping out wet and heavy behind her. She moved with practiced grace, crawling up the bed like a woman who knew exactly what she was for. Her back arched beautifully, her knees spreading, her hands planting into the mattress as she lifted that wide, perfect ass.

Her tits were hanging freely now, heavy and natural, swaying with every shift of her body. They were enormous. Full and flushed, nipples stiff and dark, swinging with soft weight as her chest moved. Her belly wasn't flat she had a soft, womanly swell that curved just right beneath her tits, sexy and real, the kind of body you couldn't stop touching once you started. Her skin glistened, a light sheen of sweat catching the warm lamplight, highlighting the dip of her spine, the bounce of her ass.

Jamal knelt behind her, one hand gripping the base of his cock, the other resting casually on the small of her back. He stared at her ass like it was something he'd paid for and now fully owned. With one smooth thrust, he slid himself back inside her and the sound was obscene. It was wet, thick, deep.

Veronica gasped, her elbows giving for a moment before she steadied herself. "Oh fuck... oh fuck, yes..." Jamal started moving. Harder now. Real strokes, not teasing. His hips slammed into her ass, the clap of flesh echoing off the bedroom walls. His hands gripped her cheeks, spreading her as he drove himself deeper, over and over, watching the way she swallowed him.

Joel's mouth was dry. His cock throbbed in time with every sound, every slap, every filthy moan from Veronica's throat. He could see it all her tits swinging, her belly bouncing softly with each thrust, her back arching more, begging for it deeper. Jamal's dark hands looked so good against her pale skin, spreading her, holding her, fucking her like he'd done this a hundred times and knew every spot that made her break. And still, she moaned and she was louder now. Like she wanted someone to hear. Joel stepped back from the door, only slightly. He was hard and ashamed, breath shallow, heart full of heat and confusion.

Veronica's body was a masterpiece of mature, sensual flesh. Thick in all the places that made a man's hands greedy. Her back dipped into a soft arch, the curve of her spine ending in that wide, luscious ass. Big, plump, round, jiggling with every hungry thrust. Her hips flared dramatically, a gorgeous contrast to her narrow waist, and her belly, soft and feminine, hung just enough beneath her, swaying subtly with the motion of her body. She was all curves, all heat, her skin flushed with arousal, slick with sweat and spit, her tits heavy and swinging freely under her as she moaned into the mattress.

Jamal's hands gripped her ass like it belonged to him. His dark fingers dug into the pale flesh, spreading her wide open each time he slammed forward. The sound of skin meeting skin was wet and sharp, echoing through the room with a rhythm that made Joel's stomach twist and tighten. Jamal was fucking her like he wanted to leave her ruined. Each thrust came with weight, deep and relentless, burying himself to the hilt inside her soaked pussy, hips driving forward with deliberate, brutal rhythm.

Joel couldn't tear his eyes away. He could see everything and how his mom´s ass rippled with each impact, how her back tensed and relaxed under the weight of him, how her mouth hung open in raw pleasure, eyes closed, tits swaying wildly beneath her. The way she took him looked impossible. Like her body had been built to handle exactly that kind of cock. Long, thick, veined, wet with her. And she was swallowing it all, over and over, her pussy gripping tight, stretched around every inch as he fucked her deeper.

Jamal leaned in, his body pressing down, his hand sliding up to the small of her back, forcing her deeper into the bed as his cock pounded upward into her. Veronica gasped, her thighs trembling, her knees spread wider, hips bucking in helpless surrender. "Take it," he growled, breath hot against her ear. "You know this pussy needs it deep."

Her body was rocking back into him with every thrust, her flesh rippling, her ass clapping back against his hips. Joel was rock hard, jaw clenched, breath caught. It was filthy. Hypnotic. He had never seen a woman like her move like that. Never seen a body so unapologetically built for being fucked. And never imagined watching her get owned like this, used like she was meant for it, would make him throb with this much shame and heat all at once.

Veronica's tongue chased every drop, her lips glistening, parted and hungry. Cum splashed across her cheek, her chin, thick white streaks dripping from her lower lip as she sucked the last pulses from his shaft with desperate greed. She moaned around him, eyes fluttering, letting his cock rest across her face like a crown of filth. Warm semen slid down her throat, a messy trail smeared across her tits where he'd pulled free just as the final rope burst against her collarbone.

She opened her mouth wide, tongue out, showing him the mess inside. "You came so much," she whispered, voice hoarse, sticky with his taste. She swallowed slowly, deliberately, then licked at the corner of her mouth, catching the last streak clinging to her lip. Jamal's chest rose and fell, his cock still twitching slightly in the humid air. He stepped back, watching her from above with that cool, satisfied calm that came after conquest.

"Fuck, you're a good little cumrag," he murmured, stroking himself lazily as he admired the way she kneeled before him, covered, used, glowing with perverse pride. Veronica reached up with two fingers and scooped a glob of cum from her breast, bringing it to her lips. She sucked it clean, moaning softly as the taste coated her tongue again. "I needed that," she whispered, almost to herself, eyes glassy with lust. "God, I needed to be used like that."

Behind the cracked door, Joel hadn't moved and his cock was hard. Painfully so. Pressed against the inside of his jeans like it wanted out, wanted release, wanted... more. His pulse throbbed in his throat. His mother's voice was a drug. Her moans, her obedience, her filthy satisfaction and it wasn't just pornographic. It was holy. He watched her wipe a trail of cum from her chin with the back of her hand, then lick it from her palm. Still on her knees. Still dripping. And still begging for more dnd Joel knew, without question, this wasn't the end.

Joel rushed down the stairs, heart pounding, not from fear but from something deeper, hotter, messier. He didn't stop to think, didn't look back at the door still slightly ajar behind him. He just kept walking, down the block, past the hedges and the mailboxes and the flickering streetlamp that always buzzed faintly. He made it to the corner, the curve at the end of the street where the trees leaned in a little too close, and there he stopped. Hands on his hips, trying to breathe, trying to clear his head. His jeans were tight, painfully so, and his thoughts were a blur of her sounds, her skin, the wet gleam of her lips as she swallowed another man's cum with something that looked too much like joy.

Five minutes passed. Maybe six. He wiped the sweat from the back of his neck, took a breath, and called her. "Hey, Mom," he said, voice lighter than it should've been, like he wasn't flushed and trembling and half hard in the dark. "I was just heading home, but I thought maybe I'd stop by and surprise you. Got something for you. Be there in five."

There was a pause, then her voice crackled softly through the line, warm but shaky. "Joel, honey. That's... what a surprise. That's so sweet of you." She cleared her throat. He could hear something shift in the background, fabric maybe, a soft sound like movement. "I was just about to settle in for the night, but yeah. I'd love to see you. Looking forward to it."

He smiled. Said something casual. Hung up. When he came back, the house looked the same. Warm lights on in the front windows, the soft yellow glow spilling out onto the porch. He didn't see Jamal. No sign of him on the sidewalk, no sound of a car starting, no movement from the upstairs window. Just silence.

Then the door opened and she stood there in her robe with her hair pulled up in a messy twist, cheeks flushed, mouth glossy. Her robe was cinched a little too tight at the waist, the fabric soft and low at the chest. She was barefoot. And underneath, Joel knew, he felt it and she was completely naked.

"Hi, baby," she said, voice soft, breathy, like it always was when she'd just finished laughing. or moaning. Joel stepped inside he didn't say a word about what he didn't see. She leaned in before he could say anything, arms slipping around his waist with a warmth that felt too practiced, too composed for how recently she'd been on her knees. Her lips met his softly, slowly, not like a mother's casual peck but something that lingered just a second longer than it should have. Warm. Damp. Still flushed from heat. He kissed her back instinctively, breath catching. And then he tasted it. Something strange and salty. His stomach tightened. It wasn't perfume or wine or lip gloss. It was thicker. Lingering. A faint bitterness clinging behind the sweetness of her mouth. Like something slick that hadn't quite been swallowed.

She pulled back and smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. "You okay?" she asked gently, eyes wide and calm, too calm, her robe shifting slightly at the chest, revealing the top curve of one flushed, still-jiggling breast. Joel nodded. His pulse pounded in his ears. He swallowed. "Yeah," he said. "Just... tired." But his tongue slid across his bottom lip. The taste still lingered and he knew then, this was going to be a hard weekend.