True stories from my past: My mom

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True stories from my past: My mom

Post by Nonita on Mon May 29, 2017 8:06 pm

Introduction stuff that is not wank material:

I've been lurking on this forum for a couple months now, taking in the posts and just in general enjoying the content. While this fetish isn't completely my thing, it's pretty close. The bully thing I can take or leave, but a son finding out his mom is a slut, or actually seeing the action is what gets me going. Almost certainly because I saw this from my mother many times as a kid and teen.

So, I think I'm going to write up true stories from my life, and post them in a sort of episodic format. No real time line for them taking place. Meaning the second story may be from when I'm 17, the third may be from when I'm 10. Just things that come to my mind or I find particularly hot.

Fair warning in that I'm not the greatest writer at all, in particular I have trouble with dialogue. I'm going to do my absolute best to keep these as true to the real events as possible, and remembering things word for word that happened 25 years ago isn't always easy.

How many recollections I write out will depend on response. If no one is interested, I'll probably only do one or two.

Also, I will say before anyone brings it up, that yes, my mother is a really shitty person. Believe me when I say, I know that. For many or even most of you, the stuff you read on this forum is just fantasy. For me, it was reality, and it really fucking sucked to live it. Especially as a kid. She definitely fucked me up, thus this fetish that I have. I'm not trying to kill your buzz, just mentioning it before it gets brought up in the thread. Ultimately my life got much better, but I'll save that for a story in this thread, as it's actually got a mom fetish story involved

The first story will include a bunch of background about how I grew up and my mom in general.   Those following will be about a single specific situation. I have plenty of material to choose from, so don't worry about this series sputtering out early.

To give you an idea of what my mom looked like, here's a picture of a woman that fairly approximates her:

During most of these stories, my mother is in her 40's. Think busty brunette Greek milf. To be honest, there probably are real nude photos of her circulating online. I just don't care to try and look (nor would I post them on here and let myself be identified anyway).

All names have been changed to give me some privacy obviously. For the same of keeping this simple

My name is: John
Mothers name: Adrienne

Story 1: History and Loyd

For the first 8 years of my life or so, my mother was not a very sexual person. Or at least, not in front of me. I have no early memories of seeing her do anything questionable with any man. I don't think I even saw her hug a man that was outside of our family! She dressed like a normal soccer mom might back then. Maybe you'd show a tiny bit of cleavage or something when she dressed up for whatever event was going on, but besides that it was all shorts/skirts to the knee in the summer, and normal pants/long dresses in the winter. She was about as unprovokative as one could get while still being a woman.

My mother had divorced my father when I was 2, and he died when I was 6. Not much loss there to be honest. As I grew up she didn't date at all until I was about 7-8, when she started dating a man who we later found to be abusive. That's not the point though. The point is that her sexuality suddenly went off the chart. I was too young to really understand, but it was not unusual to hear very loud moaning and headboard slamming from the room right next to mine. If I came home early or unexpectedly, there was a somewhat decent chance I'd find them fooling around on the couch, often with her top off. I really didn't understand at the time exactly what was happening, but I knew by now that adults have sex. I didn't know what sex was (that didn't last for long), but I knew it involved kissing and being naked.

My mom had me when she was 33, so around this time she was maybe 40-41. She was absolutely a milf, though I didn't realize it at the time. She was maybe 5'3, with long brown hair and brown eyes. Her face was still very attractive at that time. Her frame was ridiculous, large breasts (I don't know the size, but suffice it to say much more than a generous handful!), and a great ass. Still pert with some bounce in it at the time. Her legs weren't crazy like the rest of her, but still respectably long and shaved.

When I was 9 she broke up with the abusive guy, and he died shortly there after of a heroin overdose. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

She started dating much more after that. At first she'd just go out dressed up a bit and come home at a normal time. After about a year of that though she'd get dressed to the nines in some very "questionable" clothing for a 43 year old mother with a son at home. Lots of cleavage on display, short skirts that if she bent over would show her ass clear as day. Slutty makeup with popping lipstick that really highlighted her plump lips. When I was younger she didn't drink because it terrified me (my father had drank himself to death and I was actually in the hospital room when he went, left a mark), but she started drinking on those dates and coming home with guys. She'd also take prescription pain killers, smoke pot, and use a whole host of illegal drugs.

Since I was about 11-12 when this started happening, I was deemed old enough to stay at home on her date nights. Sometimes she'd come back, sometimes she'd go to their place. When she came back, it was not unusual at all to hear her stumble in the front door with another pair of foot steps behind her, giggling and playing as they made themselves comfortable. I normally hid in my room and pretended to sleep. At first.

Soon enough though (after maybe the third time this happened), I was peeping down halls, looking down from the attic crawl area (there was a ladder in my room to it), which had tons of little slits and cracks to observe the whole house, including the bathroom, her bedroom, and the living room. I just had to be very quiet and sneaky to dodge the squeaky areas.

That's when I really first saw her sexuality on display. She'd normally stumble in to the house around 1-2AM, with some guy following behind her. Sometimes they were her age, sometimes they were maybe 25 at most. A few times I thought she was hooking up with college or even 18-20 years old. They'd come in to the house, I'd wait for my mom to come to my room and open the door to check on me. Pretending to be fast asleep with some music playing. Then I'd climb up and observe.

She'd normally put on some light music and then either go into her secret stash of booze, or weed. They'd settle down on the couch (most of the time), and cuddle up while getting a little more sloshed/high, getting very handsy and touching/kissing. Most of the time they'd move it to her bedroom, but not always. sometimes she would blow them right on the couch, or even fuck right there. They did their best to keep it down at those times (mostly, sometimes they were too drunk to even care).

My most memorable early experience watching was when she brought home a young guy that at first I didn't recognize. Until I did. She'd said she had a date, but didn't go into details. I distinctly remember her outfit that night. She was wearing a light red super clingy top that exposed a good fourth of her cleavage to the world. It went all the way to her waist, with a very, very short black skirt that would not be considered decent in any company. It was practically a belt with a couple extra inches sewn on.

Anyway, she went out like usual, gave me money for pizza and said she'd be out late. Said she loved me, kissed me on the cheek, and told me to wish her luck. I did, though obviously not enthusiastically. I knew what "luck" would get her, and wasn't always happy about it.

They made it home around 2 AM, I was almost really asleep. She came to my door like usual, stumbling half the way and making so much noise. I'm amazed she even bothered, if I had been sleeping, I wouldn't have been after she opened my door and checked on me. As soon as she walked off I scampered my way up the ladder and checked the living room. I found him, but didn't immediately recognize him. He had been away for over a year and the military hair cut was different compared to his past rocker hair. My mom was in the kitchen as it turned out, getting them some drinks and fishing out some pot she had stocked in there.

She went back to the living room, and they cuddled up together on the couch. They put some kind of movie on for background noise, and started getting hot and heavy when the weed was smoked and gone. In no time at all her top was gone, showing that she didn't have a bra on. They were necking hard at this point and it's then when I realized who it was. When my mother moaned his name and he answered, I recognized his voice. It was my best friends older brother who had joined the marines and was home on leave. I shit you not. His name was David, and he was always a cool guy to my friend and I. He would take us swimming in the lake near our houses, fishing, and even buy fireworks for us when shops wouldn't sell to underage kids. To say seeing him with my mom was a shock, would be the understatement of the year.

Pretty soon his pants were off and she was between his knees on the floor. This lasted for maybe 15 minutes before he came hard. I'm not sure if she swallowed or spit it out on the floor, but he definitely came in her mouth. At that point they relaxed on the couch for a little bit, not bothering to dress. My mom started getting onto him after maybe 20 minutes of talking and drinking, and before long he had her legs on his shoulders as he ate her out. I will never forget how he was mauling her tits with his hands while he was doing it, he was obsessed with them (for good reason). Soon enough this transitioned to her legs on his shoulders while he fucked her, first slow, but then faster and faster. Fast and hard enough to slam the couch into the wall. I could clearly hear it in the attic, and there's no doubt that it would have been just as loud and recognizable in my room.

The noises from them were just as obvious though. He was grunting and huffing, her moaning (loudly!) his name while grabbing onto his back and ass with her hands. Her moans turned to squeals and eventually just loud "ugh ugh ugh" grunts until she (very obviously) came hard. He wasn't far behind at all, and pulled out to come on her tits, belly, and pubic region.

They rested after that, but it wasn't over. They went to her room (I had to quickly crawl back down and play dead again as she passed and checked on me), and took new drinks with them. When in there, they locked the door (not that it mattered much when I could just look down at them with the huge amount of cracks and small opening in the ceiling). They then smoked a few more bowls together while watching some stupid TV show on Lifetime she loved, cuddled up together like lovers. It didn't take long however for him to recover, because soon enough he was grabbing and teasing her nipples/tits again. It ended up with him pulling her ass to the edge of the bed where he ate her for what seemed like hours. Then when she was still seeing stars and weak kneed, he grabbed her by the hips, twisted her around, and started fucking her.

If you thought the noise in the living room was loud, the noise of her huge headboard (with two giant mirrors in it that I later figured out she probably bought just for the sexual aspect), that smacked the wall was monstrously loud. Especially when amplified by the more enclosed room they were in. Their noises also echoed far more, and if I had actually been in my room, there would have been no doubt exactly what was going on.

This time they seemed to go on forever. They would slow down and seem to be just about finished, and then they would change positions and go again. It was crazy for me to see, because normally her dates would be good for one, maybe two fucks at the most. Then they'd either curl up and spoon to sleep, or he'd get dressed and leave. But they went on for at least two hours. When I went back to my room, it was already 5 AM.

When they did finally finish, I was treated to the sight of him coming on her breasts as she sat on her knees and offered them up to him.

He eventually got dressed and left an hour or so after they finished and showered together in her private bathroom. I never mentioned it to her, she never said a thing to me. David did not show up to my house after that though. Whenever I saw him I would just pretend to be ignorant of anything. To his credit, he never said anything to me or his friends, I would have known because his friends were also close to me through his younger brother (my best friend), and it would have been impossible for me not to hear.

But that was really just one incident in a long, long, long line of them. My mother went from a relatively demure, stable mother who only dated rarely and kept any sexual conquests away from the home, to an extremely sexual freak who would go out two or three nights a week and either stay out for the night, or come home with different men almost every time. The guys she did date were relatively okay, but it was clear that I was not important to them. They were there for her, specifically her body. Some of them were more obvious about it than others. One man I'll call "Loyd" did not hesitate to grab her when she was walking by in one of her sexy/sleazy outfits she wore around them, and kissing her/grabbing her ass/throwing a hand around her shoulder and just casually groping her tits. Right in front of me. Most of the time if it was too sexual she'd laugh it away, but sometimes if she was drunk or high, she'd giggle and willingly take part in it right in front of me. Even at the age of like 13.

One night when I came home unexpectedly from a sleep over, I walked in on them on the couch with her head in his lap and him holding a burning joint. I didn't know what to say, there was no hiding me being there. I was old enough to know exactly what was going on (I had seen it dozens of times at that point obviously), and I just kind of froze up. It was obvious that they were both fucking out of it though, because she clearly noticed me, and then went back to sucking his cock like I wasn't even there, didn't even acknowledge my presence. Loyd though. Loyd looked at me like Christmas had come early. I truly think he got off on showing me, his lovers son, what they did in private.

He looked me right in the eyes and said "You're back early, something go wrong"? He didn't even mention my mothers head in his lap, or his hand slowly guiding her. It was clear that they were both fucked beyond belief on something (my mother later told me they had mixed alcohol with Xanax/Soma and had stolen some of my ADHD Adderall pills to stay upright and mobile. I'm sure the boosted sexual appetite and energy had something to do with it as well). When I told him that I had a fight with my friend, too mortified and yet aroused to do anything but answer the question, he laughed to himself and just told me "those things happen my boy", and then peeked down at my mom (who was still going at it!), and then looked at me. When he noticed I wasn't moving or saying anything, he seemed to get a bright idea. He motioned me closer and went to hand me the joint he was smoking. I was still too shocked to even move however, and just stood there staring at him.

He was grinning from ear to ear when I stood like 4 feet away from then, and looking me right in the eyes before asking me if I had ever smoked weed. When I said no, he again made to pass me the join, and said bright as day "Well now's as good a time as any, I've always found that it helps ease my nerves". I took it and backed up, trying not to make it look like I was watching the action intently, but I clearly was. My mom at some point had switched from head bobbing to lying her head on his thigh, seemingly about to fade out, lapping 1softly at his dick.

I guess at this point it's worthwhile to say that Loyd was a pretty attractive man as far as men in their early thirties can be. He was in shape, had a square jaw with a good looking permanent shadow, and a toned body that I could clearly see with him naked on the couch. He also had a pretty damn big cock. I didn't have a measuring tape on hand, but it must have been at least 7, maybe 8 inches. And pretty thick too. His bush was manscaped pretty well, with little beyond small surface hair that was cut short. His legs were just as toned as the rest of him, and his light blond hair was in pretty nice shape despite his fears of early male balding (apparently his father, grandfather, and great grandfather had all gone bald before 40).

So watching my mom lay there on him with her shirt off and tits out in the air, lightly lapping at his dick was kind of...Well it was awful of course. Awful and embarrassing and really shitty to be "caught" watching them. And yet, it was also highly arousing. They were like two slightly older porn stars right in front of me. Only one of them was my mom, and one of them was her pretty decent to me boyfriend who I actually kind of liked, despite him grabbing her in front of me (or maybe because of it?).

Anyway, at this point I'm looking down at the joint in my hand with no idea what to do. I had never even smoked a cigarette, hell, hadn't even thought of it. He could clearly see I was in need of help, because he piped up and said "put it in your mouth, suck on it a little tiny hit, and then take it out, while opening your mouth and sucking in the smoke". I immediately tried what he said, but I was just a little distracted watching the show in front of me (while he sat there with the biggest shit eating grin on his face), and ended up coughing my lungs out.

Loyd seemed to have been waiting for this, because he gave a little amused chuckle and looked me in the eye before telling me patiently "No boss, you took too much for your first time. The key is small drags at first while trying to suck it all in, give it another go!". Well, I was game, I think I probably would have done anything at that point to stay in the room and watch. I quickly brought the joint to my lips again, suck in a very small amount of smoke, and then inhaled hard and fast. I held it (I knew that much about weed smoking at least), and then let out a tiny little stream.

That seemed to be enough to earn some praise though, because he gave a small little click of his fingers before telling me "Great job son, now give it another go. maybe a little bigger puff!". When I raised the joint to my lips again, he took the opportunity to wake my mother up a little bit more (as she had clearly been about to pass out on his lap), and brought her lips back up to his dick while whispering down at her something I couldn't hear over the TV.

She raised her head back to his little head and started polishing it with her lips before taking it in her mouth. All this time she still hadn't so much as looked me in the eyes, but I know she knew I was there. The way she tensed when the door opened and she heard my voice, the way she had gone rigid at first when I stood there flabbergasted. The slow relaxing as the drugs took her away and she realized there wasn't gonna be a blow up.

It was at this point that I started really getting the hang of it, and took drag after drag. Loyd didn't say a word, didn't berate me for skeeving the weed right there. Just grinned his damn head off and waited til I was clearly high as fuck to start talking sex.

After most of the joint was gone and I was running out of room to hold the roach, I was finding it hard to really stay upright. My lungs were hurting a bit and the world seemed odd. I felt this amazing euphoria rushing through my body like I had never experienced before. Everything felt sensitive, even the air blowing on me. I was almost as giggly as my mother and Loyd, my mouth was dry and I was...very aroused at the sight in front of me. The fear and embarrassment and just plain surface level disgust at being caught and involved was either at the edge of my mind, or completely gone.

Loyd chose his time well. He saw how I was lightly gumming my lips and running my tongue around in my mouth, and reached over my mothers now bobbing head to hand me his drink off the table with a sigh. I had to walk over to him, which turned out to be more of a challenge than I had expected. I was thoroughly baked, that weed must have been very strong. When I got close enough, he gave me a smile and a wink, and said "Dry mouth huh? That's normal buddy, have my drink and sit down. Hand me the roach before you do though". I didn't know what roach meant at the time, but he was pointing at the remaints of the joint, so it was pretty self explanatory. I passed it over to him, careful not to burn either of us, and then sat down on the love seat maybe five feet total from them. I could see even more from this half to the side angle, and it was entrancing.

My mouth really was dry though, so I took a large gulp of his drink, thinking it was water. It was not. The vodka burned going down, and tasted pretty bad to my naive self of the time. I sputtered slightly trying not to spill or spit it all over myself. Loyd let out a belly laugh at that, but again grinned at me reassuringly before calling out "Ha, everyone's first sip of Vodka is like that son, completely normal! Give it another go, but just sip it slowly".

So I relaxed slightly in the love seat and nursed my new drink, as the attention very quickly shifted for both of us to his lap, and what was going up and down in it.

Looking back it's very clear what Loyd's plan was. He was trying to get me intoxicated enough to not freak out. Which worked pretty well. Probably worked even better because I found it arousing in a sick, twisted way.

In any case, Loyd had chosen his timing well. Now that I was relaxing hard into the seat and finding it near impossible to stay upright, Loyd took his shot. "So, I guess you're wondering what exactly is going on here with your mom and I eh?", he questioned while trying (and failing spectacularly) to look and sound innocent.

Loyd and I had a pretty decent relationship in terms of joking around and not being formal, so I didn't feel afraid to snort and say "I know a little about sex you know, I'm not a kid". To which he damn near let out a roar of laughter, but contained it to not spook my mom, who seemed to be in some kind of trance right then. Still laving his cock with her tongue and sucking the head whilst working the shaft with her hands. My head was almost spinning, but I still managed to lock my eyes on the sight.

He was again grinning ear from ear, and said to me "well that's good to hear, so you know what's going on huh?", and I nodded my head while responding with a short "She's blowing you". I said it in a matter of fact sort of way, because I didn't know what else do.

But again, Loyd was ready for this occasion. He sighed softly and let out a little moan before saying "Well yeah, that's one way of looking at it. Another way is that this is just your mom showing that she cares about me, like how sometimes I show I care about her. Most of the time we don't do it in front of you (yeah right, remember the grabbing and fondling right fucking in front of me!), but we weren't expecting you back tonight".

I was a little too focused on the action to really take in everything he said, but I had started to get over my shock and terror, and was really looking at my mom. I could tell something was off, so I asked Loyd a bit fearfully "Is something wrong with her?". Loyd had given me a look that 100% said "Don't blow this you stupid shit", before resting his hand back on my moms head before she lifted it to answer, and said shortly "Nah boss, your mom and I have just been enjoying the drink and weed all night, like you. She's just a little in the zone right now. Don't worry, she's fine, she'll be all normal by tomorrow."

"Oh, that's good", I replied softly. Everything seemed to be spinning at this point. The vodka had seemed to lose most its taste, and I didn't hesitate to finish it with lone long gulp. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, willing everything to stop moving. When my stomach finally felt like it wasn't going to revolt and expel its contents onto the floor, I calmed down a bit.

"How you feelin' bud, you looked like you were gonna lose your lunch there for a second", At this point Loyd had relaxed back onto the touch as well, his hand had gone back to the top of my mothers had, and he was rubbing her hair while giving me a concerned look.

I reach over to the table and grabbed my mothers neglected drink and took a sip before reply. “I’m feeling okay now, the world was just spinning for a minute there”, I answered, trying to keep cool and look at his face. By this time the shock had given way to arousal and a feeling of awkwardness. At least for me, Loyd seemed to be perfectly comfortable.

Unexpectedly, my mother let out a slight moan and undulated her hips against Loyd’s hand, which had made its way up her skirt without me noticing. This was quickly followed by a grunt from Loyd, as my mom redoubled her effort in his lap. Her head was moving steadily up and down in his lap, almost taking all of it down her throat. I couldn’t see much behind her veil of hair, but it was very clear what was gong on.

My dick was as hard as it had ever been right then. I had seen my mom suck cock before. I had seen her get fucked before. But I had never, ever seen it so close. Not had I ever seen it while she was aware that I was watching! I felt both angry and humiliated, because she was mine! My mom! She should have been making me a late night snack or consoling me on my argument with my friends. Instead she was out here with some guy sucking his dick.

And yet, my dick was still rock hard. I still couldn’t look away. Before I knew it, I was reaching over my jeans and rubbing my dick while trying to get a glimpse of what was going on with her mouth. I happened to glance up at Loyd’s face, and was more than a little surprised to find him staring at me. Staring at me with this almost haughty, domineering smile. It was clear even to me then, that he got off on showing off to others. Especially to me. He clearly loved the idea of openly displaying my mom and her slutty wishes to her son. \

When he noticed me looking at his eyes, he glanced down and saw my problem. With a small chuckle, Loyd reached and gathered her hair, before putting it securely behind her ear. Then with a wink at me, he withdrew his hand from her skirt and gave her a serious smack on the ass!

“Come on Ade, suck me harder! Give the boy a show here!”, his voice echoed throughout the living room, but I’m not even sure could comprehend half of it. She was clearly into the action, but from what I could see, her eyes were glazed over and her face was damn near slack. Never the less, she stared moaning more and taking longer sucks, pulling all the way back to luck furiously at his head while stroking the shaft hard.

I almost couldn’t believe it. Seeing this up close was amazing. My hips were twitching against my denim covered hand while I stared so intently I don’t think I’d have noticed a nuclear blast occurring right outside.

Loyd let out an impressive moan of his own as he reached down and gathered my mothers hair in a sort of pseudo ponytail, gently pushing her face down an inch or so. Then he’d pull her back up, and do it again. He was whispering to her as well, I could still hear, but it very clear his words were meant for her.

“You’re a naughty little thing aren’t you, sucking my cock with your son not 5 feet away. Oh shit, use your tongue like that more. You love this don’t you? Being shown off like the eye candy you are. Ugh. Yeah. Do it. Do it now.

While he continued whispering to her and practically fucked her mouth, my hand had been going over driving in my lap. I didn’t want to jack off in front of my mom, just in case she came to her senses. It didn’t really matter though, I was so hot at this point that when my mom managed to get his entire cock down her throat, I came. I came so hard I actually had come “jump” a millimeter or so as it flooded my jeans, leaving a nasty wet spot right on my crotch, going all the way to my lower right thigh.

It wasn’t the only one turned on though. Loyd has been watching me just as intently as I was watching them, and he came as well. It was very clearly just as intense for him as it was for me. He let out a long, rolling moan with one hand clenching on the side of the couch, the other hold my moms hair hard and pushing her face into his lap.

Things got very quiet after that for a second. All you could hear was the heavy breathing of Loyd and myself, and the lucking/slurping sounds of my mother as she cleaned off his cock.

With the arousal gone for me however, all that was left was embarrassment, anger, and a little bit of shame. I reached down to grab my bag from the sleepover, and slowly stood up while doing my best to look everywhere but at my mother. Just as I started to walk down the hall, Loyd called out to me.

“Hey John! Good night, get some rest man. You look exhausted!” He said it with the same shit eating grin on his face that he’d had when I walked in on my mother sucking his cock. At that time, I didn’t know if I wanted to thank him, or kill him.

End of Story 1, History and Loyd.

Just in case any of you were wondering this was an incredibly rare experience even for me. I very much doubt my mother would have done it without the drugs, and she didn't remember (or so she claims, but I believe her on this) anything about me from that night. Didn't stop her from continuing her drug habit though (luckily/unluckily for me depending on your perspective.

I'd be happy to answer any questions or take constructive criticism. I know my writing isn't all that hot, but I'm trying.


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Re: True stories from my past: My mom

Post by Guest on Tue May 30, 2017 2:00 pm

Hi Nonita

Thanks alot for sharing this with us. I know it couldn't have been easy but in a way I bet putting those feelings and emotions into words was therapeutic for you.

Your writing's fine, better than mine anyway! Can't wait to hear more from you.

But for now, just a few questions

1. Are you from Greece or Greek American?

2. Was your mom ever slutty around your friends/boys your age or just her boyfriends?

3. Did your mom ever show signs she cared about how you felt towards her behavior?



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Re: True stories from my past: My mom

Post by Nonita on Tue May 30, 2017 7:12 pm

1. Are you from Greece or Greek American?

Greek American. My family came to the US in the '60s after the (Greek) civil war following WWII. As a result, our family is very, very close knit, even now. If you've ever seen the move "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". our family is actually like the one portrayed in the movie. Family businesses? Yep. Everyone lives very close together? Sure. Family parties with hundreds of people? Not only does this actually happen, they're extremely common. Vacations are almost always a family affair. It's so ridiculous that my first kiss and "relationship" was with my cousin. And it was completely okay/considered normal, because the only other people our age that us kids/teens would interact with outside school are family members.

Of course, this could sometimes act as a double edged sword as well. My mothers activities did not remain private for long, and you can imagine how mortifying it was as her son to hear aunts and uncles discussing her when they thought I wasn't around/couldn't hear them.

2. Was your mom ever slutty around your friends/boys your age or just her boyfriends?

At first it was just her dates and boyfriends, but eventually she started acting slutty around my friends as well. Especially as I got older. By the time I was 16 I stopped having friends over at all, because her behavior would follow a reliable pattern. When she got off work she'd start drinking/using whatever her drug of choice was at that particular time. The deeper it got into the evening, the looser she'd get in her behavior.

It took a few bad situations before I learned to simply not have people over if she wasn't at work. I'm not going to go into details now, because at least one of those situations is gong to be fleshed out and posted here.  

I will say however that sometimes I look back at those times and thank God on my knees that camera phones and social networking did not exist at the time.

3. Did your mom ever show signs she cared about how you felt towards her behavior?

Not really, no. Whenever I brought up the subject, she would get incredibly defensive and angry. Looking back, I think she might have felt guilty about actions, but was either unwilling or unable to change. If I did by some miracle get answer out of her about it, her replies would range from "I'm a grown woman and I have needs too!", to "Fuck you, my sex life isn't any of your concern".

Your writing's fine, better than mine anyway! Can't wait to hear more from you.

Thanks, but lets be honest and call a spade a spade. My original post was pretty bad. I wrote it while half asleep after being awake for 3 days straight.  The next post (oh which I have no idea when it'll release because I'm unsure if people are interested), will be much better. At the least I'll run it by some basic spell and grammar checks before uploading it.


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Re: True stories from my past: My mom

Post by RoamingCat on Thu Jun 01, 2017 11:29 pm

I have read like 10% of this and even the intro seems like a great idea.

I would love to do something like this in the future, I had saw so many fucked up things happen growing up with my alcoholic single mother..... great idea, great format, may use in the future, willl definitely read this thread.

While this fetish isn't completely my thing, it's pretty close. The bully thing I can take or leave, but a son finding out his mom is a slut, or actually seeing the action is what gets me going. Almost certainly because I saw this from my mother many times as a kid and teen.

That is so me. Glad I checked this thread.

For many or even most of you, the stuff you read on this forum is just fantasy. For me, it was reality

This speaks to me on a very profound level like nothing ever has.

I will say however that sometimes I look back at those times and thank God on my knees that camera phones and social networking did not exist at the time.
My mothers activities did not remain private for long, and you can imagine how mortifying it was as her son to hear aunts and uncles discussing her when they thought I wasn't around/couldn't hear them.
her behavior would follow a reliable pattern. When she got off work she'd start drinking/using whatever her drug of choice was at that particular time. The deeper it got into the evening, the looser she'd get in her behavior.


That's so unbelievably close to my experiences, and by close I mean almost to the 100% mark.

Not really, no. Whenever I brought up the subject, she would get incredibly defensive and angry. Looking back, I think she might have felt guilty about actions, but was either unwilling or unable to change. If I did by some miracle get answer out of her about it, her replies would range from "I'm a grown woman and I have needs too!", to "Fuck you, my sex life isn't any of your concern".


Wow..... the parallels are uncanny.

The only difference is, my mother loved to drink and only took drugs when she was too drunk to object an offer which means she rarely did. Booze was her DOC, and she was terrible at handling it. But regardless, the parallels between our lives are incredibly high.

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Re: True stories from my past: My mom

Post by roymilflover on Fri Jun 02, 2017 9:43 pm

Thanks for sharing this. You write good so don't worry about that. I hope you continue writhing i like it, and want to hear more.

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Re: True stories from my past: My mom

Post by Nonita on Mon Aug 07, 2017 3:25 pm

Besides for a quick spell check this is unedited, I wrote it during a meeting at work and wanted to see how it played. More explanations follow in regards to the first chapter. As I said before, this did happen, so don't expect much of the typical ntr fetish stuff. Even in completely fucked up familial relationships, that shit is fucked up ha ha.

Hey guys, I’m back after a rather long break. I kept trying to get out the next chapter in my little life story, but I seem to have embarrassed myself and shot my load too soon so to speak. I’ll go into more detail in this next chapter, but to make it clear-My mother never knowingly “involved” me in her sex life in such a way again. That doesn’t mean her libido disappeared or that any of the things I’ve hinted at prior didn’t happen, but I believe even she was disturbed by what happened. I’m very sure that if she had been sober and not strung out on whatever combination of drugs that she was using, the situation would have taken a very different turn indeed.

In any case, don’t expect anything like that again. There is no incest in this story besides my own voyeurism and the embarrassment caused by her actions. Well, that and my first “relationship”, which was more awkward and silly teenage kissing between cousins than anything else.

So, as an apology for my abrupt disappearance I’ve decided to write about two different occasions that  were both a complete turn on and absolutely infuriating at the same time. Somehow I think this audience will appreciate them.

For the second time though, this is fair warning. There are no “traditional” bullies (my age at least) involved in either these or anything else I may write. I got teased a fair bit when I was younger, but I was well known for my temper and was lucky enough to have genuine friends who would back me up no matter what. I just never really had to deal with physical bullying, or even really intimidation. I don’t even know how I could possibly go about writing it, some of the common tropes put on the “wimp” character in fictional stories in this fetish are the exact opposite of me as a person.

So, now that the boring explanations are out of the way; I present my fucked up mom.

Chapter 2: The Fourth Of July

I was twelve when this took place. I remember that exactly, because my birthday is the second of July, to this took place only two days after. My mother was between boyfriends at the time, and I thought that meant I might have her all to myself this week. My grandparents had offered to take me with them on their trip to Florida for my birthday, but I’d decided to stay home with mom. When I was younger, before my mother started dating the abusive prick (and before his oh so tragic death) we used to make a week out of that time of summer. My mom would take time off work, she’d go through the trouble of setting up a fun birthday party for me, inviting all my friends to stay the night. Then everyone would go home for the night, and we’d all meet up at the local park near our houses to celebrate Independence Day.

We’re not talking about a small park though, which is why it’s almost always packed tight on a holiday like the Fourth. it was almost surprising how well hidden this park was considering it was right off a subdivision. The park consisted of a fairly decent sized lake in the middle of everything. Not large enough for motorized boats, but at least several miles around, with a dedicated beach and swimming area on one side. The swimming area wasn’t exactly oversized, but it was large enough for several hundred people to be in with room to spare. Further down the beach was a small pier for fishing, and an  area to rent paddle boats for use in the non swimming area.

Off to the side of the beach were several play areas for children, and several different kinds and sizes of swings, some of which could even fit adults. The pride and joy for all us younger people at the time was the “Trampo-Swing”, which looked just as ridiculous as it sounds. A small trampoline, about the size of two personal exercise trampolines you’d expect to find in a gym, connected to a large overhead rail by 4 stretchy cords that almost resembled bungee cords. With some coordination and a couple strong pushers, it was  easy for the rider/jumper to get some real air on that thing.

Surrounding all of this were a series of picnic tables, maybe 30 in total, some separated into single tables for small families, others pushes together to accommodate larger parties.

And finally, surrounding all of this were miles and miles of woods. Paths crossed throughout the interior of course, but if you didn’t visit often it was quite easy to get lost there. Luckily, Anthony and I (the aforementioned best friend from last chapter) had grown up going in and out of that park, and knew ever inch of it by heart. We’d been told to go early and make sure to sign up a couple tables and umbrellas out before they were all taken. Well, I’d been told at least. Anthony hadn’t had a clue until I’d shown up at his house at six in the morning wondering what the hell I was doing there so early.

<Flashback: 4:30 AM>

I jerked awake abruptly as something soft and insistent poked at my back.

“Hey, wake up sleepyhead!”

I gave a grunt back, not even bothering to turn over. I loved my mom, but this was crazy. “Moooom! it’s still dark out!”, I cried  back at her. I curled over the other way and let out a pitiful grunt. “Five more minutes, please!”

I let out a little sigh of relief and I heard her slowly walking away. Until I head the water turn on in the bathroom across the hall though. That made me stiffen up immediately. There was only one reason she’d be doing tha-


With an incredibly manly (really!) squeal, I threw myself out of bed so fast the freezing water only managed to catch my exposed armpit as I dived wanna-be military style for cover behind the other side of the bed.

“I’m not playing mister! When I say it’s time to get up, it’s time to get up! Now go wash up and get breakfast, we’ve got to start getting ready!”

I risked a glance at her when I trudged by though, and could make out the smile she was trying to hide. I gave her a grin of my own before lazily saluting and switching to a dash into the bathroom before she could hit me with the ice cold water again.

It didn’t take me long to clean up and get at least somewhat presentable. A quick scrub of my body and teeth later, and all that was left was my hair and clean clothes. I gave myself a good luck In the mirror before absentmindedly reaching up into the cupboard  for the hairbrush.

I frowned as I came back empty handed. Now that was weird, I always keep my hairbrush there. I have to, otherwise mom will tear apart my room looking for it when she loses her own. I was just about to open the door and call to her about it, when I noticed her purse sitting on the floor besides the sink. That stopped me cold.

My mom was mostly a pretty calm person, but she had rules. One of her rules was that a man was to never go into a womans purse, no matter what. Something about that being a womans special place. At five I had asked her naively “Like your heart?”, which had gotten me a face full of laughter and then a long lecture about how some things were private.

I glanced at the purse again before deciding to try one more time. Being very careful, I inched my way onto the space between the sink and the walkway, so I could see into the very top shelf of the cupboard.  

Extra soap, shampoo, eww, tampons. But no hairbrush. Getting down, my eyes were immediately drawn back to that purse. She probably borrowed my brush and put it in there without even thinking about it. What could honestly be the harm in taking it back?

I shot a furtive look at the bathroom door before grabbing the purse and holding even more still than Indiana Jones after he swapped the Idol out in Raiders of The Lost Ark.

Sighng softly when mom didn’t through the door with a shotgun, I resisted to the urge to smack myself.    “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna die a virgin because of a damn heart attack!” I hissed to myself. I still hadn’t taken one eye off the door knob.

Laughing a bit at my own shitty joke, I just took in the purse for a second. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom outside the house without it. I guess it makes sense, it’s huge! She could practically fit all the picnic supplies in the damn thing and still have room for desert.

I glanced at the mirror again, confirming that my hair still looked like it been home to a family of birds in the night. Rolling my eyes, I reached for the foremost zipper and took a look inside. Nope, just a bunch of makeup. Never to fear though, there had to be at least 20 more compartments to look in.

I was 5 minutes and 3 zippers into the search before II encountered something kind of bulky and wide. Definitely not her hairbrush. Pulling it out revealed her cell phone. Well her work cellphone, she didn’t have a personal one. Almost no one did, they cost an arm and a leg. Her job had sprung for her to get a work cellphone just in case though, when she got permission to work from home.

Why was it in her purse though? She never carried the thing around unless she absolutely had to work. They only got it for her so they could convince her to work when she was off hours, or at least that’s what she always told me.

I looked at the phone for a second in my hand, before glancing at the door again nervously. I knew I definitely did not want to be caught like this. Going into her purse was already bad enough, playing with her work phone though? I wouldn’t just be grounded on the Fourth this year, I’d probably be confined to my room for the next one too!

But...I couldn’t just put it back. I’d wanted to see what it was like since forever. She wouldn’t even let me touch it normally, and the idea of actually holding a cell phone, maybe even use one...Wow. That was so cool. I knew for a fact that none of my friend had a cell phone, probably hadn’t even touched one.

Mind made up, I grinned to myself before cracking the bathroom door and calling down the hallway


I snapped the door shut before she could get a word in edgewise, and reached into the bathtub to turn on the water at random, before activating the sprayer and pulling the curtain closed so I didn’t soak everything.

Then I sat down on the toilet, pulled the phone out, and eagerly hit the power button.

Only to be met with a surge of disappointment when nothing happened. Maybe the battery was dead? Or did I need to hit something else? No, wait!

“You dumbass” I muttered to myself, pushing and holding the red power button. I couldn’t believe I’d almost missed that. I’d only seen mom use the phone a hundred times.

I held the phone to my ear in anticipation, only mildly disappointed when the “ding ding ding” sound stopped playing and nothing else happened. Summoning every little scrap of knowledge I had on the phone, thinking back to every time I’d seen mom use it, I made myself calm down before turning it back over in my hands and giving both the screen and the keypad my utmost attention.

The screen was this tiny little black and white square with the word “Nokia” labeled right above it  in what almost looked like shitty stenciled colored pencil white. The screen hadn’t changed at all since I’d started observing it, and there wasn’t anymore noise coming out of the speaker.

Deciding to go for broke, I reached over and pushed a key at random, the large middle white one near the top. It was the only button unlabeled, so I figured that it to do something besides dial a number. I was immediately proven correct when the screen flashed and now instead of black, I had a whit background with 9 little picture-icon things. It almost looked like something you might see on the Windows 3.1 computer we kept in the living room.

It didn’t take me long to find out what icons did what things (for the most part), and soon I had found the games section. I let a silly little grin fall in place as I turned the volume all the way down on the phone and decided to beat mom’s Snake high score.

Or at least I would have, if not 5 minutes later mom hadn’t screamed like a Banshee in heat through the door “JOHN WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU AND ANOTHER HAVE TO GET TO THE PARK OR ALL THE TABLES AND GRILLS WILL BE TAKEN ALREADY! GET A DAMN MOVE ON!”

Her voice was both loud enough to make me jump and nearly shrill enough to break the  glass on the mirror. Whether that was her intention or not, she definitely succeded in her first objective. I was up and pretending to dry off at record pace.

“Okay mom, I’m hurrying!”, I called back as loudly as I dared. I didn’t want to risk starting a fight now and having her ask why I didn’t tell her that her purse was in the bathroom.

Just as I was about to put it away though, it started lighting up and buzzing in my hand. I didn’t realize at the time that I’d put it on vibrate function, but I learned quick after that. I glanced between the phone and door twice more before muttering “fuck it” to myself, and opening the text message (not that I knew what it was at the time of course, SMS was brand new then).

It wasn’t a very long message, which was good. It was also good (or perhaps just very lucky) that the phone was a fabled Nokia, otherwise the fall probably would have broken it and gotten me busted.
I could hear mom stomping down the hallway towards the bathroom door. I knew I only had seconds  at this point, not nearly enough to think the message through. Instead I took one last long look at it before turning the phone off and shoving it back into her purse. I placed it back on the ground next to the sink, and settled on just fluffing my hair up with my hands before bolting out, calling behind my back “Love you mom, gotta go, bye!”. I don’t think she noticed that I refused to meet her eyes the entire time I dodged her hug.

<Current Time: 8:10 AM>

I hadn’t said anything about it to Anthony, not yet anyway. I didn’t know what I could say. I’d wanted to brag about finally getting to use mom’s cell phone. That was out of the question  now. Instead I just had that message burned into my head;

U looked great last nite, ur pretty red lips covered in my cum. Cant w8 to give u a real faceful 2day!

Not nearly as far or as much written as I wanted, but there’s only so much you can get done during a meeting before people start asking how many notes you can possibly take on the same shit over and over. Hope you guys liked it.

It’s a bit of a tease I suppose, but I wanted a little longer setup than I’d gone for last time to build up narrative. I’m attempting to build up the sense of unease and dread I felt myself when I found that, and knew there was gonna be a big party for the fourth, with everyone  I knew invited. I hope it comes out that way.

The plan is to finish off this chapter tonight and then to start on another. I don’t need to plan anything out for the next, I’ve been wanting to write that chapter ever since I got the idea to spill about my past like this.

So right now its:

Chapter 1: Introduction to my early life, my mothers change in lifestyle, and showing the limits of my mothers inability to give a shit about anything but her own wants and satisfaction. (Finished, but needs a complete rewrite)

Chapter 2: My 12th Fourth Of July, I gave Florida for this?! (WIP)

Chapter 3: Things get hard, I find out how mom paid rent (Plan is to write, edit, and post it within 3 days)


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Re: True stories from my past: My mom

Post by Nonita on Mon Aug 07, 2017 3:27 pm

By the way, the park I described in this opening chapter still exists in Michigan. I visited last time I was in state a year ago. It's barely changed in almost 30 years. Any guesses?


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Re: True stories from my past: My mom

Post by RoamingCat on Tue Aug 22, 2017 10:38 pm

Nonita wrote:By the way, the park I described in this opening chapter still exists in Michigan. I visited last time I was in state a year ago. It's barely changed in almost 30 years. Any guesses?

Absolutely no idea.

I'd be more interested if that story had a hint of truth to  it like the previous one or if it was fictional. This one seemed a lot more workshopped.

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Re: True stories from my past: My mom

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