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My second year of junior college, my friends were living in a rental duplex in the neighborhood most of us grew up in. It was like 3 bedrooms and we crammed 9 guys in there. It was worse when the other guys were in relationships too because I was never comfortable lying in bed, trying to sleep, while some hottie bit her lip trying not to moan as she got finger banged. Sometimes I’d walk in and just them making out would make me turn around, get in the car, and go for a long drive.
That was when I got in an accident.
I don’t remember any of it. The other driver had T-boned me after, according to him, I ran a red light. But I was the slow, patient driver that braked on yellow. And he had five wrecks. Insurance did most of the work and there was one witness who said the other guy was speeding and that alone made him responsible and I didn’t have to pay.
But I also didn’t have a car for a few months while the court case was being fought. My insurance didn’t get me a rental either. Thanks, Obama.
Only one other guy had a car in the house and we couldn’t all fit so…
My mom drove us.
She lived just four blocks away and she was a cool, stay-at-home mom. Most of the guys knew her since elementary school when she chaperoned field trips and when we got to hanging out in high school, she’d never bust us for sneaking a few drinks during poker games in the basement. That first she came down for frozen pizzas, we freeze, waiting for trouble, yelling, a lecture, a look, anything. But she never mentioned it. By senior year, we didn’t even pretend to hide our Solo cups. And the guys liked her, joking the way guys do about my hot mom, her fake tits (no proof of that!), and how she’d get dressed up for giving us a ride to school while we were in ripped jeans and faded T-shirts. She wanted it, they were sure, and sometimes they’d flirt, “Looking nice, Mrs. Stevens. New perfume?”
But there’s still something about being in college, on crutches, and having my mom drop me off at school that I couldn’t get over. The car rides were quiet.
She had a mini-van and the guys in back would whisper and giggle and I’d hear, “Would you rather…” then a bunch of text alerts and my phone would vibrate and I’d look and it’d be like two photos of porn stars covered in jizz that I’d avert from my mom’s view.
Everyone would respond to the group text and if I didn’t, I’d get ragged on so I’d pick.
On our drive home from class, this kid Blake sent one that made me turn around and go, “Really?!”
He’d sent, “For half a million dollars, would you rather get fucked in the ass or in the mouth? Both to completion. Like inside.”
Everyone had pretty much the same reaction, calling him gay, refusing to answer. He swore that was the game, two awful choices and you had to pick one.
“What’d this one say?” My mom asked. She was smart enough to know the game they were playing.
“Forget it,” I said. The drive was slow. A lot of crosswalks with students that never paused.
“I want to play. It seems like you’re all having fun.”
“They like it because it makes me uncomfortable. Assholes.”
“Let her play!” all the guys chimed in.
“So would you rather…” She paused to think, tapping on the steering wheel. “Asparagus or broccoli?”
The guys all laughed.
“That’s not really the game,” I said.
“I’m just warming up! And it’s practical. I thought I’d make you boys something with vitamins. Keep you fitting into clothes and looking good.”
“It’s got to be two tough choices,” I said.
“This wasn’t a game when I was a kid,” she told us.
“It’s got to be something awful or sexual or maybe two options so good that it’s tough to choose either,” Gabe said.
“It’s not really something I want to play with my mom.”
“Give me an example. What’d Blake ask?”
There was a silence at a light as everyone looked around at who’d man up and say it.
“Anal or oral,” Blake said.
The light turned green in the silence and the car revved up. “Both,” she said.
“Oh god,” I groaned.
The boys cheered like mad. “Yeah, Mrs. Stevens!”
“What? They’re both fun if you’re in the mood.”
“Kill me,” I muttered. She smacked my leg playfully.
“Blake asked that?” she said, looking in the rearview. Blake was in the middle of the bench seat in back between Tommy and Michael. “All right, then Blake, would you rather jerk off Tommy or Michael?”
The two guys in the pilot seats, Gabe and Louis, turned and laughed and high-fived as Blake just shook his head and Tommy and Michael looked out the window, inching away from Blake.
“I answered yours! Let’s hear yours? Or you going to say ‘Both’ too?” She was a devil of a woman.
“I don’t know… Michael looks like a virgin so he’d probably finish quickest.”
There was a chorus of “Ew!” “Gay.” “Gross, dude.” And Michael was adamant he’d made it with like twenty girls last week.
“Sure, Mike,” Mom said, giggling, teasing.
“All right, all right. Um…” He was desperate to get her back, but all of this was really just an attack on me. “Who would you rather?”
“Between Mike and Tommy?”
“Between all of us.”
She thought about it as she turned “I thought these were supposed to be tough choices.”
I wasn’t sure where we were. It was a cornfield, which were common around her, but usually just on one side. We were surrounded and the only buildings in front were grain silos and farm houses and there wasn’t any traffic coming our way or tailing us.
“Do you have a choice?” Mike asked.
She pulled over into a shaded spot. “The only tough part about this is having to choose at all.”
“Whoa, hold on,” I said.
Mom undid her seatbelt and as it went up, so did her sundress letting her bare, bouncing breasts hang out. I’ll never forget her tan marks.
She got in back before the guys knew what to do and she was on her knees between Gabe and Louis and one hand was fumbling with both zippers. “One of you better get up here and fill my mouth.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve done the math. There’s enough room for everyone in every hole and every hand.”
“Mrs. Stevens,” Michael said, unsure. But Blake undid his pants and stepped up and slid his uncircumcised cock in her mouth, putting his hands on her head. She went down deep on him then came off, licking his shaft to his tip.
She’d gotten Gabe’s and Louis’s pants undone and told them to take them off. “Who wants which hole? We got a pussy and an ass that needs filling and Blake can’t do it all himself.”
“I’ll take pussy,” Louis said, trembling.
“So Gabe gets the ass. Don’t worry about hurting me. John,” she said to me licking up Blake’s shaft again. “Open the glove compartment and get Gabe some lube. Always use lube boys. A lot of it.”
I couldn’t. I was frozen.
My mom, topless and in a thong and strappy heels, bent over my friend’s cock with four others out, ready to get stroked, sucked, and fucked. I couldn’t aid this. But I couldn’t leave either.
“John!” she snapped. But she was impatient for her fucking and got up to shuffle on her knees to the glove box for her lube. KY.
“Okay, boys,” she said. “Some rules first. No telling anyone about it, but you should all be taking videos and photos. You’re not in charge. I am. You stop when I say, not after, definitely not before. All those cocks are going to get drained. When you need to finish, on my face, chest, ass, stomach, hands, wherever, but not inside me. On me. And please, call me ‘Mom.’”
She adjusted the rearview so I could see, if I wanted. I peeked. Then watched. Getting aroused. Wanting it too. Wanting her to be anyone else’s mom or my stepmom or a stranger. But she wasn’t. She was my mom. And I watched my friends fuck fill both holes, her mouth. She jerked them slowly, then quickly, asking them if they wanted to cum, then stopping to edge a bigger cumshot out of them. She switched people at will. There was a lot of bumping around and at one point she was getting railed by just Blake in the ass and she was right by me and she kept looking up, smiling at me, licking her lips.
The guys would shoot cum on her face and it’d drip off as they kept fucking her. When they had finished once, she made them keep going. I think each finished three times and she tried milking more out. She was dripping. And smiling.
“Okay, let’s all get out so we can get dressed more easily.”
The boys all filed out of the van, listening to her. But she slid the door closed.
“It’s our turn, baby,” she said and kissed me with cummy lips. “I saw you watching. I know you wanted a turn. Well now I’m all yours.”
The windows were tinted and the guys couldn’t see what was happening but they tried to open the doors and peek in but since the car was off, they knew they weren’t stranded at least.
Meanwhile, Mom led me to the back where she sat on me, kissing me, letting their cum drip off her face, pressing her jizzed on breasts against my bare chest. It was gross…but I liked it.
She pulled my cock out and slowly gyrated her hips as she slid it inside her. She was in complete control.
And I loved it.
She went slow at first. It was my first time, whether she knew or not, and she treated me lovingly, kissing me as she sank onto me. Asking if I liked it like this. Asking me if I was ready for more? For faster? For harder?
“Yes,” I moaned.
“I love you,” she said.
And she didn’t stop until I finished inside her.
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When she let them back in the car, Blake wanted more but she was cleaned up, clothed, and not in the mood. He tried to force it but I sat him down. It was a quiet ride home. Mom stole glances at me, little smiles. I had them too.
Then she pulled up to our house. Our other roommates were out so we all went inside and mom got started on cooking us broccoli and fried rice and a good home-cooked meal.
And for dessert, Blake had to watch the rest of us and her and he never got that special by himself moment with Mom like I did.
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Let me know if you'd be interested in a whole blog dedicated to these erotic fantasies I have.
