Mom Against Involuntary Celibacy 01

Pushing hands into the foamy yoga mat, Chelsea arched her back and tilted her head backwards. Everyone around her did the same, including the cute instructor out in front. His thick, sculpted arms attracted wistful looks from many attendants of this all-female yoga class.

Chelsea allowed herself a glance or two as well. She wasn't nearly as blatant as her friend on the other mat, who practically devoured the young hunk with her gleaming, hungry eyes. The slender brunette brought her chin towards her generously exposed cleavage, a smoldering gaze from under her long eyelashes fixed unerringly on the handsome stud.

"Kelly!" Chelsea scolded her in a loud whisper. "Did you forget again that you're married?"

"Hmph! Maybe I would remember it better if Dave wasn't always at work," she said, referring to her perennially absent husband. "I bet he's banging that huge-breasted secretary of hers, so why shouldn't I --"

"Because our Colin here has a

girlfriend,"

an auburn-haired woman chimed in from behind them, as she followed Colin's instruction to bend her spine the other way now. "And I hate to say it but I saw that chick on the treadmill the other day, and she's clearly hotter than either of us."

"Oh really? And how does Chelsea fare in this comparison?"

The redhead scoffed with a smirk. "As if you had to ask! You know there is no competition. With those big knockers and that perfect wide ass, Chelsea would wrap Colin around her finger if she so much as winked at him!"

"Miranda!" the woman in question exclaimed, a blush coming over her face. "Don't say silly things like that!"

Chelsea's cheeks got even redder when she realized that several people around them stared at her and squinted disapprovingly. Her sudden outburst was thankfully the only part of their hushed conversation that reached the onlookers' ears. It also meant she bore the brunt of other women's silent judgments, which were no doubt mixed with an unhealthy dose of envy, as they all had a good look at Chelsea's smoking hot body.

The awkward moment lasted only a few seconds, for a timid voice came from the back of the small studio.

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I know I'm late!... Excuse me... Thank you..."

"Mrs Richardson," said the instructor, smiling at the flustered woman. "I'm glad you could join us. Your friends left you a spot right there." He pointed at the mat next to Miranda.

"Hey, Courtney," the woman greeted her friend with a grin. "Bad traffic?"

"Yeah, I wish it was just that," her taller friend replied with a sigh. She got on her hands and knees, pushing her shapely ass up as she assumed the downward dog position.

The rest of the class passed without incident. About half an hour later, Chelsea and her friends thus found themselves in the gradually emptying studio. They had their eyes on Kelly, who kept casting longing glances at the instructor and his strapping, enticingly muscular physique.

"Good job today, ladies," he told them, flashing a polite smile. "See you all next week as always?"

"Sure!" they all replied, while Kelly gave him a wink and a coquettishly pawing wave.

As he left, after reminding them that the next class started in fifteen minutes, the group's attention eventually shifted to the latecomer Courtney.

She was a statuesque, well-built, very fit yet pretty modest woman, who had her long brown hair braided in a thick ponytail. Like her friends she was in her thirties, albeit closer to three-O -- as opposed to four-O -- than Kelly and especially Chelsea. She would get her fair share of attention from the opposite sex, which, as it turned out, was one of the reasons for her late arrival.

"Here, at the gym?" Miranda asked with a frown. "Some pricks were leering at you when you walked by?"

Courtney shook her head. "No. Well, yes. But they weren't just looking. I mean, we're all kinda used to guys stealing glances at us, right? Chelsea in particular..." She looked at the shorter blonde, whose cheeks were once again flush with coy redness. "Nothing wrong with it, I say, and it's not like we are completely innocent in this regard either."

Everyone looked at Kelly, who responded with an exasperated eye roll. "Shut it, okay?"

"Anyway, these guys," Courtney continued, "they, uh, they didn't just look or stare. Heck, I would take getting called a hot babe or whatever, because they were clearly just dumb eighteen- or nineteen-year-olds. But when I walked by the benches, one of them actually reached with his hand -- and he was laying down, and lifting a dumbbell with his other hand -- he reached out and fucking slapped me on the butt!"

"Jesus!" Miranda gasped, along with the other two women. "That's way beyond creepy! What the hell?! I'm so, so sorry, Courtney!"

Everyone agreed, nodding their heads solemnly. They offered both their sympathy and outrage, giving their friend warm hugs and adding their own exclamations and flowery expletives.

"So," Chelsea eventually said, "what did you do? You told the staff, right?"

"I did," Courtney replied, struggling but ultimately succeeding to hold back tears. "Discreetly, of course... And they handled it well, all things considered, because like a minute later this huge massive guy approached those dumb kids and immediately kicked them out. I've been told they had their memberships revoked, and they won't be able to sign up again -- not here, nor at any other Push-Up Gym in the country."

"Good," Miranda said. "Serves them right. The one who slapped you should count himself lucky that you didn't just call the cops and press charges!"

Courtney shook her head. "Too much hassle," she said with sigh. "Besides, I learned that all of them were barely eighteen, still in high school, so I wouldn't feel great if I saddled the brat with an SA on his record."

"Wow! That

is

young! And they're fucking assaulting random women? What the fuck! The hell is wrong with men these days?"

"It's all because of the stupid internet and social media," Kelly piped in, and the group's attention quickly focused on her. "Yeah, it's true... I read about it on WhiteCloud the other day. Apparently, many young men are falling prey to those misogynistic influencers, that turn them into incels who think that women actually

want

to be treated like this!"

"What? Geez, that's awful," Courtney said. "Good on you, Kelly, that you're keeping up with stuff like this. Your boys are like what, nine and ten? They'll be teenagers before you know it, so you really need to make sure they don't see any of this crap on their phones!"

Her friend nodded. "Believe me, I worry about it all the time..."

There was a momentary lull in the conversation, before Miranda picked up a thought that had just popped in her head. "Wait, you said those guys were eighteen? That's how old Chelsea's son is, isn't he?"

All eyes turned to the curvaceous blonde, as she once again got a little flustered. "Uhm, yeah," she said quietly. "Tyler had his birthday a few weeks ago..."

"Better make sure he doesn't fall for this crap either," Kelly said. "I know he's a clever and well-behaved boy, but I don't recall you ever mentioning his girlfriend. Does he have one? It's important for guys his age to date and, well, you know"--she made a gesture with one hand, like a half of scare quotes--"or else they might eventually become incels."

"Incels?" Chelsea asked, her voice tinged with worry. "What is that?"

"Involuntary celibates," she said, this time completing the air quote. "Guys who want to get laid but can't, so they blame women for all their failures. The internet is full of them. They have this weird coded language, with 'Chads' and 'alphas' and 'Stacies' and whatnot, and it's all just a cover-up for their awful misogyny. Why do you think there's all this talk about women getting harassed online, especially in video games? It's all because of incels!"

"Oh! Oh dear, no!" Chelsea sounded genuinely distressed. "That's terrible! I wouldn't forgive myself if Tyler became someone like that!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure your son is smart enough not to fall for such idiotic tripe," Courtney cheered her up. "He would never disrespect a woman, and he certainly isn't like

those

jerks!"

"Well, I hope you're right..."

But despite the reassuring words of her friend, Chelsea remained quite worried. As she drove back from the gym, she kept thinking about her eighteen-year-old son and the state of his love life, such as it was.

She realized it was true: Tyler didn't seem to have much of a success with the opposite sex. She knew he did fancy women, if only by the furtive looks he'd give her friends whenever they came over, so this wasn't the case of a lack of sexual interest. The content of his trash can, on the rare occasions when he forgot to empty it himself, would readily confirm this fact through some very abundant, very sticky evidence.

But a girlfriend? No, not really. Not even a hint of one. His only visitors were some decidedly male friends from school, who sometimes came over to play games on the TV console down in the basement.

When she thought about it more, the last time Chelsea had seen any female ask about Tyler was when he got sick with strep throat in ninth grade. Some pale, visibly bored girl with dark hair and a mouth full of chewing gum dropped by to give him the list of topics that the teachers went over in his absence. She didn't even come inside and simply handed the pile of papers to Chelsea, running off as soon the woman had taken it from her bony hands.

"No! Could it be?" the worried mother asked her faint reflection in the windshield. "My Tyler...?"

She shook her head, but it wasn't a sign of denial. Instead, it was an expression of pure, steadfast resolve.

No, Chelsea thought; there was no way this could be allowed to happen. More importantly, there was no way

she

would allow this to happen.

Chelsea decided, right then, that she would do everything to protect her son from the danger of falling into this toxic mindset. No matter what, her only son wasn't going to become one of those horrible, woman-hating incels that Kelly had warned her about.

"I'll be there for you, Ty," she said solemnly. "Your mother won't let you down!"

***

Meanwhile, back home, the young man in question lay on the bed in his room. He was watching a video he found on the internet, playing on his TV, as he wrapped his lubed-up hand around the thick shaft of his fully hard cock.

He sighed. "Ahh, yeah, this is good..."

It was more than good -- this particular video had always been among his favorites. The star was an older, very stacked slut, whose brightly blond hair went well with a pair of massive tits and a large ass. She was on all fours, moaning out breathy and lustful whimpers, while a young and fit guy who was close to Tyler's age pummeled her energetically from behind.

He was going in with deep, steady strokes, confidently driving in his long but not ridiculously huge cock. Fucked like a total slut and a whore, the hot cougar urged him to rail her harder, to fuck her deeper, to give her every inch of his young, hard cock.

And the guy did -- over and over again. And Tyler would've done it, too -- again, and again, and again...

"Fuck! This is so hot," he groaned, furiously stroking his rock-hard erection.

This video had been his favorite for precisely this reason. He could easily picture himself there, taking the guy's place behind this mature, shameless, big-tittied blond bimbo. He would fuck her with the same, nay, with even

bigger

fervor, pounding her experienced slut-pussy with every thrust of his teenage fuck-stick. He would make her scream his name to high heavens, railing her to one orgasm after another, until the seasoned sexpot would beg him to have mercy upon her sore, thoroughly fucked cunt.

Yes, that was what this better, aspirational version of Tyler would do. The real one? Well, he wasn't exactly there yet. But he was working on it, quite diligently in fact, though perhaps not in this very moment of self-indulgent, naked masturbation in his bedroom.

"Fuuuuck!" he cried out, as the first waves of his climax burst forth from his twitching hard-on. He came in many large spurts that splashed over his flat torso. He breathed hard and groaned in intense pleasure, letting his cum shoot freely as he kept on jacking his rampant dick.

As he finished with this satisfying orgasm, Tyler lay back and sighed at the pearly white mess he had just made. He would always come a lot, just like many a horny boy his age, but especially whenever he indulged in his favorite kind of erotic fantasies.

Those that involved hot, older women could get him incredibly aroused in no time. Every time he imagined himself fucking a gorgeous, uninhibited, sexually experienced female twice his age, he would come like a firehose and end up desperately gasping for air.

"Geez, this dude is so lucky," he said, watching the man on the screen, who was still drilling the mature pussy with the same enthusiasm and vigor.

There was no denying it: Tyler had a thing for sexy MILFs and cougars. The interest was obviously very physical. He found their busty and curvaceous bodies much more exciting than the less developed physiques of even the prettier girls he saw at school.

Those younger girls didn't interest Tyler much. Aside from their inferior looks, he found them boring, vapid, and oftentimes quite mean.

Puberty hadn't been very generous to the teenage boy, at least not until somewhat recently. He had received more than his fair share of teasing, mockery, and even outright bullying during his junior and sophomore years. His above-average height had spared him the worst of what high school had in stock for a well-behaved, slightly shy, and a bit nerdy young man like him; but Tyler had nonetheless suffered enough social ostracism to sour his opinion on the appeal of most girls his age.

"Ahh," he sighed again, gripping his cum-covered, still mostly hard cock. He gave it a few leisurely strokes, checking if he could perhaps coax it back to full stiffness.

Not as singleminded in his arousal anymore, the horny teenager didn't pay as much attention to the pornographic scene on the TV. He was less interested in the admittedly hot but out-of-reach porn actress, and instead he was now thinking about some of the very attractive older women who were already part of his daily life.

There was Ms Baker, his stacked neighbor three houses down the street, whose massive bust he would see bounce and sway every morning when he cycled to school. She would always go for a run in a super-tight outfit, the stretchy material hugging her generous curves and barely holding the luscious globes of her breasts.

There was Ms Lopez, his short math teacher, who easily kept all the boys -- and some girls -- intensely focused on the numbers she had written on the smudgy blackboard. She would do so by walking in front of it frequently, dressed in a mid-thigh pencil skirt and a blouse that pushed the limits of modesty required of her by her profession.

There was Mrs Avery, the mother of his friend Logan, whom Tyler would see tanning by their backyard pool whenever he'd go and hang out with him in the summer. It was always difficult not to get caught staring at her voluptuous body, which she flaunted without care in some rather bold, two-piece swimsuits.

There were many others, too, all in their sexual prime. They undoubtedly longed to be fucked by young and virile studs, whose youthful eagerness and boundless appetites would make a perfect match for their mature libidos and experience.

Well, at least that was what Tyler

thought

to be true, based on his extensive research. It included watching many hours of hot MILF porn, as well as reading pages upon pages of lewdly erotic stories on that very same theme.

"Oh yeah," he let out, once again jacking his freshly hardened cock. The action on the screen had since moved on, and now the naked beauty was flaunting all her bountiful curves for the viewer's pleasure, riding her younger partner with an animated and clearly exaggerated flourish. "What a hot fucking slut... Damn!"

Tyler had thus figured out that it should be easy, even for a somewhat withdrawn and timid guy like him, to score with some of the sexy, mature ladies in his area. All he had to do was to take advantage of this late growth spurt he was finally experiencing and parlay it into getting a bit more athletic and fit.

To this end, he'd been regularly using the home gym for quite some time now. He was already rather pleased with the results. His fitter body was not only more attractive now, but it also came with a notable boost to his confidence. He actually got to a point where he was starting to get the attention of some girls in school who'd previously simply ignore him.

But although this wasn't entirely unwelcome, Tyler hadn't been too keen on dating his current classmates. The furthest he had gone with any of them so far was trading math homework help for blowjobs with one of the less stuck-up cheerleaders.

Paige, an ample-chested redhead, would suck him off with nary a complaint, these days even before they'd get to trigonometry or whatever it was she had trouble with. Tyler had a feeling he could eventually cajole her into letting him fuck her as well, if only he cared enough to actually go ahead and try.

In other words, while technically still a virgin, the young man felt like he had promising opportunities and options. He certainly wasn't like one of those pathetic losers who couldn't get laid and did nothing but whine about it on the internet.

Au contraire

-- his tastes were simply more refined, more discerning. He'd gladly pass on those barely legal floozies if it meant he could sink his large cock into a deliciously wet, mature pussy of a drop-dead gorgeous and sexually experienced older woman.

And if Tyler were to be completely honest with himself, there was one such pussy in particular that was of a keen interest to him. Its owner had been a part of his daily life from, well, the very beginning.

"Fuck, fuck... Jesus!" he moaned under his breath, eyes closed, as he furiously stroked his pulsing erection. "Hell yes! Just like that, Mom... Fuck, I'm getting close..."

This was also the

other

reason why he really liked this particular video. The woman who starred in it, who was currently still on top of the young guy and was riding him reverse cowgirl, reminded him quite a bit of his own mother Chelsea.

"Fuck, Mom, you're so fucking hot..."

Except, of course, that his actual mom was way hotter than her.

Tyler didn't suffer this fact gladly. Indeed, he'd been more than a little ashamed of finding his own mother so sexually appealing. But his guilty conscience couldn't have much sway over him -- not when his desires were constantly validated by all his friends, who simply wouldn't stop raving about how stunningly sexy his mom was.

Being her son, it took him some time to finally stop denying that he also found her incredibly hot. It surely helped that even compared to her attractive friends, all upper middle-class suburban housewives or mothers, Chelsea was a few notches higher when it came to the sheer, undeniable sex appeal.

Right now she was probably still in her yoga class, working on that super hot body. Tyler could readily picture it in his mind: clad in a tight outfit, with every flawless curve of her incredible figure perfectly emphasized to drive him crazy with teenage lust.

Those huge, cantaloupe-sized breasts, struggling against the confines of her top. The impossibly narrow waist that spread out into the wide, luscious span of her hips. Those drool-inducing spheres of her ass cheeks, both large and firm, begging to be touched, groped, squeezed, even spanked... And above all her beautiful angelic face, at once both mature and youthful, regarding him -- in this lust-tinged fantasy -- with a loving but mischievously sexy gaze.