Sex with my Mother's Best Friend
Not only did he have sex with his mother but also, Henry had sex with his mother's best friend, Maureen, too.
This is something that I highly recommend, especially if your mother's best friend is as much of a MILF as is your mother. For all of you men who are sexually attracted to your mothers, wish you could have sex with her, but just can't sexually seduce her, instead, have sex with her best friend. Trust me, having sex with your mother's best friend, with her knowing so much about your mother, especially if they look a little alike, will nearly be like having sex with your mom or, with her sister, your aunt.
Then, again, if you can't bring yourself to having sex with your mother, have sex with her sister, your aunt. Trust me, with many women over 50-years-old whores, not only will you get lucky by having sex with your mother's best friend, and your aunt but soon, once they get talking, you'll be having sex with your mother, too. In case you've forgotten, there's always your wife's mother, your mother-in-law to seduce. She may have sex with you, too.
Then, desperate measures for desperate times, there's always your grandmother. Think about it, if you're horny and sexually frustrated enough, grandma may start to look good. Especially with her big, sagging breasts, wouldn't you love to see her tits, feel her tits, and fondle her tits while sucking her erect nipples?
###
"I love you, grandma," I said to my topless grandmother.
She made a face.
"Shut up and eat my pussy. Then, fuck me. Fuck your mother's mother," said my grandmother mashing my face in her bushy, gray haired pussy.
I couldn't believe that I was having sex with my grandmother. I not only masturbated her pussy but also I ate her pussy. If that wasn't enough, I made love to my grandmother. Then, I fucked her.
Not thinking that she would, as many women from her generation didn't do oral sex, she stroked my cock while sucking my cock. My GILF of a grandmother blew me. She not only allowed me to cum in her elderly mouth but also, she swallowed my cum.
Now that I gave you something to think about, do it. Just do it. Sexually seduce your mom's best friend.
I dare you to have sex with your mother's best friend. I dare you to have sex with your aunt. I dare you to have sex with your mother. No, I double dare you. You've been double dared to have sex with your mother's best friend, your aunt, and your mother.
###
After losing my beloved wife, Justine, I had drunken sex with my 52-year-old mother, Caroline, on the day of her funeral. May God forgive me. If it wasn't enough that I was drunk on that fateful day, I had sex with my mother.
'What's wrong with me,' I thought? 'That's so fucked up. I can't believe I had sex with my mother.'
I'm a 26-year-old man and I not only had sex with my mother but also, much later, I had sex with her 52-year-old best friend, Maureen. Doomed to repeat my inappropriate sexual actions, unable to help myself, I love having sex with women twice my age. I love having sex with women who are old enough to be my mother. While pretending that I'm having sex with my mother, I love calling them mommy.
"Suck my cock, mommy. I need to cum in your mouth," I've said to more than one older woman who was old enough to be my mother.
###
Nothing new and as far back as I can remember, I've always been sexually attracted to older women, especially older, busty women. There's just something about older women with big tits that sexually attracts me more than women my age do. There's something about big breasted women, the bigger her breasts the better, that makes me horny and stiffens my cock.
Clearly, they are more mature than their younger counterparts. More educated in the ways of the world, they're more intelligent than younger women. More engaging, they have much more interesting things to discuss. With older woman readily available and consensually willing, why would I want a younger woman when I can have my pick of nearly any older woman I want?
The only way for me to deal with the death of my wife, and the only way for me to cope with my loss on the day of her funeral, I got drunk. My wife, Justine, was the love of my life and I loved her. I truly loved her. Before she could no longer have children, we talked about having a child. No matter if it was a boy or a girl, it wouldn't matter. We didn't care which we had. We wanted to have one child to celebrate our union.
My name is Henry but no one calls me Henry except for my mother. I'm 26-years-old. My friends all call me Hank. My friend, who recently returned from a Paris vacation with his wife, thinks that he's funny and more worldly now calls me Henri (lol).
###
Sadly, and tragically, too young to be taken from me, my 44-year-old wife, Justine, was killed in a car crash. She was driving home from work and fell asleep at the wheel. She slammed into a tree. Even though she was wearing her seatbelt with her doors locked, but with her crashing into an immovable object, her deployed airbag was unable to save her.
Why can't they make passenger cars in the way that they make Indy cars? No doubt, making passenger cars out of carbon fiber would be hugely expensive but the cost would be reduced when making millions of cars. Granted, crashing into a wall, with the force of impact spread across the entire front of the car instead of just one point, is much less deadly than slamming into a tree or a pole. Yet, the Indy cars crash at 230 miles an hour instead of 55 miles an hour and the driver survives the crash, most times without injuries.
Helping me through my grief, my mother graciously offered her house for the guests to offer their condolences after the funeral. Once everyone left, alone with my mother, we cleaned up her house, and put all of the food away. That much I remember. Everything else is a fog.
The last thing that I remember is sitting on the couch in the living room with my mother. I remember being so sad. I remember crying. With my head resting on her enormous breasts, I remember her holding me and comforting me. Then, not remembering if I kissed her or if she kissed me, I remember making out with my mother.
Something that I've always wanted to do and have masturbated myself over imagining doing, I always wanted to make out with my mother. While kissing her, French kissing her, I remember her allowing me to feel her breasts through her blouse and her bra. I couldn't believe that I was not only making out with my mother but also, I was feeling her breasts through her clothes.
Shocking me, I remember her feeling my throbbing prick through my pants while returning my French kisses with her deep, wet kisses. Seemingly, she wanted to make out with me as much as I wanted to make out with her. Seemingly, she wanted to feel me through my clothes as much as I wanted to feel her through her clothes. Making out with my mother is the last thing that I remember.
###
I got drunk. Only, I didn't know my mother got drunk with me, too. With her keeping pace with me, drink for drink, glad that we got drunk together, I'm glad we didn't get sick. With her hiding our car keys in advance, I'm glad we didn't leave the house and didn't try to drive anywhere.
Fortunately, instead of drinking wine or mixed drinks, we drank single malt scotch neat without ice. I rarely get sick when drinking that. Nevertheless, unable to drive, with me living too far and too drunk to drive, and something that I usually do when visiting her, I stayed overnight at my mom's house.
Only, instead of sleeping in my bed and in my bedroom, something that I always do when spending the night, I awakened naked and slept in my mother's bed. Shocked, I couldn't believe my eyes. She was asleep next to me.
With her sleeping on her back and the covers below her naked breasts, I couldn't believe that I was seeing my mom's naked breasts. I lifted the covers enough to peak beneath them. She was naked, too. Only, too drunk to remember, I slept naked with my naked mother.
'Did we have sex? Did I have sex with my mother,' I wondered? 'Did she have drunken sex with me?'
Having no memory of having sex with her, I didn't know. I couldn't remember. If I had sex with my MILF of a mother, no matter how drunk I was, how could I not remember that?
With her fingers wrapped around my morning wood beneath the covers, I wondered again if we had sex. Truthfully, feeling as if my prick belonged there, her hand felt good holding my cock. Daring myself to do so, but not wanting to awaken her, I wanted to reach over and touch, feel, and fondle her naked breasts while pinching, pulling, turning, and twisting her erect nipples but I didn't dare.
This was my mother. She wasn't some whore that I invited home from a bar. It's one thing to sexually abuse and/or have sex with my mother when drunk but it's something else to touch, feel, and fondle her when I'm sober and she's still sleeping. Nonetheless, unable to remove my eyes from them, I continued staring at her naked breasts.
Something that I wished that I could remember and something that I normally would never forget had I not had too much to drink, I couldn't remember. I couldn't even remember undressing. I wondered if my mother undressed me and put me to bed. Only, I couldn't stop staring at her naked breasts.
###
Not wanting to awaken her but I had to pee. I slowly and stealthily eased myself out of bed. As soon as I stood, and faced the bed with my big erection pointing at my mother, she opened her eyes and smiled.
"Good morning, lover," she said with a big, sexually satisfied smile. "How did you sleep?"
She laughed. Then, raising her big breasts with her arms, she stretched her arms, and yawned. She made no attempt to cover her nakedness with her hands, her forearms or with her bed clothes. Instead, she turned to face me with her humongous breasts hanging out as if they wanted to play.
'Lover,' I thought? 'Oh, oh. Something she's never called me before; my mom called me lover.'
She laughed and smiled while I looked at her horrified that I couldn't remember.
"I haven't slept this soundly since I had sex with your father, God rest his soul," she said anointing herself.
She stretched and yawned again. I stared at her gigantic breasts moving up with her when she raised her arms over her head to stretch again.
