My Mother is a MILF 2
That day I felt as if my world to crumble. The atmosphere in the house was heavy, almost unbreathable, and my parents, who used to speak even of the most trivial, just exchanged words. I remember the uncomfortable silence that filled the room, and the gaze of the father, full of a sadness I had never seen before in him. I knew, in the deepest part of my being that this time was different, that something really serious was happening.
Mom had two days without showing up in the house. I had been told that he had gone to live temporarily with her friend Sandra, but nobody explained to me why. When he tried to ask, he received vague answers, as if trying to protect myself from a truth too hard. “Are couple things”, they said, “situations that often pass for adults”. But those words couldn't quell the fear that was installed on my chest, a fear that grew with each hour that mom was not.
The last time I saw her before I left, I hugged her tightly and told me that everything would be okay, that soon we'd be together. But in his voice there was a note of uncertainty that did not correspond with his words. It was then when I first heard the word “divorce”. Mom spoke carefully, almost as if afraid that, to say it aloud, it became more real. Tried to downplay them, making sure everything would remain the same, we would still have a father and a mother, that nothing would change.
But I knew that he was lying, though it was not his intention. There was something definite in that word, something that heralded a before and an after, and as much as they try to convince you that it didn't matter, that it doesn't affect us, I could feel the ground under my feet was changing. I knew that life as she knew it, would never be the same. It was as if a crack had opened in the center of our family, a crack that could not be ignored nor repaired.
Every day that passed, that crack was more evident, more impossible to ignore. My brother and I started to live in a sort of limbo, caught between the hope of a teenager that all would be well and the growing fear that nothing would be the same. We started to notice small changes that, although subtle, were signs of an uncertain future: the clothes of mom that still hung in the closet, but that no longer smelled like her; the way that dad was looking at the dining room table, staring blankly at his own empty; and the nights on the phone sounded more than usual, followed by whispers that went down behind closed doors.
The time that mom was going on at home Sandra is lengthened. What at first seemed to temporary began to feel permanent. Mom kept coming in to see us, with his wry smile and his promises that all was well, but there was a distance in his eyes that had never seen before. It was not the same woman for one month, laughed with my dad in the kitchen, or that us enveloped with songs before sleep.
Dad, for his part, he was immersed in his work. He spent long hours in his office, and when he was in the house, appeared to be present only in body, while his mind was miles away. Sometimes it was in the living room, holding a cup of coffee that never seemed to drink, staring at a wall. When she saw me, she smiled weakly and said that everything would be okay, that he only needed time to work things out. But those words, that in another moment I would have given you solace, now I sounded empty, like an echo far in the distance that was not enough to fill me.
Finally, the day came that mom we met them both in the living room. There was something solemn in his expression, a gravity that made me fear the worst before you even open your mouth. With trembling voice, explained to us that it had taken the decision to divorce. His words were careful, full of explanations that were trying to soften the blow, but none of them managed to dispel the feeling of loss that was installed in my heart.
“This does not mean that we will cease to be a family,” he said, but since I wasn't convinced. The word “family” no longer had the same meaning. In that moment, I realized that the crack that had been growing in the past few days was not something that could be closed; it was a fracture short, one that would change our lives forever.
He also explained that he had decided to refurbish her flat maiden, a place in which I did not remember ever having been, and that soon we would go to spend a weekend there together. His voice was trying to sound enthusiastic, as if he wanted to convince us that this was something exciting, a new adventure. We said that from that time we would have two houses instead of one, as if that idea could sweeten the bitter reality that we were beginning to understand.
But, as with everything in life, little by little you'll get used to it. At the beginning, at the end of each week in the new floor of mom, I felt strange. The rooms had an echo different, a silence that was nothing like the hustle and bustle of family that I knew. The first few nights, I found it hard to sleep, listening to the noises that were not the usual, trying to find solace in a bed that didn't feel like mine.
However, with time, something started to change. Visits to the floor of mom stopped feeling like a trip uncomfortable and began to form part of the routine. I got used to his way of decorating, new furniture, the way the sun streamed through the windows in the morning. I learned to divide my life into two spaces, taking my computer and my consoles from one side to the other, finding small comfort in both places.
Things would never be the same as before, but also I discovered that not everything had to be exactly the same as to be good. We begin to create new memories in this floor, to fill the silence with our laughter and conversation. Mom, who has never been a good cook, taught us how to cook some of their favorite dishes, and together we invent new traditions, little routines that, although different, they began to feel like home.
I remember a Friday, when you get home from mom, were there to Julen, his godson. Julen and I shared a great passion for video games, something that made his presence is welcome. He was older than me; at that time I was twenty years old, and although this age difference could have been an obstacle, in reality, we are closer. Julen always had some new game to talk about, or some strategy to teach, and those conversations became one of the few times that I really felt disconnected from everything else.
Mom always had some excuse to justify their presence in the house. He said that Julen had come to help her with something: hang a few pictures, mount a shelf, or repairing a door that made a lot of noise. His reasons seemed reasonable, and in the beginning, never questioned why he visited so often to my mother.
But on the day that it all began to fit together, like the tiles of a puzzle, it was an afternoon in my father's house. I remember I went down to the kitchen with the intention of snacking on something, looking to distract myself from the heavy atmosphere seemed to fill the house. Dad took a lot of time in the living room, chatting with her best friend, Mikel. At the beginning, I was not paying much attention to their conversation, concentrate on preparing my snack. However, suddenly, a few words of my father came to my ears, cutting through the air like a knife.
—Petite whore is made of. Each day that passes I learn of some of his adventures —he said dad, his voice full of bitterness and resentment—. That slut brings me putting the horns from the beginning. My ex-wife I must have become the largest cuckold of Spain.
I was frozen in place, with the breath caught in my throat. The words of my father beat me as a slap in the face, bringing with it a pain that I had felt until then. Suddenly, everything began to make sense: the frequent departures of mum in the evening, when she was still married to dad. My father claimed to be tired, and she said that he was going out with her friends, calling him a “girls ' night”. Their manner of dress, always so sexy, and those messages-exchange photos I had seen months ago on his mobile, are also fitted. Finally, the continuous visits of Julen, with which he was speaking some weekends in the living room for hours, while he told us that it was late and we needed to sleep, made me suspect. In the morning, when despertábamos, he was no longer there. Then I started to think that maybe he spent the night with mom in his bed.
But sometimes the mind responds in ways inexplicable as a defense mechanism. All the anger and pain that had built up, first by the divorce and, above all, by the way began to see my mother, began to be transformed. Suddenly, I noticed that those feelings were becoming confusing and contradictory. The intensity of pain and confusion, that in a first moment I had been overwhelmed, mingled with an excitement unexpected and disturbing. When I realized, I was experiencing a sensation I had not anticipated: a mixture of excitement and curiosity that I found difficult to understand and accept. I stroked my erect penis over the pants, and I began to hope that until Friday to return to see her. I went up to my room, leaving you in the kitchen for a forgotten snack. I threw in the bed and I looked with despair, on my mobile phone, the photos of her nude that she had kept. The same, that she had caught on his phone and that she had sent to a stranger. If the first time he had seen them I loved them, that day, I found a real treasure.
Despite the confusion and the pain that I had felt upon discovering his infidelity, never experienced jealousy towards any of the numerous lovers that passed through his life. On the contrary, there was something inside me that, although a surprise to me, was a strange pleasure in knowing desired by other men. The idea that my mother was the object of an admiration and attraction to many, I was somehow fascinating. I was intrigued by the way in which he managed to capture the attention of so many, and instead of resenting it, was experiencing a mixture of curiosity and awe. It was as if, in my mind, mom had purchased a status almost mythical, becoming the center of a universe of desire and admiration that, in some way, I also involved.
Try to imagine how it would behave mom in intimacy with other men became a fascination constant for me. My mind could not stop rambling about how it would be his presence in the bed, how she would react and turn yourself in at the moment. I began to explore this new world through porn videos on the Internet, trying to understand if what I saw in those women is akin in some way to what they would experience it.
I was thinking if it would scream the same way, if his rapid breathing is akin to the sounds that used to accompany the scenes of those videos. I clasped the details: how do your gestures are expressed in the climax? Or, how his movements that would fit the rhythm of the passion? I imagined every grin on his face, every sigh, constructing in my mind a detailed picture of how to develop an intimate experience with my mother.
I dreamed of her in different postures, visualizándola in scenarios varied, and every fantasy was a mixture of desire and curiosity. I wondered if she would adopt certain postures with ease, if their expressions would change, and how your body is adapting to these moments of intimacy. How many men would have cheated to dad? These images are interlaced with my reality, creating a complex web of hopes and speculation that, although based in the fantasy, I kept captive from the figure enigmatic of my mother.
That weekend, in the house of mom, I took the opportunity to explore in their drawers when she, my brother and Julen went to the grocery store. Alegué that I would be playing the console to stay alone. I walked into her room, and the aroma of his presence enveloped me, causing a mixture of intense emotions.
I looked on his nightstand with a certain desperation, finding a collection of lingerie, predominantly thongs, surprising me the amount that I had, almost as if it were a boutique. I looked at his clothes and the extensive collection of high-heeled shoes that he had carefully organized. Giving me the perfect account that my mother was a MILF.
In the bottom drawer of the bedside table, beneath an old wool sweater I didn't recall ever seeing before, I found several objects I hadn't expected. These objects, while not what I had initially sought, evoked in me a number of thoughts and fantasies about intimacy and desire. As I watched, my mind filled with images and speculations about her private life, and how these dildos might have been associated with her in ways I could only imagine. I sucked enrapturedly, imagining these objects having been inserted in the most desirable way into my mother's attractive body.
From that moment on, each time mom interacted with a man, I watched all their movements with renewed attention, trying to understand their behaviors and how they are interacting with my own perceptions and fantasies.
That night I decided to get an alarm to make sure I don't miss the opportunity. I was obsessed in wanting to know, if mom and your friend were lovers. I recognize that when it rang a few hours later, I was overcome laziness and I was about to turn me over and continue to sleep, but the desire and curiosity to mom and Julen were stronger. The house was engulfed in a deathly silence, and I moved with caution, walking through the long hallway in the dark to the room of mom.
I was wondering if Julen would be there with her or if my speculation would simply be ridiculous. The light of the room was off, so I went in with care, illuminating my path with the flashlight on my mobile phone. On the bedside table, next to the sofa, there were two glasses and a bottle of whiskey half empty. The ice in the ice bucket still had not melted at all, which indicated that there had been a long time since I had been there.
On the couch, I saw some panties made a ball, as if they had been removed in a hurry. A sudden urge took me to pick them up. The hallway was long and had no way of L. My room and my brother were just at the entrance, while the mom was at the end of the hallway.
When you arrive to your room, I heard a laugh that I recognized instantly. They were my mother's. The door was open, but it was a slit so small they unfortunately did not allow me to see anything of what was happening on the inside. I guess with the game already started in the living room, didn't notice that detail.
A weak ray of light seeped from the room, through the slit of the door. The clarity was dim, as if one of the lamps on the bedside tables was turned on, casting a soft glow that barely illuminated the hallway. The golden light and warm, creating a subtle contrast with the gloom of the corridor, intensifying the feeling that something intimate and hidden was happening on the other side.
I bent over to stick my ear to the door, trying to catch any sound that might give me clues as to what was happening on the inside.
—What is that you have not had enough with the room? —expressed Julen laughing.
—Took all afternoon horny, looking forward to the night. Do you know that drives me crazy your cock?
When the words of mother went through the door, I felt that my whole body is paralyzed. His voice, normally sweet and motherly, now had a tone full of lust that I had never heard before. “Do you know that drives me crazy your cock?”. Those words, so raw and direct, spoken by the same mouth that so many times he had spoken to me with tenderness, hit me like a punch in the stomach.
The impact was immediate and visceral. My mind could not process it with ease. That phrase, simple and vulgar, I shook with a mixture of disbelief, shame, and, to my surprise, an uncontrollable excitement that I went to as a torrent. My heart was beating with such force that he feared that they might hear from the other side of the door.
But now, listen to her talk as well, with that sincerity brutal, I revealed a side of her that she had never imagined. It was as if suddenly, before my eyes, the image of my mother had been fractured, revealing a facet that I never thought existed. The woman he knew had transformed into someone different, more complex, more human, and, at the same time, the more others. Those words broke the barrier between what I had always believed it, and the reality that unfolds before me, revealing a truth that I found so fascinating as disturbing.
—Follow, follow! —said Julen eagerly—. Fuck, Olivia... How well you suck!
The rustle of the sheets acompasaba his words, while the soft laughter of mom turned into a groan drowned. I felt how the conversation between them, I pressed the chest. Each sentence was like a blow, crumbling the reality that he knew, replacing it by something dark, unknown and bewilderingly exciting. It was like jumping into a forbidden world, one that didn't belonged, but of which I could not look away, caught in the irresistible temptation to continue listening, unable to go back.
The silence that followed his words was even more heavy, loaded with an intimacy that I was completely oblivious. I stood there, motionless, with his hand trembling on my crotch. The need to know what was happening on the other side kept me glued to the place, even though every fiber of my being I screamed that I leave.
—Let me, sweetheart. Ah...! What comes in! Ah...! Oh, how well I feel!
—I love the cunt of the slut that you are. Drive Me crazy, godmother. I never get tired of follarte.
I believed that I was ready for anything, but I never thought I'd hear a vocabulary so procaz coming out of the mouth of my mother. Julen, that boy so polite and familiar, with that small had shared so many moments of console, joining countless weekends in the south of France, had just called a “slut” for mom. A term that I never would have associated with her, and yet, my mother seemed to enjoy it to the fullest.
The words and the sounds of the room were interlaced into a symphony of feelings raw and explicit. Mom laughed and moaned, with a voice full of pleasure, that I found it incomprehensible and bewildering. The way in which I accepted and was given to those words left me stunned, as if he was discovering a facet completely new and unknown to her.
I opened the door slowly, just a few centimeters, with bated breath. The need to see what was happening on the other side it moved me to move forward with caution. Every movement was deliberate. Every second counted while trying to spy without being seen. The small slit that was left open and offered only a partial view, but enough to feed my growing curiosity and anxiety. The dim light from the inside, projected shadows and glows, adding a halo of mystery to the scene that is unfolding in front of me.
From that position, unfortunately I could only distinguish the legs extended Julen and the feet of mother at the height of the knees of him. The disposal of their bodies immediately suggested that she was on top, straddling him. The soft creak of the bed and the rhythm of their movements were evident even from my limited angle, whispering the intensity of the moment without the need to see more.
—Ah... I cum! —began to exclaim mom, intensifying the creaking of the bed, a sure sign that accelerated the pace of the rides on his godson.
I heard the sound of two severe whipping, thing that made my mother gimiera with even more force.
—It takes, slut! —went back to insulting you—. Córrete, bitch. I love how you move your tits when I leaves.
I grabbed my penis, sacándomelo pant pajama and started to masturbate. Such was my level of excitement, which I felt some discomfort in my testicles, given the need to relieve me. I stretched out her panties. It was a white g-string. I loved the aroma of female horny that followed, aware that it was the smell most intimate of my mother. I stretched out the panties on my erect member, enrollándolo with the fabric.
Mom began to moan with an intensity that almost wild. Their sounds were a chorus of pleasure raw and palpable. Each moan that escaped your lips was deep and full of emotion, resonating in the air with a mixture of desperation and ecstasy. His breathing became increasingly choppy, broken up by waves of pleasure that seized his body.
—Ah...! Ah...! Yes...! I love it! Ah...! I roll! Oh I cum, live! Ah...!
Little by little, the noise of the bed was fading, as if the frenetic pace of before was giving place to a calm latter. The cries of my mother became more gentle, her moans faded into whispers turned off. Then, I heard laughter soft, followed by whispers so low that I could not capture the exact words. The silence returned to settle in, broken only by the subtle sound of their kisses, a murmur delicate and tender that filled the space with a new intimacy.
—Do you like it? —asked Julen.
—I've loved, my love. You have a cock that drives me crazy. Will you stay to sleep this night with me? —asked mom.
—I'd like to, but I have to go in a little while. I told Maialen came out to take a few drinks with a colleague.
—What a pity! —expressed mama—. You already know that I like to spend the whole night with you.
Maialen was the bride of Julen, a figure that had been seen on several occasions. I knew that she was a hairdresser and was the same age as Julen, some twenty years. From the first moment that I saw it, I found it dazzling. Her beauty was of a quality that would wake up an envy immediate, an envy that made me want to be in the place of Julen.
It was a girl with brown skin, with dark hair that fell in soft waves around his face, framing his features delicate. His eyes, large and expressive, of a bright green, they seemed to catch the light in a captivating. However, Julen seemed to not having enough with her, and had become the lover of my own mother. If you already admired him, from that moment he became my hero.
—What happens is that you've not had enough? —asked Julen laughing, playing another couple of lashes, which made mom threw a fit of laughter.
—How gross you are! I have the ass as red as a tomato. Sweetheart, you already know that I will never have enough. But well, now it's your turn correrte to you. Do you want that you suck? he asked, cringing.
He seemed to hesitate a moment in the way in which he wanted to cum.
—Get better on four legs, I run away...
I had to leave, but an invisible force kept me anchored in this place. My body, tense and paralyzed, did not respond to the urgency of my mind. The silence of the hallway was broken again with the crack characteristic of the bed, a sound that seemed to resonate with a persistent worrying, stressing the intimacy of what was happening on the other side of the door. The need to get away, facing the attraction uncontrollable keep listening, caught in a tangle of conflicting emotions.
To know that I was fucking my mother in that position, which he had so often seen in videos on the internet, made me more daring. Through the slit of the door, she could make out the legs of Julen he knelt on the mattress, and a small part of its buttocks, moving against it... Every subtle movement resulted in a crack of the bed, amplifying the intensity of the scene that is unfolding on the other side. I introduced the head and looked. I could not resist, they were back to me.
Mom was on four legs. I could barely see it because Julen cover her with his body. Simply, I could clearly see the lush buttocks, mom, moving, bouncing in every onslaught that Julen he was processing.
—Still, still... you're Going to make me run again. Give me more strong, you bastard. Rómpeme pussy, more strong... give me more —claimed with a faltering voice.
Julen, who was breathing with difficulty and is moving with a renewed determination, he replied with a whisper roughly.
—How so? Is this how you like it, slut? You like that give you a rod, —you used the plural, and the thing that surprised me. Being aware in that moment that the sex life of the mother was not confined only to his beloved godson.
—Yes, so. Don't stop, —the voice of mum was shaking, full of impatience and desire. His words were a whirlwind of raw emotion, sprinkled moans drowned that barely managed to contain.
—I'm going to give you everything you want, you piece of bitch — " he murmured Julen, stepping up the pace. Their movements became more deep, each thrust resonated in the room with a mixture of passion and strength. I watched how two strong lashes fell on the buttocks of mom, they were red, with the fingers of his godson marked on your delicate skin.
The moans of mom became frequent again, filling my ears with a surround sound and palpable. Each of their cries and whispers spread with an increasing intensity, reverberating through the walls like an echo of pure pleasure. The frequency of their cries, each time more desperate and choppy, it was almost tangible, as if the sound itself were pulling to those who listen to the scene unfolding on the other side of the door. I thought the neighbors: how many nights would have listened to mom in that state? What would think of them from my mother?
—Ah, my love! What I leaves!
—I'm going to correrme. Where do you want my milk? —he asked, slowing down for a second, his movements.
She seemed to think, as if you really enjoy this game.
—I want that inside me. Fill the pussy.
—Ah...! Take it, whore. Take all my milk.
At that time I left my hiding-place. I know that what I did was not good and changed forever the way in which I saw my mother. However, I have never regretted having done so. I walked down the hall in silence, with her panties mommy enveloping my cock. I had run two times in the course of that crazy night outing.
(CONTINUE)
#mother, #family, #son, #milf, #united_family, #stories,
