“I Love The Sex,” My Mother Groaned

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This one started off as an idea which then spiralled into something much longer than I planned. There will be typos and errors in the text because it’s unedited. This scene is as it came off the keyboard, but I hope these errors don’t detract from any enjoyment in reading. I turned off voting and comments because I can’t be arsed with trolling and/or complaining. There’s an element of cuckolding in the scene which seems to upset some readers on Lit. Oh dear, how sad, never mind. This is supposed to e fun. Don’t like the scene? Too bad. Jog on.

Anyway, having said that, I do hope it gives some readers pleasure.

Thanks for reading.

GA – Cambridgeshire, UK – 23 July 21


They were fucking her down in the shepherd’s hut. She was on her side, spooning with Mark behind her. She was taking his cock, eager as she worked her hips with urgent, vehement action. Her blouse was loose, unbuttoned, large breasts cantilevered over her bra. By then she had her skirt up to her waist, legs spread, Mark’s hands full of her tits as she looked back at him.

Her lips were moving, she was speaking to Mark. I couldn’t hear what she was saying because the window blocked the sound, but it looked like she was enjoying herself, that she was there because she wanted to be. It was obvious no one had forced her into the scene and, as I watched, she was smiling at Mark, attention shifting to Danny as he stood close by, his cock in his fist.

Danny was stroking his length, eyes set on my mother, lust in his expression.

While Mark continued to work his dick into my mother’s pussy, her vulva hairless, loose labia clinging to Mark’s shaft on the outward strokes, she said something Danny, encouraging him to move in close with a quick curl of one arm and something she said.

I gasped, shocked, appalled, yet paradoxically thrilled to see my own mother taking a fucking while sucking on Danny’s cock.

I’d known something was off for a few days. Danny and Mark had started acting evasive. There was something sly in their faces, tension between us I’d never felt before. It was a feeling I had, just a sense that they were up to something they wanted to keep from me. The suspicion led to some amateur surveillance by me, a clumsy attempt at following I managed to get away with, the mystery deepening as I tracked Danny’s old VW Golf, the route taking us to my house.

They weren’t obvious about it. They had the sense, probably because my mother had told them, to park around the corner and walk back to the house. I managed to park a few doors down from the house, nestled into a gap I’d been lucky to spot and from where I watched them double back, both moving quickly, chatty and gesturing as they went. I saw Danny and Mark ignore the front door, moving instead to the driveway where they skirted the side of the house on their way to the back garden.

Puzzled, I followed after a minute of wondering, carefully following their path, the shepherd’s hut my parents let as an AirBnB at the end of the garden. At first I thought they might have something illicit hidden in the hut, a bit of a reach because none of us were criminal masterminds, my thoughts moving to how they would have included me if they were up to no-good. I paused, glancing around, strange sensations on me because I was the one skulking around when I was the only one with the right to be there. Danny and Mark were the interlopers. Not me. But I still had a sense of the clandestine about me. There was something going on and I knew I had to be sneaky in my approach.

The shock of it hit me like a cold-water wave when I’d crept up to the short balcony and peeped through the window. My brain rebelled, absolutely refused to accept what my eyes were seeing: my two best friends with my mother sandwiched between them, their hands moving over her body as she alternated between kissing them both, tongues swirling, desire obvious in the way my mother snogged their faces while my friends pawed at her tits and buttocks.

I gasped, stunned, confusion whirling as I tried to make sense of it all.

The awful after-image imprinted itself on my mind’s-eye as I ducked down onto the patio, mewling nonsense as the shock went through me. I could see it while I crouched for at least a minute: my mother, my friends, all of them standing, her white blouse unbuttoned, boobs exposed, skirt to her hips. She was wearing old-fashioned stockings, a black suspender belt, and black high-heels, Mark’s fingers between her legs while my mother was craning around to slobber kisses with Danny.

My heart was pounding, hands trembling as I dared to take another look, peeking over the parapet, the action all about the kissing, this time as my mother ski-poled both my friends’ dicks.

I groaned, part of it shock, part of it anger, and part of it a quick ripple of sexual arousal.

I ducked away again, breath coming in short gasps, denial strong inside me.

It couldn’t be true.

It just could not be happening.

During the few seconds I crouched beneath the window, my mind turned marsbahis g├╝venilirmi over and over. I thought about my mother: kind, sweet, generous. Always quick to laugh. Bright and good fun. I recognised she was pretty. Despite her being my mother, I knew, in a vague, distant, non-sexual way, that she had a certain aesthetic appeal as well as an engaging personality. She wasn’t any skinny young thing. My mother was ripe and voluptuous. Not exactly fat, but she did have a couple of layers of good living padding her body. Nevertheless, there was a feminine shape to her figure which was attractive. She had the legs, too. I’d seen a couple of tradesmen taking a look on more than one occasion. I’d heard the flirty banter back-and-forth. I was aware my mother was attractive to men, and while Danny and Mark had made comments in the past, I’d had no clue my mother would ever consider entertaining them in a physical, sexual way.

But, there they were, in the shepherd’s hut, kissing and groping, my mother dressed for sex.

That realisation put me in mind of how they must have planned it. It wasn’t anything spontaneous. The white blouse and black skirt were clothes she’d wear to work. They were a simple corporate uniform. But high-heels and stockings? I didn’t think they were usual for her.

Then I thought abut my dad, the anger bubbling inside me because my mother was showing herself to be a faithless bitch.

Not only that, she was taking on two of them at the same time.

“Jesus, fuck,” I sighed, stunned to realise my own mother was a slut.

The next peep over the sill was where my mother was taking Mark’s cock. They were on the green sofa almost square on to the window, all of it plain to see. My mother’s weight was on one hip and an elbow, Mark’s hand on her hip as he worked her back onto his dick, his other hand under my mother’s angled torso, tit-flesh spilling over his fingers. Mark had his eyes closed, a grimace of pleasure twisting his face as my mother looked up to Danny, her expression all about smiling delight.

Then Danny’s girth was stretching my mother’s lips, her hand working his cock down at its root.

I spent the next twenty minutes alternating between peering into the hut and crouching on the wooden boards of the patio. My mind whirled, confusion swirling, impressions and sensations mixed into it all. I felt sick, angry at the awfulness of what my mother was doing with my friends. I thought about busting it up. I could barge in, yelling and full of rage. I could vent as they blabbered apologies and shock. I could spit and snarl, maybe get in a punch or two.

I thought about it all: my mother’s wobbling tits and the condom tight around Danny’s cock as my mother rode him in the cowgirl position, her mouth busy on Mark. I thought about where my father must be right in that moment, oblivious to his wife sucking and fucking two boys the same age as her son.

When I looked again, my mother’s mouth was hanging open, eyes closed, head lolling loose as Mark fucked at her in the doggy style. He was giving her the good news, holding her hips, pelvis working as he went hard at my mother. I groaned in despair and that weird surge of sexual longing. She was my mother, but it excited me to see her with my friends. Her big tits swung, the spare flesh at her hips rippling as Mark curled in low over her back, his teeth grazing the nape of my mother’s neck.

My mother used straight arms to fuck back onto Mark as he cupped her breasts, her face showing her need as she bared her teeth and snarled something back at Mark over one shoulder. Then they were kissing as Danny stood and wanked at his dick, fist moving quickly, the bulb squeezed into the condom.

As I watched, I saw Mark kneel upright, his palm slapping my mother’s bottom with three quick slaps, his face tilting to the ceiling.

“Shit,” I muttered when it hit me that Mark was losing himself into the condom.

He was coming, face showing the tension, hips moving as he worked in deep, my mother’s expression showing delight as she craned round to watch.

Mark’s body tensed, muscles going slack as his head drooped forward, the cock slipping free. I stared, transfixed, focus on the shivering teat, the condom heavy with gooey ejaculate.

Then, as Mark slumped onto the sofa, my mother shifted to a sitting position. After that, she spread her legs, reclining, inviting Danny to use her pussy with her arms wide, a smile on her face.

Danny didn’t hang around. He was on my mother a moment later, buttocks flexing as he fucked into her opening, her boobs rolling while my mother folded her legs at the knees.

I crouched down, sucking in air, shocked at the sight of Mark’s cum inside the condom and the vehemence in which Danny was going at my mother.

“Oh Jesus,” I groaned, pawing my dick.

My cock was at full tumescence, lust a yawning, hollow void in the pit of my stomach. I felt the urge to masturbate. I needed to come. I wanted to jack my length and feel the joy as the frustration spat from the eye marsbahis yeni giri┼č in the bulb.

I squeezed my cock, mind full of my mother’s bare skin and the way her flesh jiggled. It was another shock to know seeing it happen could arouse me in that way. I couldn’t believe my dick was hard, nor could I accept the urgent need to touch myself.

When I looked through the window, I saw Danny had finished. He was standing next to Mark, both of them staring as my mother sat on the sofa, fingers stirring her vulva. I could tell my mother was close. She was going at herself with desperate action, sometimes rubbing her clit while punctuating the action with with two fingers working inside her body, the digits in up to the knuckle. As she fingered and rubbed, my mother mauled her own tits, face a grimace of agonised ecstasy.

I could see she was talking to my friends. My mother’s lips moved, mostly through a snarl, her nose crinkling when she grinned at them. Then I saw her convulse, her cry of delight reaching me as her eyes closed, body in paroxysms of joy as her climax claimed her.

It went on for quite a few seconds. My mother writhed and rubbed, boobs wobbling as she went for the peak.

I was watching as my mother slumped back, limbs loose and floppy, breath going in in chest-heaving gulps as she looked at Danny and Mark.

A short conversation ensued, culminating in Danny and Mark gathering their clothes.

I ducked out of sight, scuttling around the side of the hut, mindful to avoid making noise against the wooden slats o the patio as I went. My heart was still pounding, cock constricted inside my jeans and boxers, head full of near panic as I hid and waited for my friends to make their exit.

I heard voices, snatches of quick, excited conversation while footsteps sounded on the patio, the noise receding as Danny and Mark walked along the path towards the house.

I waited, hands and legs trembling from the adrenalin surge, heart still busy but less frantic than a few minutes before.

Time passed.

A minute.


My mother didn’t appear, and nor I couldn’t hear any movement within as I slowly, carefully peeked around the corner of the hut.

She came out just as I found the nerve to step closer to the patio.

My mother froze, a quick flash of fear in with the surprise when she saw me.

“Sonny, you gave me a fright,” she said after blurting in surprise.

She was dressed, skirt covering her modesty and that suspender belt, big tits in the bra, blouse buttoned. Her heels pecked at the patio boards as my mother shifted position, honey-blonde hair framing her face a little dishevelled, eyes on my face.

“Just checking the hut,” my mother lied.

I saw the guilt in her expression as she glanced back to the scene of the crime. She was carrying a small leather handbag in one hand, her mobile phone and the key to the hut in the other.

My mother’s diction was all English home counties. She went to some decent schools because my maternal grandparents had some money. My dad is more down-to-Earth Essex, like me and my sister.

When she fixed her attention back to me, my mother asked: “What are you doing here, Sonny?”

“I just saw Danny and Mark,” I said, not knowing I was going to say it.

My mother’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, did you?”

She was trying hard at innocence, demeanour cool and casual.

I nodded, suddenly full of anger, motivated by that surge of emotion that I wanted to test my mother. I wanted to see her squirm.

My mother shrugged when I asked: “What were they doing here?”

She sighed and looked at me. “Oh, Sonny,” she said.

I shrugged. “What? Why say it like that?”

“You’ll spoil the surprise,” my mother said.

I gawked at her.


My mother nodded. “Mm-hmm. Your birthday,” she said.

“That’s next month,” I said.

“Yes, and you’ll spoil the surprise,” my mother said as she rolled her eyes. “Just leave it at that.”

“No,” I said as my mother went to move of the patio.

She looked at me, eyebrows arches of inquiry at my sharp tone.

“You’re lying,” I told her.

My mother’s eyes narrowed to feline slits. “You be careful, Sonny…”

Surprising myself, I scoffed and said: “Me? I should be careful?”

My mother’s face showed a flash of anxiety, throat working as she looked back to the hut again.

She looked at me, face changing as her expression hardened, a dangerous light flickering behind her eyes.

Her tone matched the look when she said: “Just what have you been up to, Sonny?”

“Not much,” I said, truculent with it. “Just hanging around.”

Suspicious, my mother asked: “Hanging around where?”

I shrugged, still angry enough to say: “Here, mum. Right here.”

My mother’s throat worked again as she stared at me. “Oh my God … Sonny … Where…?”

She paused, eyes wide, mouth open.

I grinned when she gasped: “What did you do?”

“More like what did you do, mum,” I snorted.

“Sonny, marsbahis giri┼č please, what do you think you know?”

I felt a pang of guilt and sympathy despite the shock and anger when I saw her face showing the fear. Her cheeks were starting to colour, the blush rising from her throat where the top two buttons on the blouse were loose.

“It’s more than think,” I said, thrusting my chin at the window.

My mother turned her head, tracking my sightline.

“Sonny,” she gasped, apparently appalled, face fire-engine red. “You saw?”

Sensations surged within as I nodded, images inside my head of my mother with Mark and Danny, my cock still constricted inside my clothing. I felt a strange mix of guilt and desire when I looked at my mother and I mentally stripped her down to her stockings and heels. The dark urges were a visceral squeeze as I recalled my mother’s smooth, hairless vulva and the way her cunt had taken Mark and Danny’s size.

“Oh Jesus, God,” my mother breathed as I relived the way her flesh jiggled and wobbled as she took her fucking.

“Uh-huh, I saw,” I said in what was little more than a croak.

“Sonny, please…”

My mother gasped it out, face showing horror and concern.

Then she sighed: “God, what must you be thinking?”

I gulped, swallowing down on all the conflicting emotions rising within.

“Look,” my mother was saying. “I really think we should talk about this.” She turned and went to the door like she was going back inside the hut. “Sonny, we have to,” my mother said.

She stopped when I said: “What? In there?”

My mother was looking at me, shrugging as she said: “Why not?”

I stared, eyes wide before I said: “Uh, you, on the sofa…”

My mother closed her eyes, sighing as she muttered a curse.

“Jesus, why did I do it on my own-fucking-doorstep?” she muttered.

Then she opened her eyes and gazed at me, love for my mother mixed in with everything as she murmured: “Do you hate me, Sonny?”

I shook my head, confused by what I was feeling. “No, ‘course not, mum.”

She blurted a laugh, the sound of it nervous and brittle. “Must have been a hell of a shock.”

I sucked in air and felt my cheeks balloon as I exhaled in a long sigh. “Well, yeah, a bit,” I said.

My mother winced and said: “Your friends … Sorry, Sonny, I know I shouldn’t have done it. Jesus, darling, when I think about it now … What you must have seen…”

I closed my eyes, the images flashing across my mind’s-eye: the kissing, their hands on her body, my mother wanking two cocks.

“What…? I mean just how much…? Shit, Sonny,” my mother said on an exasperated sigh. “How long were you there?”

She was standing with her back to the door, looking down to me as I stood at the bottom of the steps, three wooden treads up to the patio level.

“I … I saw them when they got here,” I said.

My mother grimaced and muttered: “Oh shit…”

“I didn’t look straight away,” I said, suddenly eager to limit my mother’s humiliation.

“Mm, but you saw … You must have seen…”

I was nodding as I blurted: “Yes, mum, I saw.”

“God, I’m so ashamed, Sonny. Baby, I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen. I should have had more self-control.”

The questions were in me, a dark desire for details, something clandestine slithering at the back of my mind.

She pulled another face when I asked: “You had it all planned?”

My mother sighed and shrugged, a gesture of surrender before she said: “Yes. I had it planned. It was something I wanted to do.”

“Fucking hell, mum,” I gasped, appalled and shocked to hear it.

“Listen, Sonny,” my mother snapped, eyes showing defiance. “Don’t you judge me, okay. You don’t know me that way. I’m your mother and I get you’ve had an awful time. You’re probably horrified. But there’s more to me than being your mum. I’m just a person, Sonny. I have needs and wants. I’m just like everybody else.”

“Oh, so Danny’s mum gets spit-roasted by his mates? Mark’s mum takes on a couple of blokes while his dad’s at work?”

The accusations bubbled up with a will of their own. I spat them out, sneering at my mother, her face bright red as she gawked at me.

“You nasty little shit,” she hissed.

“Fucking, slutty, two-timing bitch,” I said in reply.

My mother’s face shown real anger as she took three steps across the patio, heels peck-peck-pecking as she went. She reached the steps, pausing, contempt twisting her lips.

“Sanctimonious prick,” my mother sneered. “Think you have me all sorted out. You know nothing about real life yet, Sonny,” she said, jabbing a forefinger at me.

The mobile phone was in her hand, key swinging, finger like a pistol she was aiming at my face.

“You know fuck-all,” my mother added. “Have you even had a proper girlfriend yet?”

She glared at me as I stared back at her, animosity inside me reflected in my mother’s face.

“None of your business,” I snapped back.

Silence followed, both of us taking air down in gasping breaths.

My mother held up a hand, palm out in a gesture of parley.

“This isn’t solving anything,” my mother said as her expression softened. “Listen, Sonny, please. Let’s just go into the hut. Let’s have a talk. See if I can go some way to explaining myself.”

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