Category: mom

Trailer Trash

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Damn, if that wasn’t the hottest summer I ever lived through. My cold-hearted and frigid wife had left me with nothing but my student loan and my computer. I’m sure I would have had alimony payments if she hadn’t run off with her divorce lawyer so soon. The bitch even took the dog. My only consolation was that they had to go to Rome to get the official annulment after the bishop here refused. Oh, well, I’ve never understood the Catholic sentiment of official sanctification.

Without much of anything left I quickly signed up for summer school duty. As an English teacher, my classes would be comprised of those unlucky, uncaring, or slow enough not to pass during the regular school year. The only housing I could afford was at a trailer park three-quarters of a mile from the last stop on the commuter train line. With a crappy trailer home without air-conditioning and a class of unwilling neer-do-wells, I was in for a long, hot summer.

I trudged along to the train stop the first day of school with the assorted collection of domestic help headed into the wealthy houses for the day and the few motley students who attended where I taught. The trailer park was in the furthest unmentioned corner of an otherwise wealthy school district. What caught my eye that morning was a mother-daughter team walking with the rest of us. The mother’s waitress outfit was just tight enough to give me a vision of a nice medium-sized rack, and when she bent over to pick up a hair-tie to pull her dark hair back into a really cute shaggy pony-tail her bubble butt gave me a shudder in my much self-abused crotch. It wasn’t hard to see where her life had traveled: young and wild, young and pregnant, working hard now to make ends meet.

The daughter seemed headed the same way, but on second thought, perhaps not. There was something a little calm and calculated about her. She had a nice mane of strawberry-blond hair she spent some time on that morning, a nose ring of defiance and what looked to be the early stage of the nice rack and ass of her mother’s ilk. She wore flip-flops with the toes painted an ironic “Trailer-Trash” green, some short shorts which were just short of being too slutty for school but which I knew were going to give her male classmates something to dream about, and one of those clingy tops with spaghetti straps.

The mom gave me an interesting look as she parted ways with her daughter at the station. She headed to what I was certain was her place of employment: a fantastic dinner on the highway not far from the station which did a great business: great food, outstanding banana-cream pie. It was popular with everyone from SUV-driving yuppies to the bikers who met there on the weekends.

We boarded the train and the girl made an interesting choice in sitting across from me in a double-seat in the corner. I wasn’t sure whether I was invading her usual space or whether she was just being bold. She flopped down and closed her eyes in a bored adolescent way. She raised one foot up and placed it on the seat next to me. The pretty foot and painted toes made me have to adjust my growing member as I gave the rest of her a closer look. What gave me more discomfort was what her breasts were doing in the chilly a/c of the train car. I could now tell that she had amazingly big areolae and nipples the size of #2 erasers. Goddamn, if those aren’t big turn-ons for me. Both those lovely dark areolae just barely discernable through her tight top and huge nipples were hardening. If only those shapely legs would adjust a little more I would be able to see up those short shorts. Oh, well, I just smiled, enjoyed the glances and feigned looking out the window when she looked up during the trip.

Of course, I found out later she was assigned to my class. She smiled slyly as she took a seat in the middle of the class – not too close or too far. I learned she was very smart and that due to some personality conflict with what I knew to be an old prick of a faculty member she had failed last year. She was eighteen and should have graduated at the end of the year. It was going to be a challenge to bring her out, if I could. Due to her financial status and grades last year, Laura was assigned a mandatory tutor funded by the state. Oh, yes, I said that it would be no problem for me to take on that duty.
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Moms Massage

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I am Beth, divorced mother of a 19-year-old daughter, Sara, who still lives at home with me. I work a secretarial job and she goes to the local community college. When she was young, I was too busy working and taking care of her to think about getting involved and meeting men. Since then, somehow it has never come up. I just never seemed to want to spend the energy to pursue finding a boyfriend, and no one pursued me. I satisfy my ever dwindling sexual needs with some toys I keep in my bed stand.

Sara has always been a pretty responsible girl, and we have stayed close even as she went through her teenage years (though technically she still is one, now that she has finished high school and is in college, I sort of think of her as “grown up”). She is about five-foot-seven and has a lean athletic look, and does play a variety of sports. Her breasts are still small enough that she goes bra-less most of the time. Since it is just the two of us, she does not pay much attention to how she is dressed at home. She often goes around the house in just panties and a tank top. Her nipples will often stick prominently through the fabric. Being mom, I am a little more conservative that way. I pretty much stay dressed around the house, or at least in pj’s or a terry cloth robe. It is not as if she has not seen me undressed, or me her, or each other sitting on the toilet on occasion. Nevertheless, neither do we go around naked either. I am a decent looking woman, no model certainly. At five-foot-five, my weight is good at about 125 pounds. While no athlete, I have not let myself go completely soft. I have dark wavy hair, cut generally to just below the shoulders. My breasts are fairly full so they do sag some—I am in my early 40s after all. But I think if I dress well, I can still turn an eye or two.

On this particular Friday evening, it had been a long day, with the boss running me all over the place. I was ready to collapse by the time I left the office for the day and took the bus home. As usual, I have on my secretarial outfit, looking professional, mid thigh tan skirt, tights, matching tan vest, a white silk blouse fairly tight in the bodice, and heels. When I get home I just plop myself down on the sofa, and kick off my heels, leaving my purse dropped just inside the door. We live in a small two bedroom apartment, with our rooms just off the living/dinging room and share the one bathroom. I guess Sara heard me sigh. She came out of her room just as I sat down, in just panties and a tank top, as I mentioned is often the case, asking me how I was. I told her, truthfully, that I was pretty beat. She comes behind the sofa, and starts to rub my neck, something she will do for me on occasion. I just close my eyes, letting out deep breaths. Sara had just recently started taking a class on massage through the local parks and rec, and more often now would offer these neck rubs.

After massaging my shoulders for a few minutes she generally gets back to doing whatever it is she does in her room—her homework, chatting with her friends or whatever it is a girl of her age does. But today she says to me “Would you like me to do your back? I could practice some of what I’m learning in class.” I tell her sure. She recommends we go to my room so I can lie down on the bed. I figure, great, I would love a massage. She tells me she will be there in a moment, and I go to my room and collapse on my stomach on the bed.

When she gets in the room, she is holding a bottle of massage oil, a couple of candles, and an extra sheet. She informs me I need to get undressed to do this properly, as she wants to give me a real massage with oil and the full treatment. I am a little hesitant. As I said, it is not like she has not seen me undressed, but we do not hang out naked either. In the end, I figure this is a massage after all, so I get up and start taking my clothes off. Meanwhile she puts the sheet over the bed, turns off the lamps, lights the candles, and puts on some soft relaxing classical music that I have by my CD player.
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Moms New Bikini

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I’m a young boy, only 18 years old. I often think about girls from my school when I masturbated. Today was very hot outside. All the girls in school had sexy outfits and I was so horny from watching them. When I got home I decided to go to my room and jack off.

I opened the front door of our house and walked towards my room. I was already hard and ready to blow my load. Just when I was closing my room door I heard my mom calling for me.

“Jack? Is that you? Come over here I need to talk to you.”

I didn’t no what to do because my huge boner in my pants.

“Yeah it’s me! Cant we talk later?” I yelled back to mom

“Come on Jack, it wont take long I just need your opinion of something.”

“Ok mom! Where are you?”

“In my bedroom, honey, come here”

I started to walk towards my parent’s bedroom with my dick hard in my pants. I know that mom could easily see it. There had never been anything sexual between my and mom, not until this day. I walked into the bedroom trying to hide the fact of my swollen penis. Mom was looking herself thru the mirror wearing only a white bikini. She looked so sexy in it. My mom was very cute and attractive in her own way. Her name is Carla and she’s 37 years old with a long brown hair and a very nice pair of boobs. Her figure was very sexy, her small and tight ass looked so cute in bikini bottoms witch didn’t cover much of it.

“Hi honey, how was school?” my mom said to me.

I didn’t know what to say I was so stunned how she looked. “Fine… I think…”

“Well that’s good. So Jack what do you think about my new bikini?” Mom walked around the room and posed for me in her new sexy looking white bikini. Her breasts were so big and the bikini didn’t hide them very well. It looked like her tits were going to fall of them.
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