These stories will feature mature mothers with big, fake breasts enjoying the over-sized endowments of their sons. If that's not something you want to read then go find something else on this excellent site.
Feedback is appreciated but don't bitch about how unrealistic or clichéd the scenario is in the comments - - you'll be wasting your time and mine.
Everyone involved is 18 or over.
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"Mom? Mom - - the maid's upstairs," Adam said nervously, looking down at his step-mother.
Samantha looked back up at him and smiled, continuing to pull down his pajamas, his huge, hardening cock bobbing out in front of her.
"I know, sweetheart," she said, taking hold of his dick and stroking it. She marvelled at its thickness, her fingers barely meeting around its girth, the bulbous knob almost as big as her fist. She giggled, knelt on the kitchen floor in front of him, her silk nightdress ballooned in front of her due to her big, fake tits, her ass pushed back and moulded by the silk. "But Mommy wants some breakfast."
"But - - but dad's still asleep as well," Adam said, sighing as Samantha licked and nuzzled at the head of his cock, taking just the swelling bulb between her lips for a moment, her tongue licking at the slit.
"I know, sweetheart," she said again. "Isn't Mommy naughty for - - mmmmm - - sucking on your - - mmmm - - your big cock when - - mmllllppp - - when we could be - - uullpppp - - caught at any second?" Samantha bobbed her head back and forth as she talked, taking the first couple of inches of her cock into her mouth, feeling it harden between her lips.
"Gosh, Mom," Adam groaned, watching her open her mouth as wide as she could and force herself to take as much of his length as she could manage. He felt his knob head nudge against the back of her throat, watched her eyes scrunch shut with the effort of taking his thick fuck meat into her throat for just a moment before she backed off, coughing and gagging.
"Soon, sweetheart," she gasped, fisting his now spit-covered cock, "Mommy's going to be able to deep throat you one of these days."
"Wow," he gasped. "I'd really like that," he said.
Samantha sucked on his cock head once more, sucking up the pre-cum that dribbled from his knob, a thick line running over her lips and chin to fall on to the silk stretched tight over her huge tits. She looked up at him, running her hand back and forth along his prick.
"You gonna give Mommy some breakfast, sweetheart?" she asked him with a smile. "A nice - - hot - - creamy load?"
"Madre de Dios, que está muerto! Señor Moore ha muerto!"
They both jumped at the cry of Conchita, the Mexican maid who called in to clean every other day, who screamed from the upper floor of the house.
Samantha jumped up, wiping her lips, and ran for the stairs, Adam stuffing his hard on back into his pajamas and followed her. They found Conchita, the large, middle aged cleaning lady, stood at the landing in a state of panic, flapping her hands and pointing back to Franklin's room.
"La señora Moore - - su marido - - el señor Moore - - es - - que está muerto!" she yelled.
"Conchita - - Conchita, I don't understand," Samantha said. "What's wrong? What's wrong?"
"Señor Moore - - he - - he dead," the maid managed to gasp in English.
Samantha and Adam looked at each other before rushing into Franklin's room, stopping as they saw the still, quiet form in the bed.
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"It was likely a heart attack," the doctor said later as they sat in the living room, Samantha and Adam sitting on the sofa, holding hands, listening to him. "We'll know more later but obviously, I knew Franklin had a heart condition and it was just a matter of time. At least he went quietly in his bed."
"I can't believe he's gone," Samantha said, tears flowing down her cheeks.
"It's okay, Mom," Adam said, putting his arm around her. "I'll look after you."
"Thank you, sweetheart," Samantha said, leaning against him and sobbing gently as he stroked her hair.
Dr North stared at her as she sat in the simple jeans and T-shirt she'd dressed in after phoning him and again cursed Franklin for not letting him act as her doctor over the years. The old man had insisted his medical history be kept from Samantha, going so far as to forbid his doctor to treat them both. The doctor had long dreamt of "examining" the fake-titted trophy wife of his patient and wondered if there was any way that could happen now that Franklin was out of the picture.
"Mrs Moore - - Samantha - - you're obviously going to be experiencing some upsetting times over the next few weeks and months. I know you have your own doctor but if you need to talk to me, I'm always available."
"Thank you, doctor," Samantha said through her tears. "That's very kind, but I think I'll be okay with Adam here." She hugged her step-son, the doctor trying not to stare as he watched her tits squash against the young man's beefy arms.
"Well of course - - I mean, my offer's to both of you - - if you need me, please call."
"Thanks, doc," Adam said, holding his step-mother tight, his arm dropped from her shoulders to encircle her waist, pulling her close. "I think we'll be okay together."
Doctor North raised an eyebrow, wondering if there was more between this pair than was strictly proper. That might bear investigating, he thought.
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It had been a heart attack after all. The funeral was held a week later at a small chapel on the outskirts of the town with just family and close friends attending. Once Franklin had been buried, they moved to his favourite golf club which had agreed to host the memorial service and the wake, both of which were attended by a larger group of business associates, friends and friends of friends.
Throughout it all, Samantha was accompanied by Adam who looked handsome in his sombre black suit and white shirt. His step-mother was also in black, a demure dress that reached her knees and was square cut across her chest, showing just the start of her impressive cleavage but unable to hide the size of her huge tits.
