Mother’s Appreciation by Eccho
Discover the enticing tale of 'Mother's Appreciation' by Eccho, an erotic sex story that explores desire and forbidden passion. Dive into a world of steamy encounters and emotional connections that will captivate your imagination. Read now for an unforgettable journey into sensuality!<br/>
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“You did not,” Phoibe says through laughter,
“I swear on my life,” I assure, “Quick jab to the nose right in front of his kid. Made him look like his nose was in dire need of a tampon.”
Phoibe laughs even harder both from her joke and just thinking about the scenario.
“You are hardcore,” she says through her laughing fit,
“Don’t slap my ass without my written consent,” I joke, “Seems like a pretty fair exchange if you ask me.”
“Language,” mom says, walking past us and placing down two plates of her famous custard cream pie,
“Sorry,” I reply, slightly embarrassed. How was I to know she was there?!
She brings a hand to my chin, giving it a few scratches before walking off.
“Enjoy, girls,” she says, walking off.
I pick up my fork, ready to dig into the deliciousness before me. But I immediately notice Phoibe. Her demeanor has completely changed. She’s not laughing anymore. She looks fixated on something. I turn to see what suddenly caught her attention, catching mom bending over to unload the dishwasher. I turn back to Phoibe, chuckling before snapping at her, grabbing her attention.
“Hey,” I say, “My eyes are over here.”
“Yes, I can see that,” she retorts before turning her attention back to my mother, “And my eyes are over here admiring something a lot more interesting.”
“Wow, love just radiates from you, huh?”
“Yes it does. Especially for those that are deserving of it.”
“Come on, Phoibe, that’s my mom.”
“And that’s a pie, that’s an apple, and that’s a jar of cherries. Call them whatever you want. I still wanna taste how sweet they are.”
Wow. We share a chuckle at her statement before I say,
“You’re so bad.”
“Yeah, I’m such a bad girl,” Phoibe cosigns, “Looks like mommy needs to teach me a lesson.”
“Phoibe.”
“What, you’re gonna lie to me and say that you don’t think the same thing?”
“What? Phoibe, how could I possibly look at my own mother like that?”
“Easy, like this.”
She turns my head to look at my mother moving all over the kitchen. Everything she does just accentuates her body. When she reaches up to put up the cutlery, her shirt slightly rides up her torso, creating a brief midriff to show off her toned stomach. When she heads back to the dishwasher, her ass looks more firm and plump. When she leans over the counter to try and remember what she needs to do next, her bust is noticeably prominent.
Oh my. Phoibe is actually right. My mother’s a stunning woman. I mean, I’ve always known this, but she’s shown me how to appreciate it more than I have been. She interrupts my revelation with a noticeable snicker. I turn to her, saying,
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing,” she says in a taunting tone before pointing at my crotch, “I just didn’t know your little friend would enjoy the view that much.”
I look down, discovering my erection protruding through my sweats. I immediately try to hide it, pressing it against my thigh. Phoibe chuckles before saying,
“That’s quite a way to appreciate your mommy. You think if you show it to her, she’ll kiss it and make it better?”
“Shut up,” I reply, rolling my eyes with a smirk, “This is your fault, you know.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right. You want me to kiss it and make it better?”
“Only if you’ll finally let me finish on your face this time.”
We share another laugh before eating our pie. Soon afterwards, it gets time for her to go back home, so we say our goodbyes before she heads out. I walk back in the kitchen to clean the dishes we used, spotting mom wiping down the counters.
“You know, that little friend of yours is really something,” she says,
“You have no idea,” I reply, turning on the water,
“I’d charge her rent for coming over so much if she weren’t so darn cute.”
We share a laugh as I scrub my plate. Mom then maneuvers over to the counter in front of me, wiping it down. As she does, I can’t help but notice her perfect plump ass again. I then notice her pants slightly riding down her waist, giving me the slightest view of her bare ass. Fuck.
“I’m just glad you’ve got someone to talk to,” she continues, snapping me out of my impure thoughts, “It’s always nice. Especially in your case.”
“Oh, really?” I ask, switching to the next plate, “Why do you say that?”
“Well, with you being friendless for a while, it tells quite a story.”
“I don’t see you with any friends.”
“Honey, take a moment to consider that you exist.”
“…I don’t want to.”
“Exactly. Conversations like these are never fun with your mommy, are they?”
I don’t answer, giving her the impression that she’s right. But for some reason, she isn’t. Damn you, Phoibe.
“Exactly,” she says matter of factly before folding her rag and placing it on the edge of the sink, “Mommy for the win.”
She walks past me, kissing my cheek before leaving the kitchen. Fuck you, Phoibe. I finish washing the rest of the dishes before heading up to my room. After shutting my door, I head over to my bed, collapsing onto it before grabbing my phone from the charger to find something to get my mind occupied on something else.
But that proves to be too much to ask for. I accidentally open an app, not even paying attention to what it is, and all I see is an ad for Mother’s Day. It’s not even the right season for this ad. Why’s it showing up now? I scroll away from the ad and I’m introduced to a step-mom meme. I don’t even read it. I just want it out of my sight. I scroll again, seeing a post about Oedipus. Post after post, scroll after scroll, all I see is mother themed content.
Ok, fuck this app. I close the cursed app, opening my music app to at the very least, clear my mind. After the app loads, I connect my headphones and hit shuffle, just letting the tranquil playlist carry me to my happy place.
This is so nice. Just me, myself, and I. No thinking. No perversion. No intrusive thoughts. Just being carried through the sound of light drums, pianos, and “Hey, Listen!”. Music truly is the greatest.
Now, that doesn’t mean my mind is absolutely clear. Especially when I’m this enthralled with a song. My mind gradually starts wandering, recalling recent events. The guy slapping my ass pops up, the lady I had that really intricate conversation with makes its appearance, traffic then makes its presence known, and finally the conversation I had with Phoibe.
I realize my mistake of allowing that last thought to pass soon after having it, but it’s too late. Mom appears in my mind soon after the thought occurs. Her perfect curves, her tight clothes, her sexy face, her luscious lips, I can’t get her out of my head.
My mind then goes into wondering more intricate things about mom. How soft would she feel against me? How far would she be able to take me in her throat? How tight would she be? How would she look with my cum coating her face? Would she swallow it? How would she look with my cum leaking out of her pussy?
Vulgar thought after vulgar thought. And I can’t stop it. No matter how hard I try to think of something else and no matter how long I wait for the thoughts to pass, it just relents. They’re even getting worse. Her image in my head of all the scenarios I’m putting her in are getting more and more vivid. It’s like she’s right here in front of me in the flesh.