Kink For Mummies Panties! (part 1): At twenty-three years old, I was eating my mother out, and now I’m thirty-eight and still popping around for dinner and blowjobs. I am just your average man from middle America, and this is my story.
I wasn’t born with a mommy kink; it all started when I was young and on the cusp of manhood. Mother had tasked me with the job of carrying our dirty laundry downstairs and putting it in the wash pile. Mummy’s dirty pants were crumpled up on top. Looking back, they had been deliberately placed, although I didn’t know it at the time.
On my way down to the basement, somewhere between flicking on the light switch and fumbling with the door handle, something grabbed my attention. A patch of creamy fluid stood out against the washed-out pink on the inner crotch of mom’s underwear. Filled with all the natural curiosities of a boy my age, I hurried downstairs for a closer look.
There, under the dim light of the basement, I began to peel apart my mother’s pants. They were warm, as if they had just been worn; this intrigued me further!
Excitement coursed through my veins; I knew what I was about to do was forbidden, that I shouldn’t. But something in the damp, comforting heat of my mother’s underwear was calling to me!
Before I knew what I was doing, I had buried my face in their warm embrace.
A salty, wet, and sweet sensation consumed my senses. An intoxicating odor and metallic flavor. So, alien yet familiar I lapped at the epicentre of the mess my mother had left for me.
Before I had a chance to take it all in, I heard the door to the laundry room click open and the soft notes of my mother’s footfalls coming towards me down the stairs. I would later learn that she was coming to check if I had found the present she had left for me, but in my youthful exuberance, I rushed to drop the pants back onto the pile.
Pausing midway down the stairs, mummy stopped, a bundle of towels in her arms. The everyday kindness of my mother’s eyes had been replaced with an inquisitive stare. Not just my mother anymore, but a hot MILF. As her eyes moved from the pants on the floor to meet my wide-eyed gaze. She smiled at me sweetly and continued her descent.
I was transfixed—was this the woman I had always known, who bore me at her breast all those years ago? She seemed to move toward me in slow motion. Her hips swayed from side to side, slowly and deliberately. My mind was swimming with deep desires. We are always told incest is wrong. But this didn’t feel wrong!
With her taste still untouched on my lips, I searched for something to say. Anything! But like my curiosity before me, my mouth betrayed me. For what felt like an eternity, the words escaped me, and she moved ever closer. A nervous excitement filled the room, rising like thunder until she was right in front of me. Standing so close, I could feel her hot breath against my face.
Did she know what I had just done? Or worse, what do I now want to do? What are you waiting for to find out what happens next?Click right here to read the second part, or call me anytime for some roleplay fun! Click Here