What happens when your mom is a MILF? In these four taboo tales, the passionate desires of young men cannot be restrained. Sons will seduce their mothers—and sometimes mothers seduce their own sons! This bundle includes four previously published e-books: My Mother's Secret Lover, My Mind-Controlled MILF, How I Seduced My Hot Young Stepmom, and Mom, Will You Take My Virginity?
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
I wrung the towel tight between my fingers. I couldn't get them dry enough. I'd never get them dry enough. “Adam…” I said. “Last night, I…I don't know what happened…”
I was just in a simple old t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans with the knees worn down. Adam was in the same clothes he'd worn last night, the clothes he'd been in when he pulled my pants off and ate me. I took a deep breath, and I smelled him, and I remembered…
“Mom-" he started.
“I'm sorry,” I gasped out, and bolted.
It was the stupidest thing I could have done, but my heart was already pounding, the blood was singing in my ears. If I'd stood my ground one second longer, staring up into his dark, beautiful eyes, I would have burst. I would have exploded from shame and lust and my own torturous confusion. Adam called after me as I pushed the back door open and went tearing across the backyard.
I winced as my bare foot crumpled a discarded beer can, but I kept running. Behind me, I heard the door swing open and shut again, and I knew Adam was in pursuit. He was so much bigger than me, so much stronger. But I kept running. I kept running down to where the ground sloped and the lawn narrowed to my garden. Beyond it was the trees, the old friendly trees I knew so well. What was I thinking? That I could hide here, forever? From myself and my son and the awful truth?
He caught up with me on the edge of the garden, where the flat yard gave way to the wild forest beyond. Fingers like steel snapped around my wrist. I was panting and he was the only thing keeping me on my feet.
“Don't-" I gasped. The tears were streaming down my face and I was blinking so fast I couldn't see. “Don't ask, Adam. Just don't. Let's let it be-" I'd never breathe again, I thought; I was going to have a heart attack.
“Mom!” he shouted into my face. “Just calm down, okay? Just— Just tell me what happened.”
“It was me, Adam,” I sobbed. “I was in there, in the room. I didn't know who you were and it had been so long since I'd felt anything and-" It all poured out of me. “The way you kissed me, the way you touched me, the way your c— The way your body felt, I just couldn't stop myself. I wanted it.” My nose was running and I hated myself for worrying how ugly I must have looked to him then. “I wanted it!” I screamed into his face. “And when I realized it was you, I-I didn't care! I just wanted to feel good! I wanted to feel like someone loved me and cared about MY pleasure! I'm so tired, Adam. And I didn't feel tired when you…” I forced myself to say it. “…when you were inside me…”
The sobs wrenched out of me. I didn't dare look at him. I couldn't bear it. Not from my son, my baby. It was hard enough living with my shame, I couldn't bear anymore. I wasn't strong enough. “Please go…” I gasped, my chest aching. “Please just go and…and you don't ever have to look at me again.”
His fingers tightened around my arms. They tightened so hard I just had to look at him. And his eyes. His onyx eyes weren't ashamed. He put his thumb on my chin. “I didn't know you felt that way,” he said, breathless. “You should feel loved, mom. Every day.”