The Hot Milf

Author's Note: All characters in this story are 18 or older.

*****

Sally Waters was the most beautiful woman in the city of Leather's Row. She had 38 triple g tits, a forty inch round bubble butt, long silky legs which were just as tan as the rest of her body, a thin waist that would put Lynda Carter to shame, a pair of puffy pink lips, blue eyes, long blonde curly hair that fells down to her shoulders, and beautifully structured cheekbones. As you can imagine, every man in the city wanted her and, for a healthy price, anyone could.

Now, Sally wasn't a prostitute or a whore, as she liked to point out to the guys who addressed her as either of those things. She just liked to charge for her services and no one minded that for one bit. Especially the losers who couldn't get laid on their own.

The biggest loser of them all was a guy named Garth Hen. Garth Hen lived next door to Sally and would always ask her to help him "release some stress" and, of course, she would do so, but not without some regret. You see, Garth wasn't just some loser who didn't know how to dress properly or had a job fixing computers like so many other guys who came to her were. Garth was ugly. Really, really fucking ugly. I mean, put this guy next to Nick Nolte and Nick Nolte would look like Bradley Cooper. He was fat, but not just fat. He was extremely fat. About five hundred pounds. And short, which made his fat body look even worse. He had only a few long strands of hair that hung over the side of his face, a pig-like nose, large bat-like ears, small beady eyes, thin dry lips, two puffy red cheeks which looked like they were going to explode any second, and a super huge double chin that jiggled when he walked, fucked, and laughed. On his chest lay two man tits which were way bigger than Sally's wonderful orbs of pleasure, and under them his belly stuck out over his waist line and cottage cheese looking turkey thighs that made it impossible for him to see his own two inch dick and hairy balls, even with a mirror, and size four feet which were just as hard to see. His back, when he turned around had large man-boob-like pieces of flesh and a lump at the very top that resembled the one the Hunchback of Notre Dame had in the novel. And his ass...well, if you call it an ass, was square and saggy.

As Sally lay on the lawn chair in the middle of her backyard, completely naked, she heard Garth breathing heavily as he climbed down the steps behind his house and hoped he wouldn't come over to her. Don't get her wrong, she loved making money and her job. But if it wasn't for those things, she wouldn't have even acknowledged the existence of the fat fuck and would've gone after much sexier guys in a bar or club or something of that nature. And besides, it was a hot and beautifully sunny day. Even for the money, she didn't want to fuck. She wanted to sit out here in the sun and relax. Unfortunately, before she could even give up her hopes, the fat bastard stepped into her lawn and called out her name.

When she looked, he said, "Hey, how's it going, neighbor?" He wobbled closer to her, the disgusting double chin jiggling like mad. Today he was wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt, open in the middle, red swimming trunks, and black sandals.

"Hey, Garth," she said back to him, a fake smile on her face. "Everything's fine. Just relaxing out here in the sun." So please don't bother me, you fat fuck, she thought.

"That's good," he said, now standing over her, blocking out most of the sun. "So, um..."

Here it goes, she thought.

"...I was wondering. You see, I'm...kind of stressed, and I would love you to help me release some stress."

"Sure," she said, acting excited. "What would you like me to do?" she said. "You wanna a massage? A lecture? Or a Buffet?"

"Boy, I would love to have a buffet," he said, pulling out a roll of hundreds. "But I only have enough for a lecture."

"Okay, then," she said, not giving a shit out his money problems. "A lecture it is." She sat up, her giant tits falling onto her lap, then stood up, grabbed the fat motherfucker's hand, and walked him through the hot grass to her house.

Her house wasn't anything special. Just a little white brick sitting two houses away from the entrance to the Harpies' View subdivision. Sure, with all the money she made off of all the men who visited her, she could've afforded something better, but the truth was, she didn't want anything better. She was happy living in her little house. Plus, having a house like this kept the IRS off her back, and that mattered more than anything else at this point.

Before opening the sliding glass door, Sally looked at Garth, smiled, then turned away. Thank God he has money, she thought. Otherwise I wouldn't be caught dead with this disgusting piece of shit inside of me.

The living room was brightly lit and smelled like fresh flowers and every electronic was off, except for her E-Reader, which sat on the little table under the hanging flat screen, but it was charging, so it was okay.

Closing the sliding glass door, Sally turned around and Garth wrapped his arms around her waist, brought her closer to him and pressed his lips against hers. Despite the annoying feeling of sandpaper rubbing her lips and the horrible smell that came from his mouth, Sally kissed him for quite some time, occasionally wrestling his tongue with her own, tasting today and yesterday's meals, and moaning loud enough for him to think she enjoyed it, then pulled away gently, saying, "Easy, partner. You keep kissing me like that and you'll explode way to early. You don't want that to happen, do you?"

"No, Ma'am," Garth said, big balls of sweat rolling down his face as a putrid scent began to fill the air around him. "That's why I've been practicing on my arm, see?" He showed her his arm. It had a red spot right under the wrist and a couple of more near the elbow. "I imagine I'm kissing you and I haven't blown my load yet, until I'm ready to." He still had his arms around her waist and as he spoke, that hellish scent that left his throat hit her face and she tried her hardest not to grimace.

"Great," she said, forcing herself to smile and sound excited. In all honesty, she hated kissing him. Even more than having sex with him. So this was a nightmare. "But how about we get started on the sex already." Suddenly, before she could think of her next sentence, she looked at the clock on the cable box under the television and saw that it was a quarter to three. Her son, Eric, would be home soon and there was no way in Hell she wanted him to walk in on her having sex. "My son will be home soon," she said, proud of herself for finding the greatest excuse she could, "and I wouldn't want him to catch us in the act, you know what I mean?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, sounding like he had forgotten all about what time her son came home. "But why not? Wouldn't it be more fun that way? Having him watch the entire thing?"

Sally was fine with fetishes. Even weird fetishes. But the idea of her son watching her have sex gave her the chills. He was a handsome guy, to be honest. He was tall, had tan skin, dark long hair that fell down to his shoulders, a hard muscular body complete with a six pack, and an angelic face that drove women crazy, but he was still her son, and that fact put her off ever thinking about him in any other way.

"It would," she said, trying to not sound judgmental. "But I don't think he would feel the same way."

Garth laughed. "Are you kidding me? I bet he does. Every guy would if they had you for a Mom. They'd probably even jerk off to you in the shower every chance they got. I know I would. My mom wasn't that pretty, so I would've killed to have you instead."

Sally pictured her son in the shower, the water running over his hard frame, his hand over his cock, rubbing it relentlessly. She didn't know how big it was exactly, but she knew it was huge because of all the times she had caught him with a boner. Why he had a boner all those times, she didn't know, but now that Garth had mentioned this new idea to her, she wondered if they were for her, and she shook her head.

"Uh," she said, her face getting hot, a chill running up her spine. "Wow. That's...nice. Very sweet of you. But I think we should get going, anyway. I'm sure he has homework. But maybe next time we can ask him to join, okay?"

"All right," Garth said, sounding disappointed. "Lets go."

"Awe, come on, sweetie," she said, "don't sound so sad. "It'll be really fun, okay. I promise."

She took his hand and walked him to her bedroom. Her bedroom was all pink and there were fluffy stuffed animals everywhere and it smelled like scented candles had come in here, farted up a storm, then left.

"Here we are," she said, and turned around.

The fat bastard was still sweating, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He took her in his arms again and kissed her. "I love you so much," he said.

"Thank you," she said. Every time, right before they had sex, he would tell her the same thing. That he loved her. And she would always thank him. She didn't know if he genuinely loved her or if he would just saying that to set the mood, but she didn't care as long as he didn't propose to her. "Now, why don't we get those pants off of you. I'm sure you're cock would love it." She moved her hands under his enormous belly, grabbed the top of his shorts with her thumb and index finger, then pushed them down until they fell by themselves to his ankles.

He stepped out of them, then over to the edge of the bed and sat down, lifting his belly with both hands and parting his legs. His cock and balls looked so tiny when compared to the rest of him, but she imagined that no matter how this motherfucker looked, they would always be the same size.

She moved her eyes allover him. Very sexy, she thought, sarcastically, as she wondered how the fuck something on this beautiful world could be so goddamn ugly. She thought maybe it was the whole Yin and Yang thing. Where there is good, there must also be evil. But in this case, where there is extremely beautiful (her), there must also be extremely ugly (him).

She got in between his legs, dropped to her knees and grabbed his cock with her index finger and thumb. It was hard and rubbery and she stroked it up and down as she said, "You ready for some relief, baby?"

"Yes, baby," he answered, his breaths coming and going in long shaky drags. "Give me some. I need it so bad."

"You poor baby. All those stupid women just pass you by, don't they? None of them want to fuck you?"

"No," he said, sadly. "They don't."

"Well, I'm not like those bitches. I want you. I want you really bad."

"Then take me, baby. Take me real good."

"You betcha," she said, and leaned into his cock, parting her lips and sticking out her tongue.

When she pressed it against the tip of his cock, he gasped, saying, "Oh, fuck, that feels good."

Pre-cum already started dripping out of the hole and she licked it up. It tasted salty and sweet at the same time and she moved her tongue down to his sweet spot, leaving a trail of saliva behind of his head, then danced her loveable pleasure bringer around it.

The fat bastard moaned some more. This time much louder. He asked her to keep doing what she was doing and she did exactly as she was told. Within seconds, the frenulum was soaked in spit and Sally rubbed her index finger under the glans and got an even louder moan. "Oh, my god, baby. That's so sensitive. Keep doing that. Keep doing that. Please. You're gonna make me come."

"Yeah?" she said, still rubbing the glans with her index finger. "I'm gonna make you come?"

"Yes, baby, you're gonna—you're gonna—I'm gonna come! Holy shit!"

Sally wrapped her lips around the head as it twitched and started going up and down really fast on the shaft with her middle finger and thumb.

"Here it comes!" the ugly bastard screamed as he began to fill Sally's mouth up with hot, thick, salty and sweet tasting come.

To keep from gagging, Sally swallowed everything he gave her as soon as it came and, when it was all over, she backed away from his cock, just enough so that he could drop his belly without hitting her on top of her fucking head and looked up at him. "Was that everything you hoped it would be?"

"Oh, yeah, baby." He looked up and flinched. "Holy shit!"

"What?" Sally said, turning to look at the doorway.

There, standing right in the hallway outside her door, looking in, was her son, Eric. Dressed in a black polo, blue jeans, and white sneakers, he had his black book bag over his shoulder and a frightened expression on his face.

Sally's heart leaped into her throat. "Eric!"

"Mom," the eighteen year old said. "What the hell is going on?"

"It's not what it looks like sweetie!" Sally said. "I was just—"

"It is what it looks like," Garth said.

Sally glared at him. He had a huge grin on his face. "Garth!"

"You're mother gave me a blowjob and it was the best I ever had."

"Garth, stop it!" She turned to her son. "Honey, don't listen to him! Garth, get out of here now. Leave before you really piss me off."

Garth stood up. "Okay, okay. No need to get so mad. I'm just stating the facts."

"Well, don't. Don't you see how scared he is. Stop telling him things."

Walked over to his shorts and picked them up. "He was bound to find out eventually, don't you think. I mean, you have fucked everyone, haven't you?" He took the roll of money out of his shorts and dropped it on the bed behind the gorgeous whore before him. "Thanks again, Sally. I really needed that."

Sally took the money and closed both hands around it under breasts, as if to hide it, and then realized she was naked and threw her arms over her hardened nipples.

As Garth passed her son, he rubbed the top of the boy's head, messing up his hair, saying, "Don't be too upset, kid. You gotta good Mom, there. She's just doing it to make sure you have food on the table." He left.

Sally's skin had grown hot at some point during the whole incident and she had little doubt that it was also red. "Honey," she said, looking not at him, but around him. "I think we should talk."

"Mom, is it true what he said? Are you a...a prostitute?"

"No," she said, bringing the sheet that covered the bed down to her level. "I'm not a prostitute." She covered herself with the sheet.

"Then why did you accept money," her son said.

Without thinking, Sally moved her eyes down to her crotch and saw that he had a boner. Oh, my god, she thought. It is for me.

"Mom."

She shook herself out of thought, saying, "I, uh...I just do it sometimes so we can have money. I don't have a pimp or anything. I'm freelance, I guess you can call it." She stood up, the sheet falling over to the side, revealing her pussy, for just a second, then wrapped it around her voluptuous frame, the money still in her hand. "Honey, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I...I was too afraid to. I..." She turned around and put her head down in shame. She had never felt ashamed before about having sex for money. So this felt really, really weird. "God, I feel so stupid."

"Don't, Mom," her son said, his voice sounding close.

When she turned around, her son wrapped his around her waist and pulled her close to him. Eric!" she shrieked, a shiver running up her spine.

"You're not stupid. You're perfect." He leaned into her, pressing his lips against hers, their bodies becoming one for a moment, and she pushed him away.

"Eric, what the fuck is wrong with you? Get off of me." She tried to break free from his arms, pushing herself away from him, slapping his arms, chest, and face like a madwoman, but he was way too strong.

Keeping an arm around her waist, he moved the other up to the back of her head and pulled it close to his face and pressed his lips against hers, and, after a moment of continuing to fight him, she relaxed and let it happen. Not because she wanted to, but because she believed that the sooner he did what he wanted, the sooner it would be over. But despite how she thought about the situation, her body betrayed her. Her pussy swelled with her sweet woman-juice, her heart picked up speed, and her breathing slowed down and become heavier. Maybe her shivering at the thought of her son getting hard for her all those times was actually her body telling her that she wanted this. She didn't know. But she couldn't deny that it was starting to feel good.

Her son pulled away from her and looked into her bright blue eyes. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, Mom."

"You shouldn't have done that, Eric," she said, breathing hard. "I'm your mother, not your woman. It's wrong."

"No, it's not, Mom."

"Yes, it is. It's very wrong."

"Who says?"

"I do."

"Why? Why is it wrong?"

Sally's sheet had been falling off of her, revealing the top half of her breasts and opening fully in the back, but she hadn't noticed until now. She went to pick up her sheet, but her son grabbed her hand and moved it away.

"Eric, I'm naked," she exhaled.

"Shhh. Just relax, Mom. Let it fall." He grabbed the sheet with the hand he had been using to hold her head, the front of his fingers brushing the flesh of her breast, and she gasped.

"Eric, don't."

He loosened his grip on her waist and dropped the sheet on the floor, revealing to him her gorgeously tan, voluptuous body.

She put her arms over her breasts, creating a very sexy image of her breasts spilling over the top of them, but that wasn't what he wanted. So he grabbed the wrist of the arm closest to him and moved it down.

She picked it up again and, obviously frustrated, he moved it down again. "Mom, please. I can see it on your face. You want it to happen. So let it happen." He let go of her waist and moved her other her and brought them down to her sides.

Her fat, juicy tits dangled in between them as her face and chest grew bright red and hot.

Her son admired them for quite some time, then looked up at her face. "My, god, Mom. You are so beautiful."

She locked her eyes on his and her heart melted. For a moment there, she was completely against him, even using violence to make him stop his advancement on her, but now she realized something she had realized before but was looking at the wrong way: He was her son. Her beautiful boy. The only man in her life that she could love and trust without regret. And he loved her, too. Unconditionally. If he wanted to fuck her, why not let him? So what if he was her son? He was a good man and that was all that mattered, wasn't it? Yes, she thought. It was.

He leaned in to kiss her again and before he got halfway, she moved forward and pressed her lips against his and, after a moment, parted their mouths, and wrestled each other with their tongues, their breaths coming and going hard, the sound of sucking and kissing filling the air, their arms exploring each other's body.

When he pulled her closer to him, his cock poked her pussy and she moaned. He must've felt it, too, because he also moaned and stopped kissing her to move back about a step and look down at his boner.

"You want me to take care of that," she said.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, looking up at her, a smirk on his face.

"I wasn't asking." She put a hand on it and started rubbing it through his jeans.

Eric looked down at what she was doing. "Oh, Mom," he sighed, his eyes fighting very hard not to roll back in his head.

"You like that?" she said.

"Oh, fuck yeah. I love it."

"Hey, watch your tongue," she said, not in an angry tone, but in a way that let him know she was serious. "I may be rubbing your cock, but I'm still your mother."

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just—it"—he took a deep breath—"it feels so good."

"It's okay," she said. She looked at the bed, then back at him, biting her lip. "How about we go to the bed, get more comfortable."