Welcome to

Being My Mom

The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.

“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.

I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”

She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”

“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.

We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.

“Fuck, Nick…”

I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.

“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.

She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”

I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.

“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.

Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.

For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.

I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.

“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”

She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”

I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”

She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”

I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”

Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”

“Yeah.”

She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”

A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.

And so it began.

At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.

By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.

And she had no idea it was happening.

“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.

I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”

She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”

But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.

Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.

And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.

Gena was gone.

In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.

She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”

I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”

Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.

And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.

---

At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.

My cock throbbed in my boxers.

“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.

I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.

She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.

The thought made my pulse race even faster.

She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.

“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.

I wanted to bury my face in them.

Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”

She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”

Fuck.

I nearly choked on my food.

The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.

---

After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

Not until she really understood her place.

Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.

Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.

“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”

My heart pounded. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”

Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.

Oh my God. She has no idea.

I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”

She smiled, pleased.

Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.

I leaned in and kissed her.

For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.

“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”

I searched her face. “Why not?”

She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”

“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”

I didn’t wait for her to finish.

This time, when I kissed her, she melted.

Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.

“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.

I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”

Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.

“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.

She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”

Her words sent a thrill through me.

She was mine now, in every way.

And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.

Instead, she spread her legs for her son.

---

Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.

"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"

"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."

She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"

Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.

"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.

"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."

Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.

"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"

Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.

"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"

I didn't.

Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.

Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.

When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.

"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.

"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."

Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.

I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.

Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.

Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.

"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."

Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."

The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.

I started moving.

-----

Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.

"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"

Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.

"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."

"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."

She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.

And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.

"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.

Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"

That was all I needed.

With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.

"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."

I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.

When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.

Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.

"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.

I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."

She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.

Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.

I froze in the doorway.

She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"

I swallowed hard.

She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.

But there was something else.

Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.

Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.

I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.

"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."

She melted into me, her hands finding mine.

And for the first time, I wondered—

Maybe I could have both.

---

The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.

I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.

A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.

Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.

I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.

She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.

Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.

She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”

I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”

She understood.

Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.

“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”

---

We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.

And after dinner?

We really said our goodbyes.

The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.

“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”

“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”

She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.

My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.

“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”

She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.

We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.

And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—

“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”

---

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.

I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.

Instead, I found Gena.

Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.

No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.

All Gena.

I froze.

But then—

She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.

“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”

My pulse exploded.

She remembered.

Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—

“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”

I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.

Yeah.

We definitely would.

(The End.)