Desperate Mothers

DESCRIPTION
How Desperate Can a Mother Get? Busty suburban soccer mom Nancy is at her wit’s end. Her horny son Adam is behaving badly, failing at school, and Googling porn. Desperate, Nancy falls under the spell of the elegant Patrice and her geeky son Joey. Inspired by Japanese mothers, they convince Nancy to try Mother-Son Contact. The results are everything Nancy had hoped for–and more. Having passed her initiation, Nancy joins Patrice's Mothers Club of like-minded moms. But is there more going on than mothers using their large breasts to help their sons control their raging hormones? Can Nancy overcome her personal scars and painful anxiety over the size of her breasts and discover whether someone is secretly manipulating them all?

EXCERPT
Nancy waited fearfully for Adam’s reaction, her pebbled areola and nipple pointing at her son’s lips.

She felt so naked.

So vulnerable.

Her whole life had come down to what her son would do next.

Adam looked into her eyes, at her bare breast, and then her face again.

“Mom!” he exclaimed.

It was part breathless excitement, part unfathomable question. Nancy understood. The primal part of him desperately wanted to believe what he saw and heard. His mother was giving him her breast. But the rational part of him said he should hold back. This couldn’t be.

Nancy reassured him. “It’s okay, honey.”

She cupped her right hand around the back of his neck, raised the left side of her chest, and moved her boob toward his mouth. The taut nipple brushed against his soft lips, and a tantalizing tingle ran through her body. How she longed for him to suck her, to make her feel like a mother again.

“Mommy wants you to do it,” she urged him. “Like when you were younger.”

Adam sighed. “Oh, Mommy.”

Any remaining resistance he had vanished. The warm skin of his cheeks pressed against her firm flesh. His lips wrapped around her nipple, drawing it into his mouth, and he began to suck. She swooned, feeling him tug on her. Her nipple swelled thicker, growing longer and tightening firmer. Her son needed her. Needed her breast.

That completely fulfilling sense of motherhood came roaring back to her. She was nurturing him, feeding him love as she had done when she had nursed him. And he had called her Mommy, the name he used for her when he was younger. Nancy felt so intimate, so close with her son. It was entirely natural, as Patrice had predicted.

But there was something different. As a baby, Adam’s sucking was functionary, an infant’s need to survive. With other men and women, it was about sex. Now, it was about Adam’s need for her as his mother and his love for her as her son.

Nancy cuddled his head to her boob. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “Suck harder.”