Maid for Serving: A Kinkston-Tale

Maid for Serving: A Kinkston-Tale

Our little town, Kinkston, was in a strange and unique location. You see, the way the land curved, 

and the way the maps were drawn, just didn’t line up quite right. As a result, you had the United 

States, and then, 3 steps over our town line, you had a town that was, technically, either its own 

country, or a no man's land. I won’t bore you with the political details, not when the important part 

is this… we had no fucking laws. 

I mean, we had laws. But, just, “don’t be an asshole” was basically the law of the land. So… we 

had 18 different kinds of prostitution. Because of course we did! People from the US could drive 

15 minutes, and sate their every sordid sexual desire, and we, as a community, were all too 

happy to build a town rooted in enjoying hedonistic pleasures without consequences. 

It was tough to pull off at first, and we benefited from a lot of luck, but at the end of the day, we 

basically built paradise on Earth. Many of our businesses had a sexual edge to them. You could 

get a regular car wash, or have your car washed by beautiful people, in skimpy to no clothing, in 

almost any gender or theme you could imagine.

Plus, it wasn’t like we stopped at car washes. Imagine a hotel where a wake-up call is your 

choice between a ringing phone, or a good morning blow job. Or a jewelry store that offers flash 

sale discounts based on how well you can go down on your salesperson. And as for gambling, 

we are the only location that offers a, choose your opponent, no holds barred, strip poker 

tournament. 

But all of that is just where I live, not where I work. Personally, I get by as a MILF/Hostess in a “full 

service” maid cafe. The setup is simple, but fun. The good, upstanding, hardworking people of 

this world spend all day at college or at work, and they study hard, and work hard, and get 

bossed around, talked at, and given orders all day. But, when they come to our little cafe, things 

work differently. We offer tasty foods, zero judgements, and all of our staff are smiling, sweet, 

and on the menu. We dress up as maids and servants, and when you are in our restaurant, you 

are the boss, and you are the master (so long as you remember the “Don’t be an asshole law, of 

course). “How may I serve you mistress? Another beer sir? And while you are enjoying your 

apple pie, would you like a blowjob to go with it? I see… and, based on your previous selections, 

would you like to upcharge and add a little role play to that blowjob, Daddy?” 

Of course, my own, personal specialty was “playing Mommy”, but that came in many forms. 

Whether you flavor it as a “Boss”, a “Teacher”, a “Stern Aunt”, or just your typical “Older Woman” 

fantasy; I am who most men choose for all of their busty Milf needs. 

With… one exception. You see, in a town where I could be anyone or anything I wanted, it wasn’t 

exactly an accident that I chose to whore myself out as slutty “Mom for Hire”. I could have 

worked in a regular cafe, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun for me, because, 

honestly… I LOVE my work. It turns out that when the law and society get off your fucking back 

about it, being a slut is nothing but pleasure and fun. Especially when, like me, you get to play out 

all your dirtiest fantasies and get paid to do it. Speaking of which…

When my Son turned 18, he started to roam the town. We had a lot of naughty businesses, but 

they were in their own district, so that kids or people who didn’t want to participate could be kept 

at a safe distance. Like all the local (and not so local boys) who come of age, my Son was filled 

to the brim with curiosity about all those places he’d heard of but never been allowed to see. He’d 

saved up, and was spending the day checking out all the businesses that he’d previously been 

denied entry to. And, well, I just about came where I stood when he walked in the door of my little 

cafe. 

Now, me personally, I’d had a Son fetish for as long as I’d been masturbating. My husband and I 

met because we both enjoyed incest role play, and when I found out what a voyeur he was, and 

that he was not only okay with sharing me, but deeply into it; I knew I’d found a match. 

But there is a big damn difference between playing someone's Mom, and watching your real, 

handsome, beautiful Son, walk in the door of your place of business with a wad of cash in his 

pocket because he’s looking to get his cock sucked. 

So, I put my hand out to hold back our usual greeter, and with a sinful smile, I walked out to greet 

the cafe’s newest customer. As I walked towards him, my skirt swished and moved. The skirt 

was styled so that every movement and gentle breeze saw it trailing upward, and short enough 

that I only needed to lift my leg up a little bit to reveal the panties, that I would happily drop, for the 

right price or the right person. I took a menu in hand, and bowed low when I got to him; “Hello my 

Son and Master. If it pleases you, follow me.”

I knew that he was getting a show when I bowed forward. After all, I wore panties because some 

boys liked taking them off me, and others would pay a hefty sum to keep them as a trophy, but a 

bra was out of the question. The top that I wore was blousy, loose fitting, and stretched easily. 

So, when I leaned forward, my very large tits may not have fallen out of my top, but they did give 

the impression that it was a possibility. 

As he followed me to the table, I made sure to put a gate in my walk that had literally made men 

cum in their pants before. A sexy little sway of the hips that made men and women alike think 

wicked thoughts about me when they saw it. After he was seated, I could see that he was 

blushing fiercely, and god help me it was just another turn on. 

I smiled for him, told him he had nothing to worry about, that touring the red-light district was a 

normal thing that every boy his age did, etc… Then I offered to walk him through the menu, tell 

him about how things worked, and just generally assure him that he was in a judgement free 

zone and speaking with the best possible person about all of this. 

I started him off slowly, guiding him through the literal foods and drinks that were exactly what 

they looked like, plus a little harmless flirting. I then warned him that, from that point forward, 

everything on the menu got a little more… adult. From there, I showed him how to request things 

with his food and drink, like a blowjob with desert, a private bath after his meal with a bather to 

help scrub down all his hard to reach places, and, of course, all of the role play options available 

to him. 

When I got to the Mother/Son stuff he had the good graces to look surprised, and ask me if 

people really asked for that kind of thing. From what I could tell, his surprise was real, but his 

tone was more curious than anything else, and so I answered him in both the most wicked, and 

most honest way that I could. 

I sat down beside him, and placed my hand on his thigh in a way that would probably have been 

reassuring in any other context but now had the potential to be either an innocent comfort touch 

from Mom, the baker of cookies, or a seductive advance from Mom, the whore. I then proceeded 

to tell him that a Mother fetish was one of, if not THE most common fetish. That many men from 

out of town, and many boys from within town, came for that exact thing. 

It took him a second to process what I’d said, but then the light went on, I tried not to grin too 

much when, as I’d predicted, he asked what I’d meant about “the boys from within our town”. To 

that, I asked him if, looking just at the table he was sitting at with me, he saw anyone he thought 

was qualified to play a Mom; and let me tell you, the look he gave me when he put it together was 

priceless. To his credit, in the last 20 minutes he’d discovered that his busty, sexy Mom worked 

in the red-light district. That she worked, as a sex worker, in a place that catered to fantasies. 

That the fantasies that were catered to included Mom/Son fantasies, AND, that it was his Mom 

who “played Mom” when someone had that particular fetish. Though he was beet red, and his 

breathing was getting progressively shallower, I’d say he was taking it all like a champ. But 

honestly… I was just getting started. 

I went on to explain that yes, I played “Mommy” for people who wanted to fuck, and get sucked 

off by their own Mothers. I also asked him to think about how many of his friends had 

commented on my looks over the years, and would be wandering the district, same as he was, 

now that they had graduated high school. Then I broke it to him simply, saying, “Now sweetie, if 

men will travel for hundreds of miles to have me, a stranger, pretend to be their Mom while also 

being their whore; just imagine how much more appealing it would be for local boys, who DO 

know me, and do recognize me.”

My hand had crept up his thigh a bit to give a reassuring squeeze, and I almost shuddered with 

pleasure when I brushed against the outline of a very impressive, and very hard cock straining 

beneath his pants. I did my best to pretend I didn’t notice, but I sure as hell didn’t move my hand 

away either. 

Then taking it further, I added, “That’s why we are open all day honey. While the dinner crowd 

brings in all the tourists, and the breakfast crowd is mostly the overnighters, I can honestly say 

that I get, just, PACKED with you college boys every day at around lunch.” I enjoyed watching his 

face as I “mistakenly” said that I was getting packed instead of the restaurant. But not as much 

as I enjoyed the look on his face when I ran my hand down his thigh a bit, and then back up it as I 

spoke. Once again “accidentally” brushing his hard cock, and pretending not to see his eyes roll 

up, or lips part slightly in a suppressed moan. 

Now though, now was the trickiest part. After all, he was a horny teenager, and I could lead any 

horny teenager around by his cock up to a certain point, but how far was he willing to go?

I pretended to brush off what we’d been talking about and, without moving my hand off his leg, I 

continued to go through the menu, now pointing out how each thing might pair with the role play. 

How each thing might include me. I did my best to be descriptive. To make him picture me 

engaged in every possible lewd act as if it were his idea instead of mine. I pointed out how you 

could order “your Mother” to make an ice cream sundae, and serve it on her tits, and how to 

indicate if you wanted her to present it to you in a way that was sweet, slutty, or angry about it. I 

showed how different attitudes could be paired with different acts, and I was sure to give 

examples like; “And so, if you ordered this with ‘angry’ flavoring, for example, I might kneel down 

on the cafe floor and wrap my tits around your cock. But then I would say something like, ‘I can’t 

believe you are making your own Mother give you a tit-fucking in public! Honestly sweetie, what’s 

next?! Are you going to cum on my face? Your own Mother’s face, and while all these people 

watch you use me like a whore?!” 

When I was done acting it out for him, I dropped my hand to his thigh again to give it another 

squeeze, but this time I dropped it right where I knew his hard-on would be. I gave a little 

squeeze again, this time it was partially to his leg, and partially to his throbbing and rock-hard 

cock, but as always, I did so quickly, and pretended not to notice what I’d done as I moved my 

hand away and went back to pointing things out on the menu. 

For each thing that a man could order, I was sure to speak, truthfully, as someone who had 

provided these services. Like when I told him, “Oh, I got an order for one of these just yesterday.” 

Or when I casually remarked, “Oh yes, I do get a lot of requests for that. Especially from boys 

your age. What is it about you college boys and wanting to gangbang someone's Mom?”

I read through the menu, as slowly, and as descriptively as possible, but eventually, my fun had 

to come to an end. As I finished up the last page, and brushed my hand, ever so casually, back 

down to my Son’s knee, I got the impression that I had done so just in time. 

He was flushed. It was a nice cool day, but he was sweating. The air was sweet and clean, but 

he was struggling to breath. I had a sudden flash of an idea; that if I were to pull my top down, 

grab his cock, tell him to cum for his Mom, and just start jerking it through his pants, that he 

would be screaming and cumming within seconds. Somehow, through force of will, I resisted 

that temptation. 

He wasn’t the only one having trouble with fogged up thoughts, and wet underwear. I was 

struggling to breathe a little myself, and I had to admit, it suddenly felt awfully hot in that little 

booth of ours. His eyes were laser locked on to the heavy rise and full of my cleavage, and when 

I caught him staring he tried to look back up to my eyes, only to fail, try again, fail, try again, fail… 

It was adorable, and hot, but I was also a little worried for him. I’d tried with my tone to play it all 

off as a cross between the consummate professional, and the easy to approach Mom; but it was 

a lot. 

I found myself suddenly worried that he might think he was a bad person; despite everything I’d 

said. Or worse, think I thought poorly of him because he was suddenly lusting after Mommy. I 

wasn’t sure what to go with at that moment, but I decided to try to play a longer game than the 

quick and dirty seduction that I’d been hoping for. 

“So, tell me slugger, do you like to watch?” I said it ever so sweetly, but his reaction of “What?!”, 

was equal parts curious, defensive, exposed, and shocked. He wasn’t sure if he should feel 

mad, or insulted, or if he should play it cool, and it showed. So, I led by example, and played it 

cool. “Well, I know your Dad sure does. Watching is just about his favorite thing. Especially if it's 

me he’s watching,” I added with a playful, and reassuring wink. 

“I tell you what kiddo… why don’t you pop into one of our private booths really quick, and I’ll have 

one of the girls, come and ‘take care of you’.” I said with a highly suggestive tone. “Then, I want 

you to try coming back tomorrow, same time, and I’ll get you set up in one of our private booths 

with a view. You’ll be able to see the cafe’, but the cafe won’t be able to see you. We’ll try that, 

every day, for the rest of this week, and then you can see what you like, and get a better idea for 

what you want.” 

He seemed to be calming down, and he was nodding, and smiling that nervous smile when you 

are so relieved that it makes you almost giddy. So, I patted his leg again, just at the knee, and 

told him where to go while I directed one of my girls to go and take real good care of him. 

When I saw the girl that I’d sent to him, later on that day, she was wearing a ‘cat that ate the 

canary grin’. At first, I thought she was just being a tease because she knew she’d just had 

something that I’d been craving for years. But she just kept giving me those ‘I know something 

you don’t know’ eyes, and flashing that grin, until finally, I cracked. “Okay, okay, what!? What are 

you, obviously, dying to tell me?!” She laughed, and then got very close for some conspiratorial 

whispering. 

Then she told me that when she’d gone to ‘service’ my Son, she played it off like she didn’t know 

who he was. More than that, she spent time chatting me up, and talking about how she’d seen 

him sitting with me, and she just thought I was so sexy, etc… Then… apparently, she told him 

that she’d always wanted to try ‘that Mom/Son’ role play-thing that I did, but she must not have 

had the right look because no one ever asked her. 

This, of course, wasn’t true. I was the person who handled those requests, as a general rule, 

because it was my specialty. But any girl who wanted to, could (if that was what the client 

wanted too, of course). Nonetheless, that was what she’d told my kid, and… she was all too 

happy to tell me, that he either fell for her pity play, or was just looking for an excuse because he 

said that if SHE really wanted to try it, that he would be okay with it. 

“No!” I Exclaimed. Shocked and excited. “You didn’t! He didn’t!!!” 

But she was nodding and smiling even as I said it. She said, “It didn’t take long of course. After 

all, you teased the hell out of that poor boy before handing him off to me. But yeah. When I could 

tell he was getting close, I asked him if he was gonna, ‘cum for his mamma’. And when he 

popped, I aimed that, rather impressive cock of his, at my face, and told him, flat out, to cum on 

Mommy’s Face.”

She was so pleased with herself, and I was giddy with the idea that he’d so obviously confessed 

to having a thing for me. And by god, if he wanted to cum on my face, all he had to do was ask... 

The week went by, and we stuck to the plan. He would come in every day before the lunch rush, I 

would greet him at the door as if he were a normal customer, and then I would guide him to one 

of our private (read voyeur) booths. I’d grab him a drink, or make him a sandwich, and then I’d go 

about my workday. 

When I was in the booth with him, I was Mom. I even made his sandwiches myself, just to give it 

that little extra touch. But when I left the booth, I was the slutty cafe’ worker, looking for a master 

to please. As a result, for 2 days straight, my Son spent a couple hours each day in the cafe, 

watching all the public stuff play out. He saw what we did, and how we did it. But, most 

importantly, he saw me. He watched me play the serving girl/temptress, and on the 3rd day, he 

saw something that I’d warned him would happen… 

Two of his friends came into the cafe, and they quickly realized that I was there, who I was, and 

what they meant for them. Oh, they debated it a bit, but not over whether or not to request me, 

there real friends, real Mother. 

No, the only dilemma they ran into was that they both wanted me to play their Mom. In the end, 

they flipped for it; but the loser was very ungracious about it. 

They both agreed that they wanted me slutty, and wanton, but the boy who was not playing my 

Son decided to be very aggressive about it. I am not sure if he was playing out a fantasy, trying to 

be mean, or playing out a fantasy for the other boy; but whatever the reason was, he took charge 

of the situation quickly. One minute he was standing behind me and playing with my tits, asking 

his friend if he thought his Mom’s tits looked good, and if he thought it was hot that she was 

moaning while his friend groped her. Then, the next thing I know, I was bent over the table and 

practically staring at the face of the poor kid who was playing my Son. All while his friend lifted 

my skirt, and shoved his cock into me. He was fucking me from behind, and rattling the dishware 

as I grabbed onto the table and began moaning about how good it felt. 

Then he started describing it, telling the kid that his Mom had a tight cunt, and that she was so 

wet for him. Then… he told me to describe it to him too! Well, they were both my clients, so I 

searched the kids face for a half a second to make sure he was enjoying this, but a quick glance 

showed that, not only did he look into it, but his hand was moving busily under the table; so I took 

that as approval. 

And now that I knew what they were both into…

“Fuck!” I moaned loudly. And, fun fact, when someone has known you for years, and never heard 

you swear, hearing you yell one out in pleasure is an instant pleasure rush. It's like a little taste of 

forbidden fruit. But I was interested in giving these boys so much more than just a little taste. 

So…

I banged my hands down on the table noisily and got a good grip, as I whimpered and moaned 

under the assault. Then I put my face right up in the face of the kid who was playing my Son, and 

let him see how much I was loving the pounding that I was getting. Then, I told him about it. I told 

him that I could feel his friend's big cock stretching me out, as it filled up his Mother’s tight little 

pussy. I told him that his buddy was pounding his Mom like a whore in front of the whole cafe’. 

And most importantly, I told him I LOVED it. 

I told him, loud enough for his friend to hear, that I’d been dreaming about the two of them walking 

into that cafe and double fucking me ever since they turned 18. That I couldn’t believe they were 

finally doing it, and that they were making me feel so fucking good. 

After only a minute or two, I noticed that the boy playing my Son was staring at my tits as they 

shook and swayed from the pounding his friend was giving me. And that, as he stared, he 

started to bite his lower lip, and his hand started to go faster. Then, as if on cue, his friend started 

fucking me a litter harder, and a little more erratically. 

At that point, I asked the boy in front of me if it was okay with him that his Mom was such a slut. I 

told him that I couldn’t wait until it was his turn. Couldn’t wait for him to feel his cock wrapped up 

all snug inside his Mother’s pussy, as he fucked me nice and hard. 

He was trying to answer, but he was a little too close for forming the right words, so I told him to 

kiss me, and I slipped my tongue into his mouth and kissed him passionately. Then he was 

cumming, jerking his cock hard under the table while his friend’s thrusts gave our Mother/Son 

kiss a distinct rocking motion. 

I got down on the table more so I could free up a hand, and I ran it through his hair, and held him 

to my lips as he moaned into my mouth, and I moaned into his. He came hard, and all over the 

bottom of the table, but his friend, impressively, hadn’t yet. So, as he came down off his orgasm, 

and started to relax back into his seat, I winked at him and told him, “Watch this. Mommy’s about 

to give you a visual you are going to want to remember for later”. 

Then I looked over my shoulder at his friend, propping myself back up again on my hands, and 

asked him if he’d been wanting to get that cock in me for a while. In response, he clenched his 

teeth, tightened his grip, closed his eyes, and I could almost hear him doing math in his head as 

he struggled not to cum. 

He was on the football team at my Son’s high school (before they graduated), and I’d nicknamed 

him “Sport” a long time ago, as a result of him being the first of the boys to really take up the 

game. It was just a little term of endearment that I’d used with him since he was a much younger 

man. Of course, that was no kid slamming seven inches of cock into me. But, none the less, I 

knew it would land hard when I said, “Tell me honestly Sport. Does my pussy feel as good as you 

imagined it would?” Then I shot the boy in the booth a wink as I added, “Are you finally going to 

get to cum on your friend's Mom?” The kid playing my Son liked that last part so much he 

actually started touching himself again. 

I was in control, but it wasn’t easy. I had already had two real orgasms, and the way my Son’s 

friend was fucking me was exactly how I liked it. Still, in between moans, and through 

occasionally gritted teeth of my own, I managed to ask him, “Where do you want to shoot all that 

hot cum Sport? Do you want it on my face, down my throat, or on my tits?”

And that was that. He pulled out and started jacking it furiously as he gestured and begged me to 

let him cum on my tits. I slid off the table and a dish or two came with me as I hit my knees in 

front of him. 

I held up my tits for him, and I gave him the eye contact and intensity that he’d earned as I told 

him to shoot that hot fucking cum all over my tits. I told him I wanted it, and I meant it. And with 

each hot splash I moaned in appreciation, only deviating when he accidentally shot a blast onto 

my chin. 

At that point, I turned towards the boy playing my Son, who looked like he was already hard again 

and working on a second orgasm as I, his Mom, glanced over at him from my knees. His friend 

was cumming on my tits in a crowded cafe while people watched, and I winked at him and blew 

him a kiss while his buddies cum ran down from my lower lip and hung lewdly off my chin. 

A couple of people clapped and whistled when we were done, which wasn’t unusual. Like I said, 

a Mommy fantasy is very common, even if having the courage to play it out isn’t. The boys got 

themselves cleaned up, and when they came back out, they saw me already cleaned and 

redressed, busing their table and cleaning up the mess we’d made. Then, of course, they both 

offered to help. They were good boys, after all. 

I wouldn’t have let them hang out with my Son so often if they hadn’t been good kids. As it was, 

they were two of his best buddies, and had spent half of the last 10 years either at our house, or 

with my Son over at theirs. 

The two boys finished helping me clean, and then promised to be back in a week or two when 

they could afford it again. But next time they wanted to trade places and have the other one play 

my Son. They asked if it was okay, and I ruffled their hair, and told them that, of COURSE it was. 

I added that now that they were old enough to “visit the district”, they were old enough to know 

that visiting wouldn’t change our relationship at all. I could be one person in the cafe’, while still 

being the same person they’d always known outside of work. We talked for a few more minutes 

about their everyday lives, and then they left and went about their day. 

Oh and, in case you were wondering, no. It was not lost on me that the whole time that the role 

play had been happening, my Son had secretly been watching from the corner. In fact, I would 

have given anything to see his reaction when they’d had me talking about a friend fucking me in 

front of my Son! Or to know if, seeing me with cum all over me, had made him hard… I wished I 

could have directed some of my attention his way during the whole debacle, but that wasn’t how 

the job worked. So, when I was done with the table, and his friends had left, I instead brought him 

a fresh beverage; and, like nothing had happened, I asked him if he was enjoying the show today. 

His response of “yeah”, was so serious and so heavy, that it made me really excited to think that 

I knew which part he had enjoyed most. 

Then, finally, Friday came. 

I started the last day of our little arrangement like all the others. When my Son came in, I greeted 

him as his slutty slave, but once we were at his private table, I switched right back into being his 

normal, everyday Mom. I asked him if, since it was his last day of free viewing, he wanted to 

order anything special off of the menu, or if he just wanted a soda for now. To my 

disappointment, he said he was still thinking, and had me bring him a drink. 

The day preceded pretty normally. The lunch rush came and went. I did what I do, along with all 

the other girls, and somewhere, in total privacy, my Son was watching it all. It was in the lull 

between lunch and dinner when the locals were “spent”, and the tourists had yet to arrive when 

the most amazing opportunity dropped into my lap. 

One of the girls came over and told me that someone had requested me specifically, but that he 

had an odd request. When I went to him and offered my service, he explained to me that he’d 

seen the show yesterday and thought it was incredibly hot (he meant me and my Son’s friends). 

He confessed that he’d never really thought about that particular fetish, before that day, but now 

he was thinking about nothing else. 

When I asked if he wanted me to play Mom for him, he blushed and looked away. It turned out 

that he didn’t feel ready for that yet. But he was really interested in the idea, and wanted to know 

if he could watch again. 

Now, we get this request, because, OF COURSE WE DO. So, normally, I would have one of the 

male servers lend a hand and fill in the needed role. It is very rare for us to combine two 

customers' fantasies without them specifically asking for it. 

However, this was just too good an opportunity to pass up, and so… I decided to go for it. I went 

back to my Son’s table and explained what the man had said. Then I told him that, I understood if 

he couldn’t, but that I could really use his help. 

“Pleassse? For Mommy?” I pleaded teasingly. 

There was a long pause. Like, way too long for my anxiety levels. But when he asked me what 

“helping” would entail, I actually squealed with joy and jumped up and down a bit. I couldn’t help 

myself!

I spent the next few minutes explaining that the man wanted to see a Son and Mother role play, 

and that, since there were no other customers… I wanted my real Son to step up and be my 

pretend son. I gave him all the details that the man had requested, and when he felt ready, I led 

him, by the hand, back over to the man’s table. 

When we were back at the table, I did exactly what I’d told my son to expect. I sat down across 

from the man, and I introduced myself again, and this time I introduced my Son as well. He 

looked between us, and commented that we really did look like we could be Mother and Son. 

Then, I rocked him to his core, and informed him that the reason he looked like my real Son, was 

because he WAS my real Son. I then spent the next 10 minutes or so letting the man order us all 

food and drinks, as I explained who I was, what I did for a living, how I found my husband, my 

Son’s recent age change and graduation, etc… This was actually pretty normal. When someone 

asks for a Mommy Role play, I will often just sit with them through their meal and play their Mom 

to normalize the idea. Then, after they have it in their head that I AM their Mom, I let them get 

naughty, with their Mom. This, was like that. 

My Son and I spent a meal with him just talking. I boasted about his achievements, and the 

things I was proud of. I let him talk about his experience in finding out where I worked, and what I 

did for a living. And we concluded with explaining our little week long project, and how it had led 

to him watching the same show that had led our client to come back and request us. 

When we were done, he was sold. He 100% percent believed that we were Mother and Son. 

Which was good, because of it being true and all. ;)

At one point, he outright asked us, “So… Can I watch you two, you know. Do it?”

It was coy, and cute. But he had a point. My Son and I slipped out of the booth, and the tension 

was thick. I’d fantasized about ravaging him and about him ravaging me, but right in that 

moment, he seemed kind of nervous, and I wanted to soothe my baby boy. “Let’s start slow”, I 

purred.

Then I wrapped my arms up around his neck, and I began to gently kiss his neck. I gave little 

licks, and little sweeps of my lips as I teased up along his skin, and began to gently lick and 

nibble at his ear lobe. There was a height difference, so I had to grind myself against him a little 

bit to reach where I wanted to reach, but the hard cock pressing into me through our clothes told 

me that he didn’t mind. 

Eventually, I took his face in my hands and told him, “Kiss me”. Our lips met with such intensity. 

We were going slow, and kissing gently, but it felt AMAZING. Every brush, every touch, every flick 

of the tongue sent pleasure coursing through our whole bodies as we explored one another’s 

mouths. 

We had spent several long minutes making out, and I had intended to keep this pace and slowly 

devour him over the course of hours, but then the client's voice interrupted us. “I can’t fucking 

take it anymore, fuck her! Fuck her before I fucking cum!!” 

I had a thought about how inconvenient that interruption was, and how I would need more time. 

But, I was wrong. 

One moment I was sweetly pulling away from our kiss, and the next, I felt young, strong hands 

grip my top, and pull down hard enough to rip one of the straps clean off. My Son grabbed the 

front of my outfit and jerked it down, exposing both my tits. A split-second later he was on them, 

and I moaned for everything I was worth. His lips locked onto one of my nipples and he grabbed 

my ass with both hands to pull me into him as he sucked hard on one of my tits. 

Then he wasn’t just sucking, but licking, and even biting. The pain only served to triple my 

pleasure, as he aggressively worked on my tits while his hand gripped and grabbed and 

squeezed my ass over and over again. He couldn’t seem to get enough. He was like a starving 

beast, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I came! Just from him sucking on my 

breasts! He pulled his mouth away with a growl and began to undo his pants. I was very much in 

favor of that, and found myself unbuttoning his shirt in a frenzied daze. Anxious to get him naked, 

and see his body hovering over me. But I didn’t even get to finish with his shirt. 

I had most of it done when he seized my wrists in his grip, and spun me around so that I was 

facing a nearby dessert table. He pulled my panties down just enough to see my pussy, and then 

he grabbed my hips with one hand, and with the other quickly moving to the top of my back, he 

forced me down onto the table. I actually crashed into a basket of deserts, but before I could 

wonder about how it must look with my naked tits covered in smashed up pastries, creams, and 

fillings, my son pushed my skirt up out of his way and began tapping against my pussy with his 

cock, looking for the entrance. 

I wanted to reach a hand back to help guide him in, but I didn’t even have time for that. He found 

my entrance and began pushing into me almost immediately. I was soaking wet, but I was also 

even tighter than normal because he’d made me cum before even pushing inside of me. It was 

an effort, but a fucking amazing one, as he pushed in, stopped, and then again. Over and over, 

each time opening me up just a little bit more, each time working more of his dick inside of me. 

When he finally opened up the last of me and slammed into me all the way for the first time, I 

screamed out a high pitched, “Fuck!” in a moment of purest pleasure! My Son was balls deep 

inside of my pussy! The mere realization made me feel like I was going to cum again, and when 

he slid almost all the way out of me, only to slam his big dick back in again, I was immediately 

pushed over the edge. This was the ultimate taboo, and my single greatest fantasy, and it was 

happening!

I was cumming, and gripping the table, and screaming and moaning as he fucked me long and 

hard. Silverware fell onto the floor, glasses got knocked over, and just when I was coming down 

off of one orgasm, I would hear him behind me say something like, “Fuck Mom! You’re so tight!”, 

and I would start cumming all over again. 

When, after several minutes of receiving the most savage fucking I’ve ever fucking taken, I heard 

my Son cry out, “Fuck Mom, I’m going to cum soon!”. So in between moans, and cries of 

pleasure, I called back to him, “Do it baby! Cum in Mommy! I want to feel your hot Cum inside of 

me!” 

He came with a scream so loud it would be better described as a roar, and I was cumming so 

hard I had literal tears streaming down my face. 

When it was all done, my Son pulled out with a lamenting groan. When he did, I was still panting. 

I’d been rendered exhausted in a matter of minutes. I must have been quite the sight too. My legs 

were spread like a cheap whore, and cum was running out of my pussy and down my leg as I lay 

bent over the table, breathless and dazed. My face and tits were now covered in a dozen 

smashed up deserts; despite the fact that more than half the contents of the table had been 

violently knocked to the floor. 

Honestly, I have no idea how long I laid there. At first, I was just too stunned to move. Then, as I 

came too, I was too euphoric. I laid there, bent over and smiling as my pussy throbbed and 

clenched, and my smile refused to lessen. It was the best, goddamn fucking of my entire life, 

and for me, that was saying something. 

After what felt like forever, I finally managed to stand up, turn around, and get my bearings. The 

client, it turned out, had cum twice for what he described as, the first time in at least 10 years. 

He promised to be back, but I wasn’t sure how when he paid the bill by opening his wallet and 

just handing me every last bit of cash inside. It was legitimately several thousand dollars, and 

before I could protest, he launched into a series of thank-you’s, and assured me that he had not 

miscounted, and was in fact, underpaying for what he felt he got. 

The next day, I didn’t see my Son until we all sat down for dinner at home. It was a normal meal, 

as if nothing at all was different. Which was great, it was how it was supposed to be; but I was a 

little worried. Had I damaged our relationship at all? 

My fears were made to go away though at around bedtime. My husband was the first to cash in 

for the night, and my Son was already in his room. I thought I’d peak in to say goodnight to him, 

when he called me over and asked me to close the door behind me. 

At first, I was nervous about what he might say. But then he laid it on me, and… it was naughty. 

He told me, in a nervous, blurted out, word salad, that he knew that work was work and home 

was home, but that he’d been dreaming of my tits since he was 13 years old, and he felt so bad 

about rushing at the cafe’ and now he desperately wanted more, and…

I stopped him there. I pushed a finger to his lips and shushed him gently. Then, when he was 

calm, and listening again, I asked him if his phone had power. He looked confused, but he 

checked for me, and told me that it was fully charged. To which I replied, “Good.” Then I got up, 

left the room, and came back with a bottle of baby oil. 

Then I closed the door behind me, I and began to oil up my breasts while they were still in my 

robe. “Now, take your phone out, and get ready to take a video of your first time getting a titty fuck 

from your Mom. That will be for you. But when we are done, I want you to cum on my face; and 

when you do, I need you to take a picture. That, will be for me.”

My Son’s face was a balance between shocked and amazed. But it melted away into pure, body 

trembling pleasure a few moments later when he felt his cock sliding up in between his Mother’s 

big tits for the first time. 

That night was not the first time that he saw his sweet Mommy’s face covered with hot cum. But 

it was the first time that the cum was his. And me? I’ve got the photo to prove it. 

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