From the middle of my adolescence I was quite the ladies’ man. I’ve had many different lovers despite my young age. I lost my virginity early, at about the age of fourteen. Despite my youth I was known for being an attentive and caring lover. This surprised many ladies because most men of my looks and type were often selfish in bed.
By the time of my eighteenth birthday I had probably bedded about fifty women. I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s the genuine truth. I’ve even had a few more mature lovers and hookups in my time. Most of the girls I had bedded were around my age, drawn to me by my reputation for satisfaction. My reputation did sometimes reach the ears of older ladies. I had a few hookups with older women. Some in their twenties or thirties. This included three of my teachers.
Part of why I was such a compassionate and caring lover was how I was raised. My dad gave me a lot of advice on how to treat women before he died. Dad, like me, was a strong, hunky guy. The kind of guy you’d expect would fuck a girl and leave them, not caring about their pleasure.
He was not that type of guy. Dad always told me being a good lover would get you laid more than looks. Girls could always find good looking guys, but few could find considerate lovers. I took that advice to heart, and it worked well for me. Not many studly guys like me were also good in bed and good to their women.
I was not shallow either. I took many different ladies to bed over the years. Not all the girls I took to bed were supermodel types. Hell, if I needed any proof that you should not be shallow about who you loved and bedded, I just needed to look at mom and dad.
While dad was the epitome of what all women supposedly wanted in men, mom was probably the kind of woman most guys ignored. Mom was a big woman, a BBW. Mom was already a big woman before dad died. She never really felt good about her big body until she met dad.
At first, she could not believe a stud like dad found her attractive. She rebuked him for a while. He eventually won her over by showing her his attraction to her was genuine. He made sure she knew he was not after her to put another notch in his bedpost.
Mom told me often she never understood how she landed a hunk like my dad. She took my dad’s death horribly. No man had loved her like that before and she doubted she’d ever find another who would. She put on a lot of weight after dad died. I don’t mean like twenty or thirty, I mean a lot. When dad died, she weighed around 250 pounds. Three years after dad’s death she was closer to 350.
Despite the many different types of women I had taken to bed, I had never had sex with a woman like my mom. Many would never believe that a woman with a body like my mother was my ideal. I had always wanted to make love to a Big Beautiful Woman. Most BBWs would never give me the time of day. They never believed a guy like me was genuinely attracted to them. (I blame the asshole guys who are built like me who treat them like shit as to why they mistrusted me.)
I can admit that my attraction to BBWs even included my mom. Even though she was my mom she was exactly the kind of BBW I wanted to bed. While she was overweight, her excess weight was distributed very nicely. Even at her weight she had a lovely hourglass figure. She never felt like she did, but I can say for sure she carried her extra weight wonderfully.
I felt confident that even though she was my mom I could take her to bed as well. I know some would see this as wrong, as she was my mom, but I did not care. The fact that she was my mom made it even hotter for me.
Thanks to the number of women I had taken to bed despite my young age, I was always confident in my ability to seduce the women I wanted. It wasn’t that I felt I was entitled to them that made me so confident, but the reputation I had for being such a good lover. Many girls knew what I was capable of in bed, and often that was all I needed to succeed with the ladies I desired. This didn’t always work. With some girls my reputation as a lover was not enough.
Nearing eighteen I made the decision that I would seduce my mother. I didn’t care about how forbidden such a coupling was, or what other’s would think. I wanted to make love to my mother. I knew she’d be reluctant, but I had faith in my abilities. I wanted to show her the love I’d show so many other women and the love she’d been deprived of for the last three years.
I wanted the day I bedded her to be special. I decided on my eighteenth birthday I would ask her to fulfill my wishes. She had asked me each day for at least two months what I wanted for my birthday. I kept telling her I had not decided yet.
When she asked me once more what I wanted on the day before my birthday I told her I would tell her tomorrow. It would be something she could get same day and something she could afford. She looked worried when I said this, like she was unsure she could get me what I wanted. I assured her she could very easily get it for me.
She was not up yet when I got up for breakfast the next day. I waited until she got up for lunch to tell her what I wanted for my birthday. She was up an hour before I took lunch. She hugged me as soon as she woke up, telling me happy birthday of course. She was still curious what I wanted. I told her after lunch I’d let her know what I wanted her to give me.
As we finished our lunch she got up to put her dishes in the sink. I smiled as I watched her huge ass shake as she walked. As soon as her dishes were in the sink she turned to me and spoke. “Okay Max, I’ve been asking you for the last four months what you wanted for your birthday, and all you have said is that you would tell me soon. So, what does my little boy ... well, little man now, want for his birthday.”
She looked dead at me, seemingly anxious about what I could possibly want from her. I stood up, walked to her and hugged her tight to me. She shivered, she always loved when I would hold her like this. I had no nervousness, I was ready to say it. “I’ll be blunt mom. I want to make love to you. That’s what I want for my birthday.” Her jaw dropped in shock.
“Max, am I hearing you right? You want to fuck me, your mother?” she asked, completely bewildered. I nodded. “Yes mom, I want to make love to you. That’s what I want for my eighteenth birthday.” She shook her head, like she could not believe what I was saying.
“Max, why would you want to fuck me? Even if I was not your mother, why would you want some fat broad like me?” I laughed as she said this. “Mom, you probably said the same thing to dad. I’ve been with a lot of women, many different kinds, but I’ve never been with a woman like you. I’ve wanted to make love to a big woman like you for some time now, and who better than my mother?”
She was silent as I said this, hardly believing what I was saying I bet. She didn’t respond, she just pulled away and ran to her room. I was not fazed. I knew she was shocked, but my desire was not changing. She knew now what I wanted and I was not going to change my mind.
I left then to meet my buddies for the day. Mom did not call me the whole time I was out. I did not see her again until dinner, where she asked me once again what I wanted. I looked her dead in the eye and told her what I said earlier I had meant. I wanted her, plain and simple.
“You’re just like your father. Hunky, confident and when you want something, you won’t give up on it.” She said sweetly. I saw a tear of sadness drip down her face at this. I bet it hurt to see how much I was like my old man. I grabbed her and hugged her, kissed away her tear, then to show how sure I was, kissed her right on the lips. I know I felt her body tremble as I did this.
When I pulled off her lips, I did not let her go. She looked at me nervously. “Is that what you really want, Max? You want to fuck your fat mother?” I nodded. “I’ve had many different women mom, but never a woman like you. I want to see what it’s like, to make love to a woman with more. I can tell you’re unsatisfied mom, you’ve been lonely and depressed since dad died. Let me help you mom. This is good for both of us.”
She trembled as I said this. “Oh Max, this is so wrong. I’m your mother, I shouldn’t do this. Yet, I can’t help feeling I want this. It’s been so long since anyone took care of me, and where would I find a man who’d love me like your father did?”
I smiled and kissed her again. “You’ve got him right here mom, and he’s ready for you.” She trembled for a third time. “Oh, this is not right, but I can’t fight it.” She looked deep in my eyes. “I cannot believe I’m saying this, I really hope I’m not making a huge mistake. Do it, Max. Take me to bed. I don’t care if you’re my son. Make love to me. Make me feel loved again.”
I felt a satisfied smile creep over my face as she said this. I took her hand and led her straight to her room. I had to coax her a bit, as she still resisted, until we were in her room. I kissed her again, then set to removing her clothes. So stunned by my boldness she did not even put up any resistance as I pulled her shirt off, unbuttoned her pants and then kissed over her big body as I unsnapped her bra and shucked off her big panties.
For a woman of her size, she was quite a looker. Despite how big she was, she had no stretchmarks. Her fat was very evenly distributed, though a little heavier in her tummy. Her breasts were so lovely and round. She was exactly what I wanted. She was big, and she was beautiful.
.... There is more of this story ...