Mom : She Let Me Do It - 1
Copyright© 2025 by Laxu
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - I lost everything in one month—my job, my girlfriend, my dog, even my house. With nowhere else to go, I called the one person I could always trust: my mom. She told me to come stay with her at her new condo on Padre Island. I thought she would be angry or give me a big lecture, but instead, she welcomed me with love, care, and a warm smile. Living with her again felt strange at first. We’ve always been close, more like friends than just mother and son.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Fiction Incest Mother Son Spanking Anal Sex Cream Pie Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Safe Sex Sex Toys Squirting Tit-Fucking Big Breasts
The last month of my life unraveled like a mournful country ballad—one of those slow, aching ones that linger long after the music stops. First, I lost my job. Then, my girlfriend walked out, leaving behind nothing but a note and a hollow silence. As if the universe hadn’t made its point clear, my dog—my loyal shadow through every high and low—passed away. And just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get worse, my old truck gave up on me in the middle of nowhere, stranded on a lonely stretch of highway outside San Antonio.
I figured I’d already hit rock bottom. But life, in its twisted humor, always seems to find a way to dig a little deeper. The bank hiked up my mortgage rates without warning—something my unemployed self couldn’t dream of managing—so I was forced to sell the house, the only real stability I had left, for a price that felt like a gut punch.
Now technically homeless, crashing on a buddy’s lumpy couch, with nothing more than a backpack and blurry hope, I did the only thing that made sense—I called my mom.
Mom had always been my anchor. As an only child, we shared a quiet closeness, forged during the long stretches when Dad’s work kept him away. She’s a sharp woman—wise in ways that books can’t teach. The kind of person who never panics, always has a plan, and knows when to listen without speaking. It’s no wonder she rose from a small-time mortgage broker to a respected real estate consultant in just a few years. Her advice had always been solid—reliable like the sunrise.
So yes, picking up the phone and calling her now ... it stung a little. It felt like swallowing my pride. She’d warned me, after all. She didn’t trust the company that hired me, said it smelled unstable, especially with the economy teetering like it was. She wasn’t wrong.
But truth be told, it wasn’t just about the job. After college, I wanted more than just a paycheck. I’d spent those years commuting from home, watching friends leave the nest while I stayed grounded in comfort and familiarity. Moving to San Antonio felt like my shot at independence, my chance to carve out a life that was mine alone. And for a while, it worked. For two whole years, I stood on my own feet.
Until it all came crashing down.
Still, there was something that gnawed away at my pride when I called mom to tell her about my predicament. I figured I’d get a Texas size helping of “I told you so” from her, so I took a shot of tequila before I dialed to loosen me up and lessen the anticipated pain.
“Howdy shug, how’re things? Haven’t talked to you in a while. How come you never call anymore?” Mom asked, sounding a bit peeved I hadn’t phoned recently. And, in case you’re wondering, she really does call me and nearly everyone “shug” and her voice really does sound like Nancy Gribble from the show “King of the Hill.” I think they must have based at least some of that character on my mom.
“Sorry, mom. Thing’s haven’t been too good.” I proceeded to tell her about the past month’s inglorious events and waited with baited breath for my scolding. Surprisingly, though, that’s not what I received.