Sharing Mommy
Copyright© 2026 by INtrinSicliValud
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Church-going, married to a distracted husband, and beautiful, Leah Poole makes several mistakes. First, watching her way-too-smart son Barry’s lean physique in the shower. Second, the torrid incestuous romp that’s followed. But now the whole school knows, her son is changing, and he’s tapped her to chaperone a class trip. Based on lalrinkima619’s concept.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Fa/ft Consensual Fiction Incest Mother Son Oral Sex
With my husband Adam unpacking, the rest of Friday night was a blur. Get him and our sullen son fed, then clean the dishes as they nerded-out over something in the home office. Their laughter did worm its way into my heart, and a happy woman placed the last plate in the dish rack while wearing the happy grin of a happy homemaker.
Later, I sat in a chair by the pool. A large glass of delightful rosé made me even happier and had me tingling. The evening air carried a lingering winter chill, but also brought the scent of flowers from the earliest blooms.
The quiet squeak of one of the sliders opening caused my muscles to tense, but slow, shuffling footfalls made me smile. When Adam came into view, he sent me a matching grin.
“Hey there.” He bent to give me a swift kiss. “Found you, beautiful.”
“You boys seemed busy.”
With a lengthy sigh, he settled into the neighboring chair. In one hand, a beer bottle glittered, while fingers of the other raked through black hair, growing wispier by the day. He gave the backyard a quick scan before facing me.
“Just work stuff. Barry’s really catching on,” he said. “Smart kid you made.”
“Uh, you were there as well.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“How was the—”
His gaze drifted to the distant trees. “Doubt I’ll get the funding. Bunch of ... Nah, simply didn’t ‘wow’ ‘em, I guess.”
The digits in his hair slowed as he took a sip. A long sigh left him, and he turned to me once more. “God—”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Adam.”
“Sorry. You’re right. How did you ever end up with me?”
“Tricked.”
He laughed. “How so?”
Rather than reply, I reached over to caress his arm. His smile widened, and hazel eyes twinkled as the beer rose to his lips.
“There’ll be other chances, dear,” I whispered.
“Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “Thanks for dinner. You didn’t eat much.”
“Had a snack earlier.” Warmth climbed my cheeks. “Think I could be a supermodel?”
“Er, what?”
“Too old, huh?” I snorted.
“Uh, no. You’ve still got the looks—”
“My eyes?”
“Mm-hmm, they’re pretty.”
“Hair?”
“Um, that’s nice, too.”
He scanned lower, lingering on the thin fuchsia tank above a short skirt of black pleats. That chilliness plus a lack of torturous straps on my torso ensured two stiff spikes held his attention. When those shiny eyes found my face once more, his cheeks had gained a glow. My hand rose to trace his lips with a fingernail. He trembled. At a sudden throb, my focus dropped to his slacks.
“Missed me, huh?” I murmured.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Beautiful?”
“Yes,” he replied in a tiny voice.
“Supermodel?”
“Oh, yeah. All the guys are jealous.”
“They are? Hold on a minute. Who?”
“Why did you marry me?” he asked.
With a chuckle and heat surging deep, I tapped the side of his head. He pressed into my fingertip. That throbbing in his crotch intensified.
“Pool or bed, lover boy?” I whispered.
“Ah, wow. Um, Barry’s still awake.”
“Hmm, can you wait?”
Before he mustered a response, my hand dropped to caress the straining linen. The bottle shook in his fist. Although his eyes and the steady pulse under my digits disagreed, he gave me a slow nod. After a quick swig, finishing his beer, he rose from the chair and added a languid scan of my reclining form.
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah, you could be a supermodel.”
“Oh, you.” I giggled as heat flushed my cheeks. “Keep fibbing like that and—”
“Not lying, Leah.”
As he turned toward the house, his hand brushed my hair. Such tenderness in that slow drag set my teeth on edge. Part of me wanted to leap from the chair, grab his wrist and toss him into the pool. Something rough and rowdy and wonderful would rattle his world ... and mine. Then again, did my world need more rattling?
The squeak of the back door sent that train of thought sliding off the rails. Soon enough, the wineglass was empty. With the breeze picking up, goosebumps raced, and while hugging myself, I headed inside.
Upstairs, a steamy shower left me smiling at the mirror while brushing my hair. No, never a supermodel, but endless hours in the basement gym kept 37-year-old curves in most of the right places. Boobs still sat high, a slim waist, and toned legs with just the right hint of softness. The grin stayed on a face hosting only the tiniest wrinkles as the dryer sent long blond curls swirling around the eyes both males in my life seemed to treasure.
A quiet cough made me jump. My gaze whipped to the bathroom door. It had been eased open and stood ajar, framing a shadowed figure. My horny Adam again admiring the view? The grin began to widen but froze once the silhouette resolved.
“Sweetie, you shouldn’t be here,” I whispered as Barry stepped into the light.
“Dad got a call. Business. Detroit, I think,” he said while leaning against the doorframe.
“Still.” My glance shot past him at the darkened bedroom and the distant closed door. “What if he—”
“I wanted to apologize again, Mom. That’s all.”
“Couldn’t it wait?”
“Gonna kiss me goodnight later?”
His gaze scanned my naked curves. So much heat rushed through me that the room wobbled. My hand slapped onto the countertop, making him flinch.
“Yes, darling. I’ll, um, kiss—”
“Okay.”
Boom, just like that, he spun and was gone, leaving me shaking with a pulse refusing to slow. Somehow, I got into panties and a cute pink cami. Right as my hands reached for the matching tap shorts, the door opened. Adam flashed me the brightest smile, then glanced at the shorts. They dropped from my fingers when he looked at the bed.
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