The Bright Side of Eternal Damnation - Sex Stories

The Bright Side of Eternal Damnation

“Is this a joke?” I’m not usually cranky in the morning but after spending an entire night listening to my friend’s mom bleating at the top of her lungs from dusk till dawn, I was a bit annoyed at being asked if I slept well. “It sounded like a woman was being murdered while giving birth during an earthquake up there. How could this go on for eight hours?”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t warn you. My parents are weird; every night is like this. I got used to it over the years. It happens all weekends, too, so if it bothers you, we can maybe hang out at Adam’s place.”

I was trying to think of an excuse to stay. Sleep deprivation aside, it actually was insanely hot to listen to his mom's demented moaning all night and, now that the house was quiet again, I kind of missed it. All thinking aborted when a buxom woman with wet blonde hair sauntered into the kitchen. She must have barely taken the time to dry herself after a shower since the bridal nightgown she wore was like a thin layer of white paint on her skin. With stretching arms raised high, the hem of the skirt rose above her hairless pussy.

“Hiii, you must be Devon. I’m Tess. Sorry I missed you yesterday. Did you sleep well?” She stretched again to reach a glass on a tall cupboard, this time showing off half of her squishy-looking peach of a butt. I had only seen her from afar on the soccer field sideline but even her vague, blurry shape had screamed MILF. None of my fantasies held up to the real hot mom in the ...

... flesh.

“Yes, Ma’am... I mean... um... Tess,” I managed to reply, avoiding my friend’s accusatory glare at the wildly different answer to the same question asked by someone with large breasts.

When she turned around, having filled her glass with water in the sink, one of her shoulder straps tumbled down her arm, peeling the thin layer of fabric over one of her perfect breasts.

“Mom, your boob’s out,” my friend said with the exasperation of a frequent occurrence. I wanted to kick him under the table for narking on the escaped prisoner, but, after his mom fixed her wardrobe malfunction, the other breast slipped out in the same manner as she sat down.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, leaning against the table, squishing her loose breast against her arm in the process. What I thought was a crucifix around her neck turned out to be a key and it nestled between her squished boobs. “I had a really intense night. I’ll get out of your way soon. Can you go get me two buckets of pig’s blood at the butcher?”

“Mom! I got you two buckets yesterday. I put them in the fridge.”

“I know, but I’m about to use those. Oh, and I’m going to need a big strong man to carry them upstairs for me. Do you mind helping me, Devon?” She had to fix her shoulder strap to get me out of my trance.

“N-no of course not.” When you made an effort to look away from her goddess-like body, her dark eyes were beautiful as well. “I won’t spill a drop...” It didn’t occur to me to ask what the blood was for as most of ...