I Accidentally Saw My Son Naked

My name is Victoria, and I'm a forty-two-year-old divorced mother living in suburban Arizona with my nineteen-year-old son, Ethan. My husband left us three years ago for a younger woman—his twenty-six-year-old secretary, if you can believe such a cliché—and since then, it's been just Ethan and me in this big four-bedroom house.

I've always considered myself an attractive woman. I work hard to maintain my figure—yoga three times a week, Pilates on weekends, and I watch what I eat. At five-foot-eight with natural 36DD breasts that still sit high and proud, a narrow waist, and hips that flare into a perfectly rounded ass, I've never had trouble turning heads. My long auburn hair cascades down my back in waves, and my green eyes still sparkle with the vitality of a woman half my age.

But here's my secret shame: I've always been a size queen. Even when I was married, I found myself constantly fantasizing about men with massive cocks—thick, heavy, vein-bulging monsters that could stretch a woman wide and hit places deep inside that normal men simply couldn't reach. My ex-husband was average at best—maybe six inches on a good day—and while he was a decent lover, he never satisfied that deep, primal craving I had for being truly filled, truly stretched, truly owned by a massive piece of meat.

For years, I satisfied myself with an increasingly large collection of dildos and vibrators. The "Big John"—a ten-inch black rubber cock—became my best friend after the divorce. I'd lie in bed at night, my pussy dripping wet, imagining some hung stud pounding me senseless while I rammed that thick toy deep inside my hungry cunt. But toys could only do so much. I needed the real thing. I needed a man with a cock so big it would make my eyes water just looking at it.

I never imagined that man would turn out to be my own son.

It started on a Tuesday morning in late July. The Arizona heat was already scorching by 9 AM, and I was making my way upstairs to wake Ethan. He'd been sleeping in later and later since graduating high school, and I needed him up to help me move some furniture in the garage before the afternoon heat made it unbearable.

I knocked on his door. "Ethan? Baby, time to get up."

No response.

I knocked again, louder this time. "Ethan, come on. I need your help with something."

Still nothing.

Sighing, I turned the handle and pushed the door open. "Ethan, I'm coming in. You can't sleep all day, honey."

The blinds were drawn, casting the room in shadow, but the morning light filtering through the slats created stripes of illumination across the bed. And there, sprawled on his back, completely naked with the sheet kicked off in the heat, was my son.

My eyes traveled down his body automatically—past his broad shoulders and muscular chest, past the six-pack abs he'd developed from years of high school sports and weightlifting, down to his groin—and then my breath caught in my throat.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Between my son's legs lay the biggest, thickest, most magnificent cock I had ever seen in my entire life. It was fully erect, standing straight up like a monument to masculinity, pulsing slightly with his heartbeat. The shaft was easily as thick as my wrist, veiny and hard, with a bulbous purple head that glistened with a bead of pre-cum. It had to be at least twelve inches long—maybe more—and so thick around that I doubted I could wrap my fingers fully around it.

My pussy instantly flooded with heat. I felt a gush of wetness soak my panties as I stood there, frozen, staring at my son's massive morning wood. My heart hammered against my ribs, and my mouth went dry. Every instinct screamed at me to look away, to back out of the room, to pretend I'd never seen this. But I couldn't move. I couldn't tear my eyes away from that magnificent slab of teenage meat.

I found myself wondering what it would feel like in my hands. In my mouth. Inside my pussy. The thought made my knees weak. I imagined spreading my legs for my own son, letting him mount me, feeling that massive cockhead pressing against my entrance, stretching me open, sliding deep inside my wet cunt until he bottomed out in places no man had ever touched.

"Mom?"

The voice snapped me out of my trance. Ethan's eyes were open now, blinking sleepily as he looked at me standing in his doorway. I realized with horror that I'd been standing there for at least a minute, just staring at his cock.

"Oh! Oh god, I'm sorry, baby!" I stammered, my face burning red. "I—I didn't know you were... I mean, you didn't answer, so I..."

Ethan didn't seem embarrassed. If anything, he looked amused. He didn't try to cover himself. Instead, he stretched lazily, his muscles rippling, and that massive cock twitched in the air between us.

"No worries, Mom," he said casually, his voice deep and sleepy. "Did you need something?"

"I—I was just going to ask you to help me move some furniture," I managed to say, though my eyes kept drifting back to his crotch. I couldn't help it. It was like a magnet for my gaze. "But—but you should probably... cover up..."

Ethan chuckled, a low, masculine sound that sent shivers down my spine. "It's just us here, Mom. You've seen me naked before."

"Not like this," I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Not like what?"

I realized what I'd said and felt my face flush even hotter. "I—I mean, you're grown now. It's different. You should... you should put some clothes on."

"Sure thing, Mom," he said, but he made no move to cover himself. Instead, he reached down and casually scratched his balls, lifting them slightly and letting them drop back down—heavy, full, and obviously loaded with cum.

I nearly moaned out loud. My pussy was throbbing now, my clit pulsing with need. I needed to get out of this room before I did something I'd regret. Before I crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.

"Breakfast in thirty minutes," I said quickly, turning and practically fleeing from the room. I pulled the door shut behind me and leaned against the wall in the hallway, my chest heaving, my panties absolutely soaked through.

I rushed to my bedroom and locked the door behind me. My hands were shaking as I stripped off my clothes—my thin tank top and yoga pants—and stood naked in front of the full-length mirror. My nipples were hard as diamonds, and when I touched my pussy, my fingers came away dripping with thick, clear arousal.

"Oh god," I whispered to myself. "What's wrong with me? That's my son. My baby boy. I can't be thinking about him like this."

But even as I said it, I was climbing onto my bed, spreading my legs wide, and plunging three fingers deep inside my dripping cunt. I closed my eyes and saw it again—that massive, vein-bulging cock standing proud and hard between my son's muscular thighs. I imagined how it would taste, how it would feel stretching my lips wide as I tried to suck it. I imagined Ethan on top of me, that monster cock spearing into my wet pussy, splitting me open, making me scream.

"Oh fuck," I moaned, fucking myself harder with my fingers. "Oh god, that cock... that huge fucking cock..."

I came harder than I had in years, my pussy clamping down on my fingers, my back arching off the bed, my free hand mauling my tits and pinching my nipples roughly. The orgasm seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me as I pictured my son's massive dick destroying my married pussy.

When I finally came down, I lay there panting, covered in sweat and my own juices, feeling both satisfied and deeply ashamed. I knew I needed to put this out of my mind. It was just a moment of weakness. A biological response to seeing an impressive penis. It didn't mean anything.

But deep down, I knew I was lying to myself. Because as I showered and dressed and went about my day, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time I looked at Ethan across the breakfast table, I saw him naked in my mind's eye, that monster cock swaying between his legs. Every time he reached for something and his shirt rode up, showing a strip of his hard stomach, I imagined how that stomach would feel pressed against mine as he fucked me senseless.

That night, after Ethan had gone out with friends, I found myself in my bedroom with my laptop open. I told myself I was just going to read some erotica—normal erotica, not the taboo stuff. But my fingers had a mind of their own. Before I knew it, I was typing "mother son big cock stories" into the search bar.

The results that came up made my pussy clench. Story after story of mothers discovering their sons were hung like horses and giving in to their taboo desires. I read them voraciously, my hand between my legs, rubbing my clit through my panties. By the time I finished the fifth story, I was so wet I'd soaked through my panties and left a wet spot on my yoga pants.

I needed more than just reading. I needed to feel something that big inside me. I needed to know what it would be like to take a cock like Ethan's.

That's when I remembered the adult toy store on the outskirts of town. I'd driven past it a hundred times but never had the courage to go in. Tonight, I found myself putting on a sundress and driving there, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and shame.

The store was empty except for a bored-looking clerk behind the counter. I made a beeline for the dildo section, my eyes scanning the shelves for something—anything—that might approximate what I'd seen that morning.

And then I saw it. "The Destroyer." Twelve inches of thick, realistic black rubber cock, with heavy balls and a suction cup base. It was the biggest toy in the store, and looking at it, I realized it was probably still smaller than Ethan's actual cock. But it would have to do.

I bought it without making eye contact with the clerk, shoving it into my purse and rushing home like a criminal.

Back in my bedroom, I ripped open the packaging and held the massive toy in my hands. It was heavy—substantial. The veins were raised and realistic, the head flared and wide. My pussy ached just looking at it.

I stripped naked and lay back on my bed, spreading my legs wide. I turned on my webcam—I don't know why, maybe some part of me wanted to record this moment, to see my own face as I fucked myself with this monster. I positioned the camera at the foot of the bed so it had a perfect view of my spread pussy and my face.

"Oh god," I whispered to the camera, to myself, to whoever might one day see this. "I'm so fucking horny. I need a big cock so bad."

I ran the massive head of the dildo up and down my slit, coating it in my juices. It felt huge against my entrance—bigger than anything I'd ever taken before. But I was determined. I needed to feel stretched, filled, owned.

"Fuck me," I whispered. "Fuck me with that big cock, baby. Fuck your dirty mommy."

I didn't let myself think about the words I was saying. I just pressed the massive head against my entrance and pushed.

"Ohhhhhh fuuuuuck!" I screamed as my pussy lips stretched wide around the thick intrusion. It burned, it stretched, it felt like I was being split in two. But god, it felt good. I worked it deeper, inch by inch, my eyes rolling back in my head, my tits heaving as I panted and moaned.

"So fucking big," I gasped. "So fucking huge... just like Ethan's... just like my son's massive cock..."

I couldn't stop myself. The fantasy had taken over completely. I was no longer fucking myself with a dildo—I was being fucked by Ethan, my own son, his twelve-inch monster splitting my married pussy wide open, making me his slut, his whore, his personal fucktoy.

"Yes, Ethan!" I screamed, pounding the dildo deeper. "Fuck mommy! Fuck me with that huge cock! Rip me apart, baby! Make me your dirty little slut!"

I fucked myself relentlessly, the massive rubber cock slamming in and out of my stretched cunt, making wet, obscene sounds that filled the room. I came three times in rapid succession, each orgasm more intense than the last, until I was a sweating, shaking mess, the dildo still buried deep inside me.

As I lay there recovering, my eyes fell on the webcam. The red light was still on. It had recorded everything—my face, my spread pussy taking that massive toy, my screams of "Ethan" as I came.

Panic flooded through me. I reached for the camera, but before I could turn it off, I heard a sound that made my blood run cold.

A creak in the hallway.

"Mom?" Ethan's voice called out. "You home? I forgot my keys and had to come back..."

I froze, terrified. Had he heard me? Oh god, had he heard me screaming his name while I fucked myself?

I yanked the dildo out of my pussy with a wet pop and scrambled for my robe, but I wasn't fast enough. My bedroom door, which I'd forgotten to lock in my haste, swung open.

Ethan stood there, his eyes going wide as he took in the scene—his mother, naked and flushed, a massive black dildo on the bed beside her, the webcam still recording, and the unmistakable smell of sex heavy in the air.

For a moment, neither of us moved. We just stared at each other. Then Ethan's eyes traveled down my body—past my heaving tits with their hard nipples, down to my spread legs where my pussy was still visibly gaping and dripping with arousal.

"Mom..." he said slowly, his voice dropping an octave. "What are you doing?"

I should have covered myself. I should have screamed at him to get out. I should have done anything except what I did next.

But my pussy was still throbbing, still empty, still craving the real thing. And Ethan was standing there in basketball shorts and a tight t-shirt, and I could already see the outline of his massive cock growing hard against his thigh.

"I was thinking about you," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "About your... your big cock, baby. Mommy can't stop thinking about it."

Ethan's eyes darkened. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, locking it with a decisive click.

"Is that right?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You were thinking about my cock, Mom?"

I nodded, unable to speak, my eyes fixed on the growing bulge in his shorts.

"Show me," he commanded. "Show me what you were doing."

Trembling, my heart hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears, I reached for the dildo. I brought it to my lips and slowly, never breaking eye contact with my son, I began to suck it. I took it deep, gagging myself on the massive rubber cock, showing him what I could do, what I wanted to do to him.

"Fuck," Ethan groaned, his hand going to his crotch. "You're such a dirty slut, Mom. You want this big cock? You want your son's dick?"

I pulled the dildo from my mouth, strings of saliva connecting my lips to the thick shaft. "Yes," I breathed. "God yes, Ethan. I need it. I need your huge cock inside me. Please, baby. Please fuck your mommy."

Ethan crossed the room in three strides. He grabbed the dildo from my hand and tossed it aside. Then he reached down and ripped his shorts off, and his cock sprang free—thick, heavy, and already fully hard, the massive shaft pulsing with his heartbeat, the head purple and leaking pre-cum.

It was even bigger up close. Bigger than the dildo. Bigger than anything I'd ever imagined.

"Oh my god," I whispered, reaching for it with both hands. I couldn't even wrap my fingers all the way around the shaft. It was hot, throbbing, alive in my hands. "It's so big, baby. So fucking huge."

"You want it?" Ethan growled, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling my head back. "You want this big cock in your slutty little pussy, Mom?"

"Yes," I moaned, my eyes rolling back. "Please. Please fuck me, Ethan. Make me yours. Destroy my pussy with that monster cock."

Ethan pushed me back onto the bed and climbed on top of me. He positioned himself between my legs, his massive cock resting against my stomach, reaching almost to my breasts. He grabbed my tits and squeezed them roughly, pinching my nipples until I cried out.

"You've been teasing me for years, Mom," he said, his voice husky. "Walking around in those tight little outfits, bending over in front of me, letting me see down your shirt. Did you think I didn't notice? Did you think I didn't want to bend you over and fuck you senseless?"

"I wanted you to," I admitted, spreading my legs wider for him. "I've wanted you for so long, baby. Ever since I saw how big you were. I need it. I need you to fill me up."

Ethan grabbed his massive cock and dragged the head down my body, leaving a trail of pre-cum from my breasts to my navel to my pussy. He positioned the huge head at my entrance, and I felt my pussy lips stretching just from the pressure of him being there.

"Last chance, Mom," he said, looking into my eyes. "Once I put this inside you, there's no going back. You're going to be my fucktoy. My personal cum dumpster. I'm going to use your holes whenever I want, however I want. Is that what you want?"

"Yes," I screamed, grabbing his ass and pulling him toward me. "Yes! Make me your whore, Ethan! Fuck your mommy! Ruin me with that huge cock!"

With one powerful thrust, Ethan buried his entire twelve inches inside me.

The scream that tore from my throat was primal, animalistic. I'd never felt so full, so stretched, so completely owned. His cock hit depths I'd never known existed, pressing against my cervix and then somehow pushing past it, into my womb. My pussy clamped down on him, my muscles spasming around the massive intrusion.

"Oh fuck!" Ethan groaned, his eyes rolling back. "You're so fucking tight, Mom. So fucking wet and hot around my cock."

"Don't stop," I begged, tears streaming down my face from the intensity of it. "Please don't stop. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard."

Ethan didn't need any more encouragement. He pulled back until just the head was inside me, then slammed forward again, bottoming out in one thrust. Then he began to fuck me in earnest—hard, deep, punishing strokes that made my tits bounce and my body slide up the bed.

"Take it, Mom," he grunted, pounding into me. "Take that big cock. You wanted it, now you're getting it. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

"Yes!" I screamed, my nails raking down his back. "Harder! Fuck me harder! Rip me apart, baby! Make me your slut!"

The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room—wet, obscene, filthy sounds that only spurred us on. Ethan grabbed my legs and threw them over his shoulders, changing the angle so he could go even deeper. I felt his massive balls slapping against my ass with every thrust, heavy and full of the cum I desperately wanted inside me.

"Your pussy is mine now, Mom," Ethan growled, his face contorted with pleasure. "This is my pussy. I'm going to fill it with my seed every fucking day. You're going to walk around with my cum dripping out of you, knowing your son owns this cunt."

"Yes!" I shrieked, another orgasm building rapidly. "I belong to you! I'm your fucktoy! Use me however you want! Oh god, I'm cumming! I'm cumming on your huge cock!"

My orgasm hit like a tsunami, my entire body convulsing, my pussy clamping down on Ethan's thrusting cock so hard I thought I might push him out. But he kept fucking me through it, relentless, his stamina inhuman as he pounded my spasming cunt.

"That's it, Mom," he grunted. "Cum on my dick. Milk my cock with that tight pussy. I'm going to fill you up. I'm going to breed you like the slut you are."

"Do it!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. "Cum inside me, Ethan! Fill mommy's pussy with your hot cum! I want to feel you shooting inside me!"

With a roar that sounded more animal than human, Ethan slammed deep one final time and held there, his massive cock pulsing as he unleashed a torrent of cum deep inside my womb. I could feel it—hot, thick, endless spurts of teenage seed flooding my unprotected pussy, filling me up, claiming me completely.

"Oh fuck yes," I moaned, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him deeper. "Give it all to me, baby. Every drop. Breed your mommy. Make me your cum dumpster."

Ethan collapsed on top of me, his chest heaving, his cock still buried deep and twitching as he emptied his balls into me. I held him tight, my hands stroking his back, my pussy milking every last drop of cum from his massive shaft.

When he finally pulled out, I felt a gush of our combined fluids pour out of me, soaking the bed beneath us. Ethan lay beside me, his cock still half-hard and glistening with our juices.

"That was..." I started, unable to find the words.

"Just the beginning," Ethan finished, turning to look at me with a wicked smile. "We're just getting started, Mom. I've got years of fantasies to fulfill, and you're going to help me with every single one of them."

I shivered with anticipation, already feeling my sore, cum-filled pussy clenching with need for more.

The next morning, I woke up to the feeling of Ethan's massive cock sliding into me from behind. He'd spooned up against me in the night, and now, in the early morning light, he was slowly, deeply fucking me, his hand cupping my breast and his mouth at my ear.

"Morning, Mom," he whispered, his breath hot against my neck. "I've been hard for an hour waiting for you to wake up. Your pussy feels even tighter in the morning."

"Oh god," I moaned, pushing my ass back against him. "Fuck me, baby. Don't stop."

He didn't. Ethan fucked me slowly and deeply, his massive cock hitting all the right spots, making me cum twice before he finally filled me with another hot load of morning cum. When he pulled out, I could feel it dripping down my thighs as I walked to the shower.

That became our new routine. Ethan moved into my bedroom—officially, this time—and we slept together every night. He'd fuck me before bed, sometimes twice, and then again in the morning. Often, he'd come home from the gym in the afternoon, sweaty and pumped, and bend me over the kitchen counter or the living room sofa for a quick, hard fuck.

My pussy was constantly sore, constantly stretched, constantly filled with his cum. I stopped wearing underwear altogether—what was the point? Ethan wanted access to my holes at all times, and I was more than happy to provide it.

We fell into a pattern of filthy, depraved sex that would have shocked anyone who knew us. Ethan loved to degrade me, to call me names while he fucked me—slut, whore, cum dumpster, fucktoy. And I loved it. I loved being his personal slut, his mother-turned-sex-slave.

"Who owns this pussy?" he'd ask, pounding into me from behind, his hand wrapped in my hair pulling my head back.

"You do!" I'd scream back. "You own it! My son owns my pussy!"

"That's right," he'd growl. "And who owns this ass?"

"You do! You own all my holes!"

He'd prove it, too—pulling out of my pussy and pressing that massive, slick cockhead against my tight asshole. I'd relax for him, pushing back, and he'd slide into my ass, inch by inch, until he was balls deep in my butt, fucking me with long, deep strokes that made me see stars.

"Your ass is so fucking tight, Mom," he'd grunt, spanking me hard. "I'm going to train this hole to take my cock whenever I want. You're going to be my perfect three-hole slut."

And he did train me. Within two weeks, I could take his massive cock in my ass almost as easily as my pussy. He'd fuck my ass while I played with my clit, making me cum over and over while he used my backdoor, until finally he'd pull out and shoot his load all over my face and tits, covering me in his hot, thick seed.

I became addicted to his cum. I craved it—the taste, the feel, the knowledge that my son had marked me as his territory. I'd swallow every drop he gave me, or wear it on my skin, letting it dry while I went about my day, the smell of his sex constantly surrounding me.

One afternoon, about three weeks into our new arrangement, I was bent over the washing machine, taking Ethan's cock deep in my pussy while he pulled my hair and called me a dirty laundry slut, when we heard a car pull into the driveway.

"Shit!" I gasped. "That's your Aunt Sarah! She's early!"

Ethan didn't stop fucking me. If anything, he started pounding harder. "Let her hear," he grunted. "Let her hear what a slut her sister is for her nephew's big cock."

"Ethan, no!" I protested, but even as I said it, I was pushing back against him, my pussy clamping down on his thrusting shaft.

The doorbell rang. Then knocking. "Victoria? You home? Your car's here," Sarah called out.

"Just a minute!" I managed to yell, my voice breaking as Ethan hit a particularly deep spot.

"Are you okay?" Sarah called, concern in her voice. "You sound—"

The back door opened. Sarah had a key—she was my sister, after all, and we'd always had open access to each other's homes. She walked into the laundry room just as Ethan was pulling out of my pussy, his massive cock glistening with my juices, and turned me around to shoot his load all over my face.

"Oh my god," Sarah gasped, freezing in the doorway.

Ethan didn't even flinch. He stroked his cock twice and unleashed a massive rope of cum across my face, then another across my tits, then another, until I was covered in his seed, my mouth open and catching what I could, my eyes closed in ecstasy.

When he finally finished, he turned to look at his aunt, his cock still hard and swaying heavily between his legs.

"Hey, Aunt Sarah," he said casually. "Mom was just helping me with a little problem. You know how it is."

Sarah stood there, her mouth open, her eyes wide. She was forty, a year younger than me, with blonde hair and a body that had stayed fit from years of tennis and yoga. She'd been divorced for five years, same as me, and I'd always suspected she had a high sex drive, though we'd never discussed it in detail.

"Victoria?" she said slowly, looking at me as I stood there, naked and covered in my son's cum. "What... what is going on?"

I should have been mortified. I should have tried to explain, to make excuses. But instead, I felt a rush of excitement. The idea of my sister knowing, of her seeing what a hung stud my son had become, of her seeing the massive cock that was now exclusively mine to enjoy—it made my pussy clench with need.

"Ethan has a really big cock, Sarah," I said, my voice husky. "The biggest I've ever seen. And I've been... enjoying it. A lot."

Sarah's eyes dropped to Ethan's cock, still hard and thick and dripping with cum and my juices. Her breath caught. "Holy shit," she whispered. "That's... that's enormous."

"Twelve inches," I said proudly, like I was showing off a new car. "And he knows how to use it. He's been fucking me senseless for weeks."

"Mom," Ethan said, a warning in his voice, but also amusement. "Don't share all my secrets."

Sarah took a step forward, her eyes locked on Ethan's massive shaft. "Can I..." she started, then stopped herself. "I mean, would you mind if I..."

"If you what, Aunt Sarah?" Ethan asked, his voice dropping to that dominant tone that made me weak in the knees. "If you touched it? If you sucked it? If you felt what your sister's been enjoying?"

Sarah looked at me, her eyes questioning. I should have said no. I should have protected what was mine. But the thought of sharing, of watching my sister experience what I was experiencing, of maybe even helping her take that massive cock—it was too exciting to resist.

"Only if I can watch," I said, my voice trembling. "And only if you promise to save your cum for me at the end."

Ethan grinned, that wicked, predatory smile. "I think I can manage that. Come here, Aunt Sarah. Let me show you why Mom can't walk straight anymore."

Sarah approached slowly, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. When she was close enough, Ethan reached out and took her hand, guiding it to his massive cock. Her fingers wrapped around the shaft, and she gasped at the thickness, the heat, the weight of it.

"It's so heavy," she whispered. "So thick. How do you even take it, Victoria?"

"With lots of practice," I said, stepping closer, my hand joining hers on Ethan's cock. "And lots of lube. And a willingness to be completely ruined for any other man ever again."

Together, my sister and I stroked my son's massive cock, our hands sliding up and down the thick shaft, our eyes meeting over the purple, leaking head. Ethan groaned, his head falling back, his hips thrusting slightly into our combined grip.

"That's it," he grunted. "Both of you. Stroke that big cock. Show me how much you want it."

"I want it," Sarah breathed, her inhibitions clearly melting away. "I want to feel it inside me. I want to know what it feels like to be fucked by a cock that big."

"Then get on your knees," Ethan commanded. "Both of you. Show me how you worship this cock."

We obeyed, dropping to the floor of the laundry room, our faces level with Ethan's massive member. I took the lead, opening my mouth and taking the head inside, swirling my tongue around it, tasting the mix of my juices and his cum. Sarah watched for a moment, then leaned in, licking up the shaft from the base to where my lips were wrapped around the head.

"Good girls," Ethan groaned, his hands going to both of our heads. "That's it. Worship that big dick. Show me what good sluts you are."

We took turns sucking him, passing his cock back and forth between our mouths, both of us trying to take him deeper than the other. Sarah was enthusiastic but inexperienced with something so large—she gagged hard when she tried to take more than half of him, tears streaming down her face.

"Easy," I told her, pulling back and stroking the shaft. "You have to relax your throat. Let me show you."

I demonstrated, taking Ethan deep, relaxing my throat muscles, letting him slide past my gag reflex until my nose was pressed against his stomach and my chin was nestled against his heavy balls. I held him there for a moment, swallowing around his thickness, then pulled back with a gasp, saliva dripping from my chin.

"See?" I said, my voice hoarse. "You can take it all if you try."

Sarah tried again, and this time she managed to get most of him down her throat before she had to pull back, coughing and gasping. But she didn't stop—she kept trying, kept working, her enthusiasm making up for her lack of experience.