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“You know what would be funny?”
Keira was on her third martini dry, and I feared what she might say next.
“We prank our sons back!”
She threw her head back, laughing like a maniac. Keira was referring to how they pranked us a few weeks ago, dressing as Mormons, with such attention to detail that, even after one hour of conversation, we couldn’t tell who they were.
“I’ll toast to that!” I said, drinking my prosecco in one go. “They surely deserve it.”
It was only when they couldn’t contain their laughter we realized who they were. I wasn’t upset with the prank, but with the fact of being made fun to friends and family like a wildfire during summer in California. Even my boss asked me about that, over the millions of views on social media.
How dumb can you be to not recognize your son?
“What do you suggest?”
Keira had a plan – it didn’t look like she just came up with it, but instead, she took inspiration from something else. Her perfect red nails tapped away on the screen of her phone, and then she showed it to me. A dating app profile.
I poured another glass from that pink bottle, the bubbles sparkling away, and observed what she created. It didn’t look like her at all, and neither was her name Keira. “What’s this?” I asked, confused by the loud noise around us and the dim lights.
“We get them on a fake date and make fun of them.”
“Sounds lame,” I replied without thinking. “It says here you are single.”
She tapped her nails on the table, sticky with alcohol. “Should I say the truth? He will find out if I give him too many clues.”
I flicked through the profile and felt a tension building up in my body as if we were about to do something we shouldn’t. “They aren’t that smart, you know?” But those words melted in my mouth with a bitter finish, remembering how dumb we were to be fooled in the first place. I blamed that on the alcohol-inebriated afternoon, watching romantic comedies and all of a sudden two tall and handsome Mormons showed up at our doorstep.
My initial thought was to forget about the savior and bone me senseless.
“They’re nineteen, off course they aren’t smart! That’s why!”
“Where did you get these photos anyway?” I asked. She managed to hide her face in all of the pics, even the main one, a large hat casting a shadow over her face, a sort of different colored hair, and over exposition. I wouldn’t tell it was her too.
“A photoshoot a while ago.”
“And what’s the plan? A fake date? They will tell it’s us, and besides, don’t think my Ben uses whatever dating app young kids use these days.”
Keira condemned my sort of speech. “You sound like a forty-year-old man now. You know the saying, young, dumb, and full of cum – hey, it’s true, don’t make that face.” She drank the rest of the drink, waiving for another one, her hair flowing down her plastic breasts, mirroring mine, and I realized what this was all about in the first place – to feel young again. With a flick of her hair, she raised her glass, and we toasted. “They’ll have their ass handed over in a silver plate, just wait, and you’ll see.”
The next few days were spent creating an account for myself. I couldn’t look “me,” and we bought a wig – an expensive one, realistic, blonde, contrasting with my ginger tones. We went to the countryside and took a few photos with a friend of ours that was an amateur photographer.
An afternoon watered with prosecco while we set up an account, the kinks, the perks, the obvious lies.
“What do you like, Monica?” Keira asked, making a face.
My mind went straight to sex. Sex with her son, James, young and athletic, far from what my husband had become.
“I’m very vanilla, I think.”
“Vanilla? That sucks! Can I write you’re a full cow in bed?”
We laughed the afternoon away, and when our sons got home from school, we kissed them, and they went up to Ben’s bedroom to play video games. It helped that we live side by side.
I took the chance when my son was showering, with James and Keira gone already, to check if he had the dating app installed, and was surprised to see the icon on his phone. Curiosity took me by surprise, and I touched the symbol, loading up the app while my heart raced in my chest. He was still showering, the water was loudly running down his young body, and chiseled abs, I imagined, down to his long, hard –
“Control yourself,” I groaned under my teeth, and as I was going to forget about his phone, his profile showed. He had a nice picture, but he didn’t look like nineteen, but older. Was that on purpose? Quickly, I pressed the message part, and there was a pattern about the woman he was chatting with – they all were older, probably as old as me.
My husband’s voice called me from the lobby, and I quickly left my son’s bedroom and walked down the stairs. According to Keira, the attack would be in a couple days’ time.
The ultimate goal was to make them send us lewd pictures to give us some leverage and set up a otele gelen gaziantep escort fake date, where we presented ourselves in full glory, handing over the card “don’t mess with your mother,” and we’d got everything on camera plus millions of views. Maybe we were slightly drunk coming up with a plan.
We were playing COD when a notification came through. Then another. And another. I looked at J, and both laughed. Saturday night and milfs get thirsty, and we wouldn’t just stop the game for that.
It has been a few months since we realized how chances increased by adding a few years to our age. A bearded picture in a smart outfit, and changing the age range we were looking for.
We just had to figure out the next part of actually talking with a woman old enough to be our mother and take it through the next level, to have them open their legs for us.
J and I are like brothers: we end up reading each other’s minds and scratching our balls at the same time as soon as we turn on our phones.
Alright!” said J “bro, I got the jackpot,” he said, showing me an enigmatic profile. Damn, she was gorgeous, even though her face was difficult to see. A long thick blonde hair.
“Fine rack,” I added, brofisting J as he grabbed his nuts again. “And she’s forty-six, fuck that’s hot, bro.”
“Just like your mom,” he said immediately, without thinking.
“Or yours,” I smiled. “Fuck, anytime these milfs hit, I always think about your mom. One day, I’ll bang her. It’s a shame she ain’t ginger. “
J looked at me seriously for a few seconds, and then a smirk and a wink. “We are cursed with two hot moms and absent fathers. Honest to god, we’d be doing them a favor.”
Since I can remember, we talked about banging our moms. Fucking golddiggers, but we never cared. And then, I swiped right on a picture of a fantastic older woman, and seconds after, my phone buzzed with a match.
Inside my shorts, a swelling all over my cock, as I swiped over her pics. Fucking gorgeous, with thick blonde hair and nice big titties, and there was a picture of her in a skirt with black stockings that made me hard. Again, if she was a ginger, I would have cummed all over me.
“You have a boner,” J said, not in an accusatory tone.
“So do you.”
And I showed him my match, a 47-year-old beauty.
“It doesn’t show their distance, but I bet they’re together. I mean, how come this is a coincidence?”
J was right. I mean, milfs were thirsty, but this was slightly suspicious. We heard about those thirst traps, guys pretending to be girls just to get pics.
“What’s up?” was my first pickup line. From the corner of my eye, J was also starting a convo with his milf. For sure, if she replied to such a basic shit, I should tread carefully.
And she didn’t. Shit.
But J, on the other hand, seemed to have something going. He asked for a clear pic of her face but was told she couldn’t really reveal her identity. She was married.
Shit, I saw how his cock stirred with the information, and we were both hard and leaking, replying to that woman. She had such an enigmatic shadow over her and gorgeous freckles that weren’t totally covered by unnecessary makeup. And she was nice too.
The conversation flowed, and I told J never to disclose his true age – he could look twenty-three easily, and I had women cutting me off because I was nineteen.
“Bro, this is insane,” he tells me. “Shit, I want to bang her so much.”
“What’s her name?” I asked, and then looked at my phone. My milf had replied with a simple, “not much, u?” which made me think twice before replying.
My fingers were shaking, and I told Keira to reply to my son and stop being on top of me as I chatted away with hers. I didn’t want to give away any details that might get us caught, but I wanted to continue chatting with James, as it was getting me too horny.
She found it strange.
“I thought we were going to trap them into someplace we could shame them, no? Why are you engaging so much?”
I drank my prosecco and looked at her. Could she tell I was enjoying this, maybe a little too much? “Keira, they have to believe us first. I don’t expect my son to walk into a trap just like that. Give him something.”
“I’ll throw him a bone.”
My heart jumped in my chest. I looked over her shoulder as she typed, “not much, u?” to my precious son. That pic wasn’t twenty-three as he claimed, not even with that beard, but I flicked through his other pics and was surprised to see his gym gains.
“They are both quite hot, aren’t they?” I said in a question, to which Keira agreed.
“Bet plenty of bitches fall for their sweet angel eyes.”
“I don’t think my Ben is active, do you? They are so young for that.”
“Monica, and here we are, enticing them with sex.”
She had a point. This made no sense, but then, Ben replied to her.
Not gaziantep otele gelen escort much to work with. He was definitively a virgin.
But then, on my phone, a new ping came through: Ben was texting my profile.
“Oh my god, Keira, shit, fucking shit, he’s texting me!”
And I was like eighteen again, panicking, pouring the wine down my glass, and trying to keep my calm.
“What did he say?”
I dropped my phone, ignoring everything and opening up a window. “Fuck, I’m not good at these things.”
“Shut up, you are where you are because you’re good. Don’t worry, one way or another, what matters is to convince them.”
I lit up a cigarette and breathed deeply. “No, this is a terrible idea, Keira. I just can’t do this.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not the end of the world. I’ll reply for you.”
“I know I’ll sound cheesy, but you look super sexy. And maybe I don’t stand a chance with a woman like you, but you made my heart skip a beat.”
He texted me all of that. My son.
I didn’t reply. How could I? He didn’t sound confident at all but vulnerable. The convo with his friend was now cooling down.
“Do you have pics?” James asked, and I told him I had the profile ones while wondering if I should reply to my son. In the meanwhile, Keira was starting to lose interest, blaming it on Ben, boring as fuck.
“I mean, naughty pics?”
How dare he? “Keira, your son is asking for naughty pics!” I snitched on him within two seconds, and this made her laugh.
She lifted her blouse, and took a picture of her breasts supported by a sexy bra, then added a few filters. “I’m going to send this to your son to see if he gains interest.”
“Didn’t he reply to you?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I told you, he’s a virgin.”
“I bet he’s not.” I was jealous she was talking to him, and even more as I saw her sending that pic. Surely that would get his interest soon enough.
“Fucking hell, bro, look at this!” I showed him the picture of those boobs.
“Wow, she must be desperate! Just like that?”
We both stayed worshipping that rack, cocks hardening, tension building up.
“Is she texting you?” I asked. The milf texting J seemed more interesting in my eyes, there was something vaguely familiar in her pics.
“Send your cock, bro.”
“J, no. What for?”
“Give me your phone, bro,” and he texted her a naughty line, with her reply back. It didn’t take long for the both of us to be back and forth again, replying to one or another, teasing and sexting. Damn, I was needing to jerk off way too much.
Then, the other women replied to me. The one that said her name was Kiran. It was Maria and Kiran sexting us, they were both old enough to be our mothers, and they knew it. It was not like we were lying to them, except maybe at a few years of age. But being nineteen or twenty-three, the difference wasn’t much.
“You made my heart skip a beat too.”
Fuck. I went through her pics again, and she was gorgeous. That blonde hair – there was something about the blonde hair as I enlarged her pictures. She had some freckles on one of them, not covered by a homogenous layer of makeup. My brain didn’t have much blood flowing to it, but I loved picking up small details. My mother had freckles all over her face, but you could only tell when she was out of the shower, without makeup. Not that I ever watched her naked. Not that I ever peeked through the fringes and observe her changing, her soft skin and large breasts being covered back again by her panties and bra. She had a nice soft-trimmed ginger bush covering her pussy, and that made me cum four times in a row the first time I saw it and made me so fucking jealous of dad, getting to eat that pussy anytime he wants.
Then, another pic of breasts from the first milf, and J and I drooled all over it. “She seems to want some young cock pretty badly.”
I asked Kiran what she did, and then casual things while replying back to the first milf and discussing with J ten thousand ways to fuck them. We were horny, cocks still inside our shorts, but already jerking off discreetly while sexting them. It wasn’t the first time this happened.
“Are you married?”
It took her a few minutes for her to come back to me.
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
Why was she saying sorry?
“I don’t judge.”
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” she texted back. No. She was about to slip between my fingers, and he was watching it all happening – there was a woman a couple weeks back just like that.
“You’re safe with me.” That was the only thing that came to my mind, and I was finding it hard to keep all chats happening at the same time. There were a couple of other women making conversation, but I ignored them all. I wanted to hear more from this enigmatic one.
“Has she sent another boobs pic?” J asked, taking a dick pic with his phone.
“Dude, what are you doing?”
“Just gaziantep otele gelen escort bayan in case, you know?”
“Only if they ask for it, ok? Don’t fuck this up, man. Is she saying anything to you?” I asked, and he told me she wasn’t getting any spicier.
And the first milf, Maria, send me a pic of her behind. Sexy behind, I gotta say. I was a bit lost in what to do besides just staring.
“Bro, she’s fucking hot!” J said, and he grabbed my phone and sent the picture to his. “I’ll be back in a second, bro,” and he walked into the bathroom.
I was still visualizing the photo she sent, my eyes were drawn to a small element in the picture. There was a mark just below the panties that I recognized. Could it be?
It got me very confused, and a bit freaked out at the same time. The age… I mean, even if it was J’s mother, she would lie about her age, no? Like we did? I remember spending hours on social media reviewing her pictures – the beach ones, bikini poses, fucking jerking off countless times to her body – and my mom’s too, but I couldn’t just confess that to J, could I? But that mark.
J comes back with a post-orgasm face that I recognized quite well, and I wondered if he just jerked off to a picture of his mom. “You ok, buddy?”
“Fuck. Couldn’t hold it any longer.”
“Do you wanna call it a night? We can play some more COD and get some snacks.”
He grabbed his cock over his shorts, “fuck no, I wanna see where this is going, bro. Imagine we finally get a piece of ass like that, fuck everything else. I wanna bang that!”
J shared with me a picture of his boner, covered by his shorts, and I sent it to Maria, still non-stop thinking about her previous picture. I had a perfect memory for some small details that weren’t useful in any way, but finally, this came to prove me wrong. I needed more evidence, and I was sure I’d have it.
“Show me that gorgeous ass again,” I demanded while J looked over my shoulder. Could he tell?
We were always too intimate, but we didn’t care. We could be young but not stupid, and for sure, we never let others dictate the terms of our friendship.
“Do you think she will send another ass pic?” I asked, nervous that he find out. In the back of my head, could it be his mother playing a prank on us? They were still pissed with the Mormon joke, and that made me realize they were super dumb when drunk. Which they probably were again.
No, he didn’t suspect he was hard because of his mother, and I wasn’t going to tell him. The J I knew got all excited and horny to discuss my mom but would freak out if things were for real, I suspected. Then, that blessed picture came along, her with no panties on, just her bare ass, and there it was, like a carbon copy, the mark I knew to recognize so well from jerking off to her body.
Could it be possible for two women to have the same mark?
Think, Ben, think. Don’t fuck this up.
Why was I sexting my son?
Was it different with James? Maybe? I tried to convince myself that all of this was normal and kept the wine flowing. Keira was excited, taking all kinds of pictures as if she hadn’t had any. The wig was glorious, and so was mine, but I was more controlled than she was.
James stopped texting me, and I don’t know why, but I observed as Keira interacted with my son. She showed me the pics he sent her from his bulge, and god, that got me hornier than I wanted. He was a fine young man with a big tool between his legs. But then I looked better – that wasn’t his boner. My son’s cock has a curve, and that one was straight as an arrow, but I didn’t dare talk specifics to Keira.
“I bet he’s not a virgin, Monica.”
And then, James sent a naughtier pic.
“Oh christ, we need to stop this,” I told Keira. She took the phone from my hands and went red in the face.
“How dare he send you this? He’s grounded!”
“Keira. They don’t know it’s us.”
This time, he sent a picture of him on a couch which I recognized very well, with the head of his cock slipping through the waistband of his shorts. It was just the tip, but I knew what a cock looks like.
I saw how she reacted. She asked to see again and enlarged it.
“Are we crossing a line?”
“You sent my son a pic of your ass without panties. Maybe? I bet they are sharing all the pics, as we are.”
Another glass of wine, and I just wanted to slip my hand under my panties. It was disheartening to know our sons were making us so horny that we lost all sight of the goal in the first place.
The intention was to make them beg. And then fake a date, and get them caught red-handed somehow. God, it sounded so stupid now, but there was still plenty of time to stop this from happening.
But now we were the ones begging for more, at least between ourselves, and I didn’t know if I could tolerate seeing my son’s cock, in case he decided to show it. I replied with a “thank you” when he told me I was safe with him. And then added, “I’m just too old for you. And you don’t look twenty-three.”
James sent me another picture, this time with the head of his cock fully showing, and I send it to Keira, and her hand pressed over her pussy without any problems. We shared a lot of intimate moments – fuck, we even shared a few men whenever our husbands, those pricks, went on week-long business trips. Keira stepped out of the room, and at least she left me alone with my son.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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