My Futa Mommy: The Bundle

My Futa Mommy: The Bundle

My Futa Mommy, Books One to Five

 

Copyright 2021 Alex Lum

Cover photo courtesy of DepositPhotos.com

 

 

Table of Contents

Filled by My Futa Mommy

Trained by My Futa Mommy

Punished by My Futa Mommy

Fertile for My Futa Mommy

Shared by My Futa Mommy

About Alex Lum

Filled by My Futa Mommy

I stare through the gap in the door as she showers.

I know I'm not supposed to look, but it's been days now since Mom came home from her medical trial. She never said what it was about, and all the paperwork is locked in her safe so I can't snoop.

Her face is to the wall, one arm braced against the tiles, and her other rests on her stomach or nearabouts. All I want is for her to turn around so I can see that nothing has changed. God knows they could've transformed her into some kind of mutant alien, or maybe replaced her with a robot. Once she turns around, though, I'll be certain she's still my Mom.

That's why I always clung to her when I was younger, when it was just me and her against the world. In those days, we only had each other and that was all that mattered. Now I'm in college, home for the holidays, and we're finally together again.

"Kayla," Mom suddenly calls out. Her voice makes me jump but somehow, I manage to keep quiet. "Could you bring me a towel?"

Did she see me? No, I think. That'd be impossible. The hallway lights are off and it's late. She can't know I'm there. Crawling away from the door, I move slowly back towards my bedroom. "Sure, Mom," I say once I'm on my feet. "Just a second!"

In a rush, I grab a towel from the closet opposite my room. My heart beats a little faster in my chest — my hands tremble too — while a lump forms in my throat. Oh God. She wants me to go in there. And I have to, right? I said yes. If she asks about me spying, I'll tell her I wasn't supposed to look; that I know I did a bad thing but I was curious. I've missed her. Surely Mom will accept that for an explanation.

My feet carry me down the hallway and back towards the bathroom, the towel clutched tightly against my chest. Eyes on the ground, I nudge the bathroom door open with my foot and step inside. "Here, Mom." I hold it out towards the shower. "I'm gonna go finish my homework off and—"

"Sweetheart," she says, in that compelling yet caring voice of hers. It always soothed me when I was younger, made me feel safe, and it does exactly that now. "You can come closer, you know. You're a grown woman."

I always have been since my breasts grew and I realized what certain parts of my body were for. We never had the birds and the bees talk, but TV helped to fill in the gaps.

"Sorry," I mumble. Hesitantly, I step closer to the shower and lift my head. I can do this, I tell myself. Nothing about her has changed. She's the same mom who's always loved and supported me. The curtain slides open when I move closer and it's like, suddenly she's not my mom. Suddenly she's someone new. Someone vastly different. "Um…here's your towel."

"Thank you, baby." She takes it and throws the towel over the shower railing, then leans across the gap between us and plants a kiss on my cheek. Between her legs, however, dangles a cock. Heat blooms in my belly when I see it, making me flush bright red with embarrassment. Of all the things I was expecting to see, this wasn't it. "I love you."

"Love you too, Mom." Despite being twenty now, I've never felt uncomfortable telling her how I feel. It was something she encouraged and cherished. "I'm…"

"Is something wrong?" Mom asks, like she knows I've seen it. "Oh. Right. This was what the trial was for. You don't need to worry," she says, as if that will reassure me. "I'm still your mom, okay?"

I nod. It's still there, though. A long, pink cock between her legs, above where the rest of her is. Part of me wants to touch it. I've never felt one before, or gotten this close. Boys weren't something I was interested in in high school, or college, so I haven't bother dating at all. "Does it—" I hesitate. "Does it hurt?"

"No." She smiles. There's the mom I love. Her eyes light up as she extends her hand towards me. "Would you like to feel it?

* * *

 

Wait. I didn't mean it like that, and yet she's offering anyway. Extending her trust. Her love. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod, taking a step forward. I shouldn't be doing this, a voice in the back of my mind tells me, but I want to know. Does it make her feel good? Will it make her happy?

She takes my hand gently, draws me in till my hand trembles above her cock, then cups our hands around its thick girth. It's warm, I think. Warmer than I expected. Softer too, but I can feel it harden against me. Our hands run down the length of it as Mom shudders, grasping the shower rail with one hand to hold herself upright.

"See?" she murmurs. "It's just me. There's nothing different about it."

"But it's…" I trail off, unsure how to explain that there's fluid leaking from the tip. "Am I hurting you, Mom?"

"No, sweetie. It's fine. Your hand is just stimulating, that's all."

"Sorry." I go to pull away but her hand is atop of mine, and her cock feels wonderful. I know I'm not meant to ask, that I should just go to bed and ignore it, but I'm curious. Really, really curious. "Does it feel good? Having it?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Mom laughs, as if I'm just her silly girl again. She steps out of the shower while our hands are still joined and the only thing I can wonder is: what's next? Every part of me says to walk away. I know I should. I've read a lot of books over the past two years at college but none of them deal with this kind of love. "Am I helping it to?"

"Kayla." There's a serious tone to her voice now, like she can read my mind. Maybe she knows what I'm going to ask. Maybe she sees it in my eyes. "There are certain things that mothers just can't do with their daughters," she explains. "It's not that I don't love you but"

"You always said we'd be together."

She smiles placatingly. My hand delves down to find the rest of her cock and she gasps, eyes never leaving mine. Then, ever so slowly, she pushes my hand down further. I can feel how wet she is.

"We could be." Mom brings our hands back up, eyes half-closed as she shudders. "Together. But you could never tell anyone. About the trials, or this. Or what we do together."

"I wouldn't," I promise. I never wanted to leave for college, but she insisted. She said it was good for me. Distance only made the heart grow fonder, it seemed, because standing here in this bathroom with her reminds me how much I need her. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too."

This time she kisses me on the lips. The gentleness of it sends ripples of pleasure through my body and I can't help but moan. I feel myself get wetter down there when she kisses me again, cradling my head with her other hand. Mom draws me in, smiling, before she releases my hand and tugs the hem of my shirt up.

"Have you been with a boy yet?"

 

I shake my head.

"Oh, my precious angel. It's going to feel so good then."

I want it to. I need it to. Need her to. Last night, I could hear her gasping through the bedroom door and the mattress creaking. It made me wonder what happened during the trials because I couldn't recall her ever making those kinds of noises before.

"First, I want you to take your clothes off." Her thumb grazes my belly button. More sparks shoot through my body, all coalescing together where it aches. Heat warms my face as the arousal between my thighs grow, and it's like she can sense it because she says, "Then, I'll show you how much I love you."

"Okay." I draw my hand away from her cock and step back. The tip still weeps. It juts out from her body now, erect and firm. Unconsciously, I lick my lips at the sight of it before quickly returning to removing my shirt and bra. My nipples ache when I free my breasts, but I don't waste time trying to soothe them. Mom will do that for me.

Next, I slide my pants down. There are scars on my legs from various accidents, and a small heart tattoo. Something I hadn't gotten around to telling her about. Her eyes wander down my naked upper body, as if she's truly seeing me the first time.

I hope she is.

"Wait." My hands are on my panties when Mom speaks. "Let me."

Let her…If it were possible to orgasm to words alone, I would've. She smiles and slips her fingers over the waistband, hooking it, kneeling as she tugs them down slowly. Her hot breath makes me shiver while Mom nudges my legs apart ever so slightly.

"Oh, look at you," Mom murmurs appreciatively. "So wet." Her fingers slide over my cleft and I almost cry out in surprise. "You know just how to make me happy, don't you?"

I nod. That's what I want. For her to be happy. With me, and only me. I don't want to share her with anyone else, or hear her love anyone else. When she's happy, she smiles; there's no arguing or fighting, only laughter and giggling like we're two girls sharing a dorm room.

"Now close your eyes."

Okay. That's the only thought that goes through my mind. My eyelids flutter closed, but I can feel her lips graze my thighs. Her tongue flicking out over the expanse of them. I reach for the shower railing but my fingers skim the metal bar and I can't get a grip, so I clutch her ponytail instead.

My body trembles when she gives a long, slow lick. I want to cry out, but if I do, someone might hear. Someone might ask 'What was that noise? Is your daughter okay?' and then things would get complicated. So instead, I hold it in.

Every movement of her tongue makes me whimper. My grasp on her hair tightens and Mom groans like she did last night.

"My perfect girl," she says, tilting her head to look up at me. There's something in her eyes that I don't quite recognize; a hunger I've never seen before. "Pretty little Kayla. Turn around for me, will you?"

I do exactly what she says when she says it. Turn around, bend over. Spread your thighs. Show me that beautiful pussy of yours. By the time my hands grasp the bathroom sink, the porcelain surprisingly cold against my skin, there's something leaking from within me.

"Such a good girl, aren't you?" Mom croons in my ear as she stands behind me. Her fingers dip inside me, curling against me. She's inspecting my pussy, I think. Approving me. "Would you like me to use my cock now?"

"Please."

I've been ready for so long now that I don't know what I'd do if she hadn't said that.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me, Mommy."

 

* * *

 

I turn bright red when I say those words aloud, as if I haven't been repeating them in my brain. Or thinking about what would happen. Kneeling at the door and watching her in the shower, wishing I was in there with her. Imagining how it would be if I could touch her.

Now here we are.

"Such manners."

The mirror reflects my smile. Mom steps closer and cups my breasts with her hands, squeezing them and circling my nipples with her thumbs. Quietly, I gasp. I'd forgotten just how sore they were.

"Shh. Mommy's going to make it all better now."

She presses herself flush against me, cock sliding between my legs, rubbing over my clit. Back and forth, she moves, till my whimpering becomes louder. It feels so good when she does that; her balls tickle my ass, the tip of her cock teasing me with the promise she's made.

Then I feel it.

A burning stretch as her cock presses against my pussy. I try not to cry out at the invasion but my body doesn't seem to want to adjust to her. Still, she inches her way inside me, till her hips snap forward and suddenly her cock sinks completely inside me.

"Fuck," she groans. "Ooh, baby, you feel so good.

It's an odd, delightful sensation. Her cock buried within me, throbbing while I clench around it.

Mom draws her hips back, slips out of me, then thrusts inside me again. I gasp at the intrusion, but over and over she shoves her cock into me, filling me. My body stretches to accommodate her, and soon enough she's shoving me hard against the sink.

I brace myself better, hold myself up as her hips begin to move. The moans just slip out, no matter how much I bite my lip; I try to swallow them, to keep quiet, but I can't help it. I beg her, "Harder, Mommy."

"Harder?" There's a tone to her voice. It sends a shiver down my spine and my pussy clenches. I've masturbated before, but it never felt this good. I never felt so filled with love and cock. "Use your manners, sweetie."

"Please!" I look into the mirror and see her there, smiling. She's so beautiful, like a goddess, like a mother who has found her perfect daughter. "Fuck me harder."

"Of course."

Her hands wrap around my waist, sliding between my thighs. She teases my clit and begins to rock her hips again, snapping them forward each time I push against her. Over and over, her balls slap my ass, sending shockwaves through me that make me think of those rare times she spanked me. Of the moment she's teasingly struck me on the butt with a wooden spoon in the kitchen.

"Nngh. Yes, Mommy. Like that."

I don't notice when she increases the pace, but suddenly her cock is pounding into me harder than I ever expected. Wet, slick noises come from my pussy as she does. Mom is moaning herself, loudly; she sounds like she's in heaven. Gasping and groaning, murmuring, "Oh, baby. Such a good girl."

I don't want her to stop. I belong on her cock, I think. I want to stay there, but I can't. My legs are beginning to turn to jelly, and if I don't hold on, she probably won't fuck me again.

Then she cries out. It's sudden. Mom's impaling me on her cock and shuddering against me, burying herself deeper than before.

"God! Kayla!" She spills inside me, filling me. Still, she doesn't stop pounding her cock into my pussy. I feel heavy, full; her release within me is warm, coating her cock, making everything so much slicker and delightful.

I try to turn to look at her. "Mom?"

"Shh."

"Mom, I can't hold on. I need to—"

My body wants to come. Every part of me needs to. I'm burning up while her fingers caress my clit, her cock slides over some sweet spot within me. She's pinching and tweaking my nipple with her other hand, mixing pain with pleasure. I try to hold back. I focus on the feeling of her inside me, her hands on my body, but that just makes it worse.

Eventually, I can't hold back anymore. My body reaches a crest and the dam within me bursts. I orgasm hard, shuddering against her, crying out as I squirt. "Oh!"

I don't mean to make a mess, but I'll clean it up later.

Her cum spills down my legs, leaking out from inside my pussy. White creamy liquid smears my skin as she continues to thrust her cock inside me. She fucks me hard and quickly pushes me to a second orgasm that's just as delightful as the first, all while our hips move forward and back, grinding against each other. Then I collapse and lean my weight on the sink.

"Didn't that feel good, baby?" she asks. I nod. She's still swollen inside me, my pussy clenching tighter as if it knows I don't want to let go. My head buzzes like I've just been on a rollercoaster, but it's okay, I think. "Aww, look at you." She sighs. "You've only come twice and you're exhausted already."

"I'm sorry." I don't want to disappoint her. "We can practice, can't we?"

Mom smiles, pets my hair then wraps her arms around me. She holds me tight, kisses my cheek repeatedly. "I'm sure we can. I'll do some research and see if we can't train that lovely little pussy of yours."

"Yay," I mumble. "But I—"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not a pet, Mom."

She laughs and strokes my hair again. "I know that. You're my precious baby girl. Still, we're going to have to practice if you want to last longer. I'll have to fuck you tomorrow night too, is that okay?"

"Yes."

At long last, she withdraws her cock. I force myself to stand properly as she pulls down the towel from the railing and wipes herself clean. "Look at the mess you made," Mom says. She shakes her head, smiling as she mops it off the floor with the towel. "Silly girl."

I turn as red as a tomato but Mom doesn't say anything more. She pats me on the cheek and takes my hand, guiding me out of the bathroom. I stumble, naked and unsteady, till her arm wraps around my waist. "Come on. How about we make some s'mores? You can't train on an empty stomach."

###

 

 

 

Trained by My Futa Mommy

Since that day, I haven't been able to forget the look in Mom's eyes, or the way she held me against her. Every so often, when we're cooking in the kitchen, she'll come up behind me for a hug and I can feel that hard cock between her legs.

She’ll remind me of what she said. Of what she promised me.

But then she got a phone call from the research center, so Mom took a bag and left before she could come through.

Before she…

I sit at the kitchen table, drumming my fingers against the wood. Any moment now, my beautiful Mom will come through that door. I just know it. She'll hug me again, lead me to the bathroom and pull me into the shower with her. Press her fingers deep inside me and—

Oh. I shift in my seat and squeeze my thighs together. Is this all it takes to get wet for her? Mom hasn't been home in three days, but I still have to sit here and pretend that everything's normal.

Pretend I don't have that image of her stuck inside my head.

It's been lonely without her. Quiet. I guess you could even say it's been boring. There isn't much of anything to clean or do. Cooking is a waste of time when it's only me, and TV is nothing but reruns.

Sometimes, though, I'll step inside Mom's room and lay on the bed. There's a vibrator in her top drawer, so I tug it open and pull that cold metal thing out. Then I slide it just between my thighs, over my swollen clit, and tease the entrance of my pussy like Mom would.

She'd touch me, I think. Circle my nipples with her thumb or her wet tongue, caressing them till they were hard and puckered. Press her hand on my belly and hold me down while she rubs her cock against me.

God, I've never wanted anything as badly as I want her to come home and take me. Bend me over the kitchen table, shove herself inside me and fuck me till I'm raw and trembling.

But Mom isn't here.

It's just me, alone and bored, blushing like some child as I wonder what Mom is doing. Who she's doing. A tiny spark of jealousy rears its head inside me at the thought. She'd never touch anyone but me, wouldn't she? Mom loves me and I love her, and she isn't the kind of person who'd do that.

She'd never…

The sound of the doorbell ringing breaks the silence and I almost jump out of my seat. It has to be her. It has to be Mom finally coming home, and once she's here, she'll never leave again.

Right?

"Mom?" I call out. The chair slides back as I stand and rush to open the front door. The white shirt I've got on is large enough to cover me down to my hips, and a loose pair of shorts hides the damp spot that stains my panties. "Mommy?"

"Sweetie, can you hold the door open for me?" Her voice! Oh God, I've missed hearing it. Going to bed these past few nights without having someone to say 'good night' to left me feeling a little uneasy. "I need to bring these boxes inside."

"Okay." I try to contain my excitement when I glimpse her through the eyehole. With a twist of the knob, I drag it open and step out of the way, doing as she asks. "Hi, Mom," I say quietly. "I missed you."

She smiles then picks up a large cardboard box and carries it inside. One by one, she brings four of them into the living room before I finally close the door and turn around to face her. Mom stands right there; her eyes linger on me, on my chest, and I blush. Does she know what I've been doing? What I've been thinking about?

"I missed you too, baby." Two steps forward brings her close to me, and her lips suddenly press against mine. She kisses me so softly and sweetly that I almost melt in the arms she wraps around me. Mom draws me into a hug, holding me against her, slotting that rigid cock of hers perfectly into the space between my thighs. "I've missed you so much."

A moan slips out of me, low and desperate. I reach up and curl my arms around her neck, hugging her in return, trapping her cock where I need it most.

"Have you been a good girl?"

No. "Yes."

Why do I lie? I don't know. It seems almost pathetic how much I longed for her, but none of that matters now. Mom has me and I have her. We have each other, and there's no one to say this is wrong. No one to tell me it's disgusting or abhorrent when it's not.

It's beautiful. She’s beautiful.

"Mom?"

"Yes, baby?"

I look up at her with all the heat I can muster and draw my bottom lip between my teeth. Quietly, I ask her, "Have you been good too?"

She laughs and nods. Lets me go, tugs my arms down and steps away. Then Mom looks over her shoulder and grins like she doesn't have a care in the world. She thrusts her hand out toward me, holding it there as if I'm meant to take it.

"No, baby, I haven't." She winks like I should understand. "I've been thinking about you."

Oh. I duck my head, let my cheeks flush red and grab her hand. Mom guides me straight into the living room where the boxes are before she shoves me down onto the couch. I try to swallow the lump that forms in my throat but butterflies fill my stomach when she opens one of the large boxes. Mom then lifts out a small gray box and sits it on the arm of the couch.

"What is it?"

"Take your clothes off, Kayla."

"Okay." One by one, I undo the buttons on my shirt and let it fall down my arms. Her eyes linger on my breasts, not covered by any bra or binding. Instinctively, I fold my arms over my chest and look down.

So does she.

Mom's gaze lands on my belly then slowly lowers, till she's staring directly at my pussy. My throbbing, aching pussy that clenches in response. Wetness pools there, growing the longer she stares at me, so I force myself to look elsewhere. Anywhere but her. Anywhere that doesn't make my body tingle.