Deb’s Filthy Setup: Helping Anthony Claim His Mom’s Cunt
Deb leaned back on the velvet chaise in her dimly lit playroom, legs crossed, black lace teddy riding high on her thighs. Across from her sat Anthony—nervous, hard, cock already leaking through his boxers. He’d been confessing his darkest secret for weeks: the way he stroked himself raw thinking about Jeanne Catherine Lamonica, his own mother. The woman who raised him. The one whose used panties he still stole from the laundry hamper. The one whose thick ass and heavy tits he pictured every time he came.
Deb smiled like a predator. “Tell me again, baby. Tell Mommy Deb exactly what you want to do to that cheating, cock-hungry cunt who birthed you.”
Anthony’s voice cracked. “I want to… fuck her. Bend her over the kitchen counter where she used to make my lunches and ram my cock into the same hole that pushed me out. I want to make her scream my name while I breed her again—fill that mommy pussy with the son she made, pump her so full she leaks for days. I want her crying, begging, admitting she’s been a slutty whore who needs her own boy’s dick to feel complete.”
Deb licked her lips. “Good boy. And tonight… we’re making it real.”
She’d already texted Jeanne from Anthony’s phone earlier that day. A simple lure: “Mom, need to talk. Important. Come over tonight. Alone.” Jeanne arrived in a tight red dress—curves spilling out, nipples hard against the fabric, heels clicking like she knew she was walking into trouble. Deb greeted her at the door with a glass of wine laced just enough to loosen inhibitions. Within minutes Jeanne was on the couch, giggling, cheeks flushed, unaware her son was watching from the shadows.
Deb played the gracious host—until she wasn’t. She slid behind Jeanne, hands roaming, whispering filth in her ear. “You’ve raised such a handsome boy, Jeanne. So big… so hard… he’s been jerking that fat cock thinking about this pussy for years.” Jeanne froze, eyes wide, but Deb didn’t let her pull away. She yanked the dress down, exposing those full, milky tits Anthony had fantasized about sucking since puberty. “Look at these udders. Perfect for your son to drain while he breeds you like the bitch in heat you are.”
Anthony stepped into the light—cock out, throbbing, pre-cum dripping. Jeanne gasped, tried to cover herself, but Deb pinned her arms. “No hiding, Mommy. Your boy’s here to collect what’s his.” Anthony dropped to his knees between his mother’s spread thighs, shoved the dress up to her waist, and buried his face in her cunt. Jeanne moaned—half protest, half surrender—as his tongue lapped at her already soaking folds. “Fuck… Anthony… we can’t… oh god, yes—deeper—”
Deb laughed darkly, fingers twisting Jeanne’s nipples. “Hear that? She’s dripping for her own son. What kind of mother gets this wet knowing her boy wants to stuff her full?” Anthony pulled back, chin glistening, and lined his cock up with the entrance he’d come from. One hard thrust and he was balls-deep in his mother’s cunt—hot, tight, gripping him like it never wanted to let go.
Jeanne screamed—pleasure, shame, ecstasy colliding. Anthony fucked her mercilessly, hips slamming, balls slapping her ass. “This is what you’ve been teasing me with your whole life, Mom. This sloppy mommy cunt belongs to me now.” Deb straddled Jeanne’s face, grinding her own pussy on the older woman’s mouth while Anthony pounded harder. “Eat me while your son breeds you, slut. Taste how wet it makes me to watch him ruin you.”
Anthony’s thrusts grew brutal. “Gonna cum inside you, Mom. Gonna knock you up with your own grandchild. Say it—beg your son to breed you.” Jeanne broke, sobbing around Deb’s clit: “Please… Anthony… breed Mommy… fill me… make me yours… cum in your mother’s cunt!”
He exploded—thick, hot ropes flooding her depths, pumping until it overflowed, dripping down her ass crack. Deb came on Jeanne’s tongue at the same moment, grinding out her orgasm while Anthony kept shallow-thrusting, making sure every drop stayed buried.
When he finally pulled out, cum poured from Jeanne’s gaping pussy. Deb scooped it up, fed it to her. “Clean your son’s mess, Mommy. This is just the beginning. Anthony’s moving back in tomorrow. And every night he’s going to fuck this incestuous hole until you’re waddling around pregnant again.”
Jeanne lay there—dress ruined, thighs trembling, eyes glassy with submission and afterglow. Anthony leaned down, kissed her deeply—tongue claiming what he’d always wanted.
Deb winked at the camera she’d set up in the corner. “Smile, Mommy. Your boy’s finally home.”