Two Moms, One Son
I want to rub my cock against those thighs…
The owner of the legs I kept glancing at in open admiration was none other than my mom.
And across from me, the one propping her head up on her own toned legs was also none other than my mom.
Why two moms? Well, of course.
The two of them were a lesbian couple.
My first mom lay sprawled out, completely unaware that her panties were on full display beneath her short shorts, wriggling her dangling toes as if that were the most important thing in the world. And I was too busy secretly drinking in the sight to pay attention to anything else.
"Doesn't that woman look like she got a boob job?"
"You'd have to open them up to know for sure."
"I think I can tell without opening them. What about you, son? How does it look to a guy?"
Their cozy chatter cut off as both pairs of eyes swung toward me at once.
"I don't really know about that kind of thing."
I jerked my gaze away from what I'd been stealing looks at and shook my head. Their sharp stares drifted back to the movie on the TV.
I'd meant it. I'd been so busy ogling those legs that I hadn't given the actress's chest a proper look at all.
With their attention elsewhere again, I let my eyes drop once more. There they were—the thick, plush thighs resting across my lap, and below them the foot that kept swaying.
I wish she'd use that foot to rub my cock.
My moms were beautiful. Both of them were only thirty-five this year, still young. Looking at them you might think they were in their twenties… no, that might be pushing it. Still.
Of the two, my first mom came closest to my ideal type. When I was little I'd even daydreamed about marrying her someday. If not for the second mom who always claimed the space at her side, it might not have been completely impossible.
And how old was I? Exactly twenty this year.
So had my mom given birth to me at fifteen? Not even close.
Anyone with half a brain would have figured it out already—neither of them was my birth mother.
My first mom was Ha Sujeong. Stepmom felt off; guardian fit better. We shared neither blood nor paperwork.
The memories from when I was eleven were still crystal clear. Back then she had been the next-door unnie who played with me whenever my real parents left me alone all day. When Dad came home and fought with my birth mother, she would call me over from where I crouched on the studio stairs, feed me, and tell me it would be all right.
I had no shame at all.
Not long after, Dad died in an accident. My birth mother, it seemed, couldn't stand the sight of me anymore. She handed me over to Sujeong—no, she dumped me. "Just for one day," she said, and then vanished forever.
"How are we supposed to raise a kid this big? Send him to an orphanage."
"How can you say that… Please, I'm begging you…"
"Then choose. Him or me. I hate that there's already something between us."
"Please, Hyena. He's still just a little kid."
Cha Hyena. My second mom.
Even then the two of them had been lovers—both twenty-six. Because of me they had been on the verge of breaking up. Or maybe it was better to say I had been on the verge of being abandoned all over again.
"I'll be good! I'll run every errand, I'll do anything. I won't get in the way—anything!"
That was the first time I had ever begged. I hadn't begged even when Dad hit me. Instinct drove me to my knees; I clasped my hands and wailed. I would rather have died than go to an orphanage, and back then I already liked Unnie Sujeong.
And just like that, the two of them became my moms.
"So… should I stop calling you Unnie now?"
"Yeah. I've always wanted to try being a young mom. I love it. Hehe. Besides, if you call me Mom you'll have to take care of us when we're old. Ever seen anyone filial to an unnie?"
That was her reason. She cleaned up the titles first, then squeezed me onto the tiny bed in the one-room apartment that had already been cramped with just the two of them—so I would feel like this was a family.
From that day on, so I wouldn't get confused, I called them Ha-mam and Cha-mam. Not that I had much occasion to call Cha-mam. She was pretty scary—not as bad as Dad, but close. The day I learned she held black belts in several martial arts hit me harder than the day I realized they weren't cousins or friends but lovers. That was the day I first understood a woman could beat me to death too.
Quiet but, as it turned out, fiercely upright, Cha-mam had thrashed me once for hanging around with kids who mocked another boy because his mom was Filipino. And even now she still scared me a little.
"Oh, right. Did you find the stock that was missing yesterday?"
"Found it. It had fallen into a corner of the trunk."
The two of them ran an online business. About two years after they took me in they started buying clothes wholesale in Seoul and selling them online. It did well enough that we left the one-room apartment and now lived on the top floor of a villa—still rented, but with four rooms: a dress room and a bedroom for each of us. The dress room was small, so my clothes stayed in my room; that was why I got the biggest one. Of course I had refused out of guilt. Cha-mam had even pointed out that I wasn't paying rent and should take that into account, but our pretty Ha-mam insisted and I ended up with the master bedroom.
Right now the three of us were tangled together on the three-seater sofa in the wide living room. If you could even call it sitting. Ha-mam was lying sideways the way she always did, and the two of us on either side of her were serving as her pillow and footrest. And there I was, happy about it, sneaking looks at her legs.
"And I'd rather not talk about work on our day off."
"Sure. Your shit's pretty thick, huh."
"Not that thick. Son, lift your butt."
After denying Cha-mam's comment about the thickness of her shit, Ha-mam's gaze swung to me. I snapped my eyes back to the screen, then leisurely looked at her again. When I didn't lift my hips, she started tapping my pelvis with her toes.
"My toes are cold. Hurry up."
"Yes."
When I looked down, those wriggling toes filled my vision. In that brief instant I memorized her small, clean feet—the pale, soft-looking soles, the impossibly neat heels.
"It's the middle of summer. Why are your toes cold?"
"Because you dropped the AC to twenty-two. Twenty-five is perfect."
"I'm still hot. If you're cold, put something on."
"My body can handle it. It's my feet that are cold. That's why I use our son's butt."
"Suit yourself."
The moment I lifted my hips, Ha-mam pouted cutely and shoved both feet underneath. I felt the full press of her insteps against my ass. Even after they were buried she kept wriggling her toes. It felt a little like getting a finger up the ass, but because they were her feet I liked it. I was even starting to feel the first stirrings of a hard-on.
"Nngh! Ugh! I'm—coming. Fuck."
The title had clearly said action. My eyes flicked to the TV. The male villain was jerking off against a bathroom wall, and the actor was so convincing the veins stood out on the hand braced against the tile. Embarrassed, I glanced sideways at my two moms—and locked eyes straight with Ha-mam.
"Do you do it like that too, son? Ever tried it in the bathroom?"
That was exactly why I'd been nervous. Ha-mam had zero filter.
"Maybe I should sew that mouth shut."
Thankfully Cha-mam kept her in line. Meeting someone who balanced her so perfectly couldn't have been easy.
"What's the big deal? I don't keep secrets from my son. And our son's not shy around his moms either, right?"
"Just stop talking. Seriously."
But today the training seemed to have failed. Cha-mam only shook her head in defeat and didn't try to silence her again. Now I was the only one left squirming.
"Ah… yeah…"
"They say for guys the moment they come is the peak. Like an orgasm, right? Does it feel good?"
"Uh, well… that's not wrong, but…"
I mumbled my way through the answer. My face burned; my heart hammered. Afraid they'd notice the change in my body, I took a long breath and looked at Cha-mam. She had given up on Ha-mam a moment ago, but my silent plea for rescue made her turn back.
"Mom'll shut her mouth for you. Happy now?"
"Ah…"
I hadn't expected her to help like this. Cha-mam bent low and stole the lips of Ha-mam, whose head still rested on her knee. Cha-mam's short hair spilled forward and hid both their faces, but the tangle of mouths in the gap was crystal clear.
Smack. Smack.
She could have just kept her covered. Instead she started sucking. Tongues might have been involved. Still, I wasn't shocked. I'd already watched the two of them kiss more than a thousand times.
"Haa… my body's getting a little hot. What should I do?"
"There's still a long way till the movie ends."
After that fierce kiss, Ha-mam's legs slipped free from under me and folded up. Every time they moved, the ass cheeks visible beneath her shorts clenched and loosened. If the hem had been even a little wider I might have seen the whole crack.
"Son, you still have to answer. When the cum comes out, does it feel totally different from peeing? Is it dizzying?"
"I'm done."
I'd thought she had forgotten. Ha-mam picked the question right back up, and Cha-mam turned to the TV with the air of someone who had already done everything she could.
Caught off guard while staring at Ha-mam's ass, my eyes met hers again. Heat flooded my face.
"Come on. Embarrassed? Then should Mom go first? I can tell you every single place that feels good when you touch it."
"Huh? Ah…"
"You don't even want to hear it?"
I looked at Cha-mam with a helpless face, but she clearly had no intention of saving me again. Instead she stood up from the sofa.
"Bathroom."
"Okay."
The second she left, Ha-mam propped an arm on the sofa and fixed me with a look that said the real interrogation was about to begin.
"You don't want to talk and you don't want to listen? Mom's getting sulky, you know?"
As she spoke she slid her foot back under my ass. Her toes prodded insistently against my asshole, over and over.