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I was 21 years old the last time I attended a family reunion on my dad’s side. That was also the family reunion where I fucked my stepmom.
It was a rare winter function and because of my grandma being sick, my uncles decided to have it in fuckin Indiana which is where she lived with two of my aunts who took care of her. Pops loaded my mom, my brothers, and my sisters up in our van and drove us nine and a half straight, long, boring hours from Mississippi to the place where half of our folks were from.
My uncles had rented out a conference hotel, and as one of the last attending 20+ year old young men in the family, in addition to having to put something down on my own room I ended up rooming with my half-brother Stef, who my dad had with Joy, his ex-wife from a previous marriage.
Stef and I didn’t grow up together, but we got along well enough since he came to stay with us every summer. Joy would also bring him to the reunions so that he could stay close with our side of his family. Stef was a nerdy kind of dude, while I was a bit of a savage at the time. He liked hearing my stories of how I dogged women out, how I’d fuck their throats and finger their assholes and stroke them deep, leaving them glistening and sticky with my cum and broken hearts. We also vibed eryaman escort about video games; both of us liked Metal Gear Solid and Tekken.
Joy and my dad didn’t care much for each other but they kept it cordial for Stef. Joy was one of those type-A helicopter moms who kept her son on a tight leash. Last I heard she worked for Microsoft or some shit, and had never gotten married though my cousins who lived in Indiana said she was stuck up and never interacted with them.
She was also my type. Was probably one of the reasons why I even have a type.
At 44 she was only about 5 years older than my mom was at the time. She had big sexy black mom vibes, the smoothest mahogany skin and trimmed her dark brown hair in a cute little bob. Joy was curvy as fuck, with heavy, soft titties and a big, round ass that wobbled when she walked. She had curvy hips, big, soft lips, and loved makeup and jewelry. Joy was stylish, always smelled good, and when you weren’t looking and could catch her smiling, she looked like pleasure made flesh. She looked like she had what pops called “good bitch pussy.”
Now it’s important to know that at this time I was not thinking about sex with Joy AT ALL. I’d actually been flirting with a eryaman escort bayan big titty biracial girl with piercings who screamed “bad decisions” that worked at hotel the front desk, and was trying to see what that smelled like. I had no intentions on doing anything with Joy. She was really and truly a fond relative from long ago, who kinda got on my nerves, got me to say “yes ma’am” when I referred to her, and no more.
Shit got crazy on the second day of the reunion. I’d scored some sour diesel from a friend, got myself a sampler of jack and a Coca-Cola and honestly wanted to just get away from my fucking family and get high in the hotel room. I was able to peel away from my fam after dinner and slide back to my room. Stef was going with my dad and his homies to a basketball game, and I walked him back to the room to roll my blunt and help him get ready. Well, surprise to me, Joy decided to tag along too.
We got back to the room and even though Joy was there I started rolling my shit up. Joy looked over at me, put a hand on her hip and said “I’d appreciate it it you didn’t do your drugs in front of my son.”
And at first I was like “yo shut the fuck up” but then I chilled because if Stef cursed my mom out escort eryaman I’d probably beat his ass. So I put the sour up and let Stef and Joy finish getting ready. After a few minutes my dad came to the door to grab Stef. We shadow boxed a little bit and then he’s like “you smell like weed.”
I said, “Yeah that’s because I found some sour.”
He gave me a look and said, “Well don’t smoke that shit in front of Stef. And save me some.”
They left then, but a few seconds had passed before I realized Joy was still over in Stef’s corner of the room, fussing with his stuff.
“I’m gonna check over Stef’s bag,” she said.
This pissed me off for some reason.
“I do steal, Joy,” I said to her. “But I wouldn’t steal from Stef.”
She stopped rummaging through Stef’s bags, walked over, and sat down on his bed.
“Finish rolling your thing,” she said.
“What you saying? You finna smoke with me?”
“Roll your thing up, now.” She was getting impatient, but the way she was nervous was funny to me, sent a thrill through my stomach.
“I can’t believe Joy finna smoke with me. But you ain’t put nothing in on this.”
“Boy please. I can have some of whatever you got.” She gave me a long look, and the fire in her eyes was new, different. And, I can’t lie, a little thrilling. My dick jumped in my pants. “I’m basically your mama.”
We stayed with Joy maybe four or five summers growing up. She asked her to call her “Mama Joy”. The younger kids did, but not me. I gave her a flat look.
“You are *not* my mama.” Then I smiled. “I wouldn’t let my mama smoke with me.”
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