Tura Brasi (formerly known as Luca Satana) puts the incest erotica in Legion of Filth, so if this happens to be your taboo of choice, you can’t go wrong with a Luca Satana/Tura Brasi title. Best sellers have been The Implausibly Cruel Life Of Tall Thin Peter Flynn, A Mother-Son Getaway Gone Wrong, Taking Care Of Grandma, Aunt Sarah’s Answer To Everything, In Addition To Everything Else Going On In My Life Now I Have To Get My Mom Pregnant Too!, Oggy Gobbins Comes Alive and of course Luca’s Naughty Bits series.
Luca Satana/Tura Brasi Series Starting 2017-2019
Jordan Masse is a handsome freshly turned 18-year-old young man with dark eyes and dark hair, medium height and rather thin build. In almost every way, Jordan is a very normal young man. However, as of late, he’s developed a bit of a problem. He is absolutely and utterly obsessed with and eternally turned on by his crazy sexy grandma. Harriet Delhomme is a very beautiful 59-year-old woman with dark eyes and auburn hair, short and somewhat shapely. Given Jordan’s growing problem, the last few times his grandma has come to visit, he’s either hid away in his room pretending to be sick or gone out pretending to be too busy to see her. However, he can’t go on doing this. After all, he really loves his grandma and can’t stand the idea of her thinking otherwise.
So, tonight, Jordan has decided to face his fears. He’s decided to go to his grandma’s room and come clean, about everything. Why he’s been avoiding her for the last several months. And who knows, once he finally tells her, maybe they’ll both have a good laugh about it. Perhaps she’ll even have a solution. Perhaps something he hasn’t even thought about. Or, perhaps her solution will be to do exactly what he’s been thinking about doing to her, nonstop, for the last several months. Perhaps then he can finally get it all out of his system. Or, perhaps, it could make his problem much much worse.
Detective Max Reilly is on his way out, while his daughter Detective Chickadee Reilly is on her way in, but before each one can settle into their new positions, they have to learn to work together, and fuck together, since fucking, as I’m sure you already know, is always a huge part of every police procedural series, and this one is no different.
Jack and Beatrice are being ridiculous. They know they shouldn’t be doing the things they’re doing but they’re doing them anyway. Beatrice knows, no matter how much she’s craving cum, she shouldn’t be nursing on her grandpa’s cock. And, likewise, Jack knows, in exchange, no matter how much he’s craving mother’s milk, he shouldn’t be nursing on his granddaughter’s mammoth breasts. But that’s exactly what’s happening. It’s madness! And there’s nothing you or I or anybody else in the family can do about it!
My mom is really cool. A really great woman. But she’s unlucky. My father passed when I was pretty young. Since then, my mom’s been mostly single, with a few losers peppered in here and there. Now, my mom is working nights. Third shift. She likes it. Especially the pay raise. But she can’t sleep. She’s always been a light sleeper, but adding the fact that she needs to sleep during the day isn’t helping her sleep. So, after trying a million things, pills, reading, eating, anything to sleep, she’s now looking to me to help her sleep.
Like my mom, my Aunt Lily is really cool. Maybe even cooler, if it weren’t for her trying so hard all the time. My aunt never married. Well, let’s not say never just yet. Who knows, she might get lucky one of these days. But probably not if she continues to pursue weird-ass fuck-heads on the other side of globe or on some other unattainable plane altogether. To me, my aunt’s warped little love affairs are just a microcosm of what’s wrong with her, which is her inability to see what’s right in front of her, to relax, and accept the world as it is, all around her, namely herself, and her own vivid awesomeness. Instead, my aunt puts herself in this endlessly spinning hamster wheel, ever-striving, reaching, wanting, trying, for the ever-elusive more, which, in the end, usually leaves her alone or just plain lonely. And I guess, that’s where I come in.
Wit and Wile Goode were beautiful 18-year-old twin brother and sister, with picturesque dark features, and young and taut bodies. To their knowledge, they were the sole product of their starkly strange 35-year-old mother Willa Goode, who appeared to be the one who gave them their picturesque dark features, as well as their own degree of strangeness. Although Wit and Wile always had an inkling of their mother’s strangeness, they never believed her to be as strange as all their little friends or all their little enemies used to tell them, sometimes in some very not nice ways. However, on this night, this being the eve of their 18th birthday, that was all about to change. Tonight, as the clock struck midnight, they were going to come face to face with the full spectrum of their mother’s strangeness, when she, not unlike she had a thousand nights before, found herself in the throes of yet another acute and aching fiery need to be extinguished, and instead of utilizing this or that device to douse her flames, she planned to use her children, her son Wit, in particular, to finally, and properly, extinguish her acute and aching fiery need, once and for all.
There comes a time in every young man’s life when he meets the perfect young woman and falls in love and asks her to move in with him and she does and everything is absolutely perfect and then his always horny mother, who was incarcerated, finally comes home and the young lovers have no choice but to pimp out the young man’s always horny mother, in order to preserve their perfect, perfect love.
After I turned 18, and then, shortly after, graduated from high school, I was given a mission. Go find mom, wherever she might be, and by any means necessary, if the gods will allow it, convince her to come back home. It took me all of a month to find her. I tracked her down to a log cabin in the woods. There, I came face to face with the woman my mom found, when she left us to go find herself almost a year ago. Apparently, this new woman was a busty nudist free spirit, in almost no way resembling my mom. And I have to say, after the initial shock, I think I very much like this new mom. Very much!
I’m sure my little sister Flora didn’t expect to get away with it forever. You can’t go around stripping and prancing and flashing everyone in the house and not expect there to be repercussions. When she was a little girl, this sort of thing was kind of cute, but now that she was 18, the natives, meaning my dad Fellow and my brother Farmer, were getting more than a little restless, especially when Flora would start flashing her stuff, but then lose her nerve and stop flashing her stuff, with her constant cyclical teasing, sometimes even downright cruel noncommittal exhibitionism. Meanwhile, my dad and my brother were going absolutely bananas, wanting to see more, needing to see more, and more than that, wanting, needing Flora to follow through with even more, something like a quick blow or a quick poke.
That’s what happens when you have a mom like ours.
In contrast to Flora, my mom Felicia always liked to spoil us; my dad, my brother, and in particular, me Forest (not to be confused with that dimwit Forrest Gump, thank you very much – yeah, that went over really well in school), always giving us a not so quick blow or a not so quick poke, whenever we or she pleased, but never with more than one of us at once, which she believed was wrong.
So, all things considered, Flora, with all her noncommittal exhibitionism, probably should have seen this one coming. A new family rule: Whenever Flora flashes one of us, we must, and I mean must, no discussion necessary, fuck her; mouth, pussy, or asshole. Right then and there.
Tommy Pendleton was a very savvy, very put-together 18-year-old young man. Not your typical 18-year-old by any stretch of the imagination. However, this didn’t mean he wasn’t susceptible to the usual slings and arrows of teenage life, as far as the angst and alienation of high school. And it certainly didn’t help when his mother married some old rich fuck from New England and moved Tommy, midway through his senior year, away from all his friends, what little he had, and put him in a completely new environment. Tommy was not happy. And he was pissed. And he didn’t want to do anything the way he did before. He didn’t really have time, anyway. He just got to this school and didn’t know a soul. He wanted to take a completely different approach to basically everything, especially how he got pussy. And when his mother told him for the umpteenth time how sorry she was for uprooting him away from all his friends and everything he ever knew in life and how she would do anything to help ease his transition into his new school and his new life, Tommy finally decided to take his mother up on her offer. And thus, laid the groundwork for what would eventually become The Mother-Fuckers Club.
For years now, it’s just been the way we’ve done things in my family. One family. One bed. I’m sure, on the outside looking in; it must look strange, or even demented. But after living this way, ever since I turned 18 in 1992, until recently, when I turned 38 in 2012, or even in the future, when I turned 58 in 2032, I can’t see living any other way.
When our sex-ed teacher Miss Mayberry, who was one of those younger idealistic-to-a-fault teachers, said there was extra money in the budget this year so she was taking us on a field trip and bringing chaperones who would essentially be divvyed up and assigned to us as sex-ed partners for the night, I thought this was going to be a good thing. And, on an unrelated note, which turned out to be very related, when my mom, who makes very little money working as a teacher’s aide at my high school, said she was working some extra hours this week and thus making a little extra money, I also thought that was a good thing, because ever since I turned 18, a month or two prior, my mom has been promising to get me a car. The thought never occurred to me that my mom’s extra hours were going to come from being one of Miss Mayberry’s chaperones, or, more specifically, one of Miss Mayberry assigned sex-ed partners. Not until, well, the very second my mom showed up at my hotel door.
If you think it’s hot to have a really pretty – and let’s face it – really sexy lesbian mom, then you’re not exactly mistaken. It is hot. However, when she, one day, say, on your 21st birthday, suddenly turns around and wants to bonk you, possibly ten to twenty times more than she wants to bonk your other lesbian mom, perhaps for the novelty of it, who knows, and even insists, at some point, that you also bonk your other lesbian mom, perhaps for the inclusiveness of it, as a family, well, that’s not hot, that’s downright scalding hot. And time-consuming. And, to be honest, not exactly a very pragmatic way to live. Especially when you have your own life to live. I mean, it’s not exactly easy balancing a masters of business administration program, a highly competitive internship, and a fiancée, who is quite high-maintenance in her own right, with two moms, two high-maintenance moms wanting, needing you to bonk them all the time. But, alas, we all have our lot in life, and this one happens to be mine.
My mom and my sister were practical jokers. I wasn’t. At least not until I came up with a real doozy. Probably too big. Ya see, back then; I lived in a nuclear fallout shelter. In our backyard. Ever since I saw that movie The Day After, you know, that 80’s movie where Steve Guttenberg’s face melts off, due to nuclear fallout. That’s where I lived. And that’s where I stayed. While my mom and my sister, basically, stayed in our house and probably sat around making fun of me nonstop. That was, until my real doozy of a practical joke. They came for a visit, down into my humble abode, my underground nuclear fallout shelter, for a my little impromptu 21st birthday party for me, and after we watched all the Ernest Goes To Camps and played Monopoly and Risk two times each, my mom and my sister fell asleep on my makeshift bed. And that’s when it happened. Earthquake, a pretty big one, too, it was California after all. And that’s when it hit me, my real doozy of a practical joke. While my mom and my sister were still coming to, shaken and confused by the earthquake, I said, as somberly as I could, that it had happened. It had finally happened. Nuclear War.
I know it’s not the best way to sow for peace, but it’s certainly not the worst way. And for whatever part I, or more specifically my cock, played in the unlikely alliance, I’m just glad to see my mom and my daughter are getting along.
Maybe Someday We’ll Live In A World Where Moms Don’t Belong To Their Sons But Mom Today Is Not That Day
Hi, I’m Dresden. I’m not extraordinary. I’m just a typical sort of young man, with hopes and dreams, just like anyone else. And believe it or not, I dreamt up something the other day that made me stop and think, truly think about our society. About what might be working, and what might not be working. Like for instance, the whole thing about how when a boy becomes a man, or when he turns 18 – to get legal on you – his mom becomes his. In pretty much every way imaginable. And that’s what I was thinking. Dreaming up. What if that wasn’t the right way to do things? I actually even thought to myself, maybe someday we’ll live in a world where moms don’t belong to their sons. But, alas, today is not that day.
My mom is a very good mom. Caring. Devoted. But, my mom is also a very bad mom. Overly caring. Overly devoted. Case in point; the time she heard about my active, and what I believe to be healthy, sex-life, but my mom believed to be a blooming sex addiction, which she blamed solely on my girlfriend at the time. Shortly after, my mom started nagging me to come back home for a visit, stressing how lonely she was since, well, basically everyone left her, including my dad some years back. So, feeling a little guilty, I acquiesced, and came back for a short visit.
As far as visits go, things were going as normal, and as boring, as ever. However, when I was ready to crash, and headed upstairs, my mom offered me her bed. Admittedly, it was quite an odd offer, but ultimately, I think out of sheer politeness, I accepted.
When I woke up the next morning, well, I couldn’t move. Literally. Well, most of me couldn’t move.
-Oh, did I happen to mention my mom was an anesthesiologist, a good one at that, specializing in localized anesthesia, able to numb basically any part of the body, while not numbing any other part of the body. What I’m trying to say is, well, I was screwed – excuse my language.
I’m not sure exactly what possessed my mom to do it. I guess, at least the way my mom saw it, if she couldn’t convince me to turn my life around, well, she was gonna have to turn it around for me, by, basically, removing me from it.
That’s all wonderful and good – not really, but now that she had me, and I mean had me, as I was completely and utterly incapacitated, and wholly at my mom’s mercy, after the initial panic dissipated, my one single and solitary question was what the holy hell – excuse my language, was my mom going to do to me?
Myron’s painfully cute and cuddly 36-year-old mom Kitty didn’t like to leave the house. So, she didn’t. In fact, she didn’t even like to leave her room. So, for the most part, she didn’t. Nor did she like to dress. So, except for maybe when she was really chilly and didn’t have a choice in the matter, she didn’t. Nor did she ever have the inclination to get something to eat. So, inexplicably, she didn’t. In fact, the only things she liked to do is lie around in bed or on her sofa, maybe take a gander outside, spend exorbitant amounts of time in the shower, then beautify herself, only to lie around some more, and, almost always, in the midst of any of these activities, Kitty would paw her pussy, and lick her fingers while doing so, which seemed to be her only food source. That is, apart from her well-meaning, well-behaved, loyal to a fault 23-year-old son Myron, who worked tirelessly as a traveling medical records collator for a microfilm company, often away for days at a time, during which he was constantly fantasizing about sex, or even having sex, but never ever coming, reminding himself, and maybe even reminding the girl he was with, usually his extremely sweet and extremely married coworker Tammy, he had a hungry mouth to feed at home, never going as far as to tell the girl he was with, usually Tammy, what he actually had, was a hungry mom to feed.
Maybe everyone else in my family has given up on my mom and her obsession with becoming a star, but I’m not gonna. Not ever. How could someone with all her infectious passion and undeniable charisma not reach stardom? I believe in her. And I believe in her dreams. Even some of her wilder dreams. Like, for instance, this latest one, when it became painfully clear that my mom wants to be a (porn) star.
Why’s everybody always ganging up on Mom? That question has filled my mind my whole life. First, when I was still living with my mom and dad. Then, when I was 12, and us kids were forced to go live with our grandma. Then, again, when we were steadily permitted, one by one, to move back in with my mom and dad, with me being the last. I was 18, now. And I was bound and determined, more than ever, to find out. After all, I loved my mom. Probably more than anybody in the world. And I just knew she didn’t deserve always being ganged up on. And I didn’t care what I had to do to prove it.
My best friend Johnny was like, “Hey, it must suck having to sleep on the floor every time you spend the night. Ya know, if you want, you can take my mom’s bed.” I narrowed my eyes, thinking it was just another practical joke in a long line of practical jokes Johnny played on me through the years. So, I was like, “Uh, duh. Sure. Whatever.” And he was like, “No, I’m serious. My mom spent the last 6 out of 7 nights over her new boyfriend’s house, so she’s probably gonna spend the night there tonight, too.” And I was like, “Seriously?” I was surprised. I didn’t think Lucy and her new boyfriend were that serious. And he was like, “Gees, yes. I mean, dude, I’m just thinking of you. I just want you to get some good sleep for once. Instead of sleeping on the floor.” And I was like, “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” And he was like, “Fine. Whatever.” And I was finally like, “Okay. I’ll sleep in your mom’s bed. It’s weird, but I’ll do it.” And he was like, “What’s weird about it? It’s just a bed.” I nodded and got up and headed into Lucy’s room, sealing my fate to what happened next.
Hoot Hannigan has a problem. His daughter Brandy is addicted to him. And not in a good way. Or maybe in a too good way. Depending on how you look at it. Now, Brandy, apart from being addicted to her father, is also a fragile sort, and so it is very important to make her feel like this is okay. It’s important for everyone to make her feel like this is okay, including all the women in Hoot’s life, that’s Hoot’s wife Helena, Hoot’s other daughter Rhiannon, Hoot’s mom Jill, Hoot’s mom’s mom Annabeth, Hoot’s wife’s mom Carmen, Hoot’s eldest sister Sweet, Hoot’s middle sister Birdy, Hoot’s youngest sister Perfect, Hoot’s wife’s sister Gabrielle, Hoot’s wife’s other sister Corsica, and Hoot’s nieces Sarah, Sidney, Melinda, Penelope, and Winter. That’s a lot of women, and a lot of women to carry on this rather challenging charade, the normalizing of a dad addict.
Could it be 19-year-old Leviathan Curtis has finally found something he’s interested in, truly interested in, to the point that the word obsession might apply? At this point, his parents would be happy to find anything their son was interested in. His mom Hannah Curtis, especially. Finding something for her son to be interested in has always been something of a futile enterprise. It’s just too bad for her, or too good for her, depending on how you look at it, what Levi is finally showing an interested in is Mom Driver.
Joe’s mom Kimberly has always had a hard time getting up in the morning. That is, until one morning, when Joe decided to give his mom a boost. To his utter shock and surprise, it worked. And now, Joe believes all a mom needs in the morning is a boost.
Nanette Peters has been thinking about something, a thought that, to her surprise, she wasn’t the only one thinking, and that was she thought she was only sexy if her son, or sons in her case, thought she was sexy. A husband’s thoughts on the subject were a dime a dozen. But, a son’s thoughts, now that was truly something. If a son thought a mom was sexy, now that was true validation. After Nanette’s discovery, though she had no formal training, or education, it wasn’t long before she decided to make this her life’s work. And so, that’s exactly what she did.
Being from the twentieth century, there was a lot of things to get used, none bigger than how hard it was to put a smile on your daughter’s face. When I say that, I mean everyone’s daughter. My concerns, however, are only for my own sweet daughter. My wife Ora. My son Cyl. My wife’s parents Wel and Ari. Dr. Gol. Our friends. And most of all, our daughter Cya. They all looked at me like I was mad. Or just a primitive. With primitive ideals. From several centuries prior.
Okay, to be fair, I guess, growing up, I’d been a little dick to everyone for a long time. So, in a way, I guess, I had it coming. I don’t know. And, now, it was payback time, compliments of Viper, The Black Widow, and Justice; AKA my mom, my aunt, and grandma.
It’s good to get away. That’s what everyone says. But, eventually, you’re gonna have to go back home. Eventually, you’re gonna have to go back with dad. That’s what Steven told his mom Charlene. Over and over again. To. No. Avail.
I don’t exactly remember what happened, or how I agreed to it, but, at the time, it didn’t seem all that unreasonable, and my mom didn’t seem all that unreasonable, or selfish. In fact, at the time, I was happy to do it, very happy. Especially considering everything my mom did for me, with her troubled pregnancy, and all my various ailments along the way. Why shouldn’t I promise every shot to her? After all, she is my mom. And I literally owe her everything. If you ask me, I’m getting off easy. Giving her every shot is a small price to pay, in my opinion. For all her love. And all her commitment. Of course, it doesn’t hurt my mom is an extraordinary cocksucker.
After my mom and dad’s divorce, my mom, my cute-as-a-button irresistible little mom, insisted she needed help learning how to date again. Well, obviously, I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but before I could ask my mom to elaborate, my wife, as was her habit, volunteered me, of all people, to help my mom. I guffawed, like I’d never guffawed before, thinking the whole thing was some bad joke. Then, I realized, holy fuck, they were not joking. Not at all. I gulped.
My first instinct was to tell them both to kindly fuck off. But, then my Mother Theresa-side shined through, and I told myself, why not. Why couldn’t I help my mom learn how to date again?Sure, I was never an avid dater, even when I was single, but, eh, what the fuck. I could do this. However, it wasn’t long before I was telling myself, holy fuck, I think I’m dating my cute-as-a-button irresistible little mom.
I’m not weird. Or bad. Just misunderstood. My mom, and my sister for that matter, both think they know me. But, they don’t. I don’t apply myself because I don’t wanna apply myself. I don’t wanna go to school. Why should I? When all I wanna be is, well, a rocker. And, I’m gonna be a rocker. I am.
But, all I keep hearing are those words, “As long as you’re living under our roof, you will go to school,” which my dad used to holler at me at the top of his lungs, with some real mean pipes, I might add, like Bruce Dickinson pipes, well, maybe not that mean, before my dad up and had a coronary, probably from all that hollering at me at the top of his lungs, or, maybe, more than likely, from all my mom’s mean blowjobs, which I can say, sadly, from experience, now, could definitely kill somebody, or, at least maim them, not unlike a head-on collision with one of my mom’s mammoth ta-tas, which were Guiness Book ta-tas, my mom and my sisters’ both.
So, now, I’m stuck. And, now, to go along with my dad’s ghost hollering at the top its ghostly lungs, everyone and their mother seems to think I have to finish school, even my twisted fuck of an old grandfather, telling my mom if she can’t get me, the heir to some kind of small fortune, under control, he’s gonna pull the rug out from underneath us, financially – what a prick, like it’s my mom or my sister’s fault I don’t wanna go to school.
Regardless, that’s where I am. Thoroughly stuck. And, that’s where my mom is, thinking she has no other choice other than to go to great lengths to get me graduated, including homeschooling me, in her own, well, fucked-up way of homeschooling. Ugh.
And, if you ask me, this is all very unrocker. I mean, Angus Young wouldn’t put up with this bullshit.
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