# Fang's Mom Has It Going On

Title: Fang's Mom Has It Going On
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Samantha, Ripley
Rating: NSFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: SurpriseVisitor
Summary: A few days after drunkenly kissing Fang's mom at a party, she invites him over for a talk.
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The taxi’s engine sputters to life and sets off down the road, and I’m left looking at the entrance to Fang’s house. Normally I wouldn’t be so apprehensive, but Ripley, her dad’s threat still echoed in my mind.
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“I don't ever want to see you anywhere near this house again,” he said, before throwing me on my ass out of his house. Granted, it was entirely justified, seeing as I kissed his wife in front of him moments before in a drunken spur of passion that was meant for my girlfriend, who happens to look a lot like her mother.
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Fang took the incident rather well after the initial shock wore off. She’s made it very clear that I won’t be allowed to forget that I kissed her mom while drunk, constantly teasing me and bringing up ‘older women’ in conversation. She also made it very clear that I’m not allowed near alcohol anymore unless I’m handcuffed to someone more responsible.
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It was a Saturday afternoon, and I’d usually be lazing around playing video games or hanging out with Fang around this time, but someone called me earlier in the morning. It was Fang’s mom, Samantha, inviting me over for a ‘relaxing’ talk. The idea of being confronted with either of Fang’s parents terrified me to no end, but the consequences of ignoring it would definitely be worse.
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I swallow my fear and walk up to the door, raising a fist to it. Before I can start knocking, the door swings open. The little blond ptero woman I had accidentally kissed almost a week prior is front and center, looking delighted.
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“Oh, Anon! Please, come in!” Her cheery voice relaxes me partially, and the giggle she makes when I step inside soothes me the rest of the way. Maybe I’m not gonna die today. “Ripley, dear. We have a guest.” Oh, right, he’s here too. Maybe I’m gonna die today.
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We step into the living room, and I lock eyes with Ripley, sitting in his signature chair, his expression completely unreadable. He doesn’t greet me, or speak at all, staring a hole straight through my skull.
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“Have a seat, we have tea and cookies if you’d like.” I lower myself onto the couch as far away from Ripley as I can manage, wary of the patriarch’s gaze. I reach over for a cookie, but my appetite disappears midway. Samantha sits down on the other side of the couch, forcing Ripley into my vision when she starts into some basic small talk. Apparently, Naser is out with Naomi, Fang is with Trish and Reed, and neither of them will be here for a good while. Ripley remains silent the entire time, an unwavering stare of judgement upon me, searching for weakness.
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“I suppose I should get to the point eventually,” Samantha says, excitement creeping into her otherwise motherly voice. “Anon sweetie, do you think you would be interested in swinging with us?” Uh… what? Ripley’s gaze intensifies, filling me with panic. Swinging, Ripley, don’t panic… golfing, she’s talking about golf. Does she even play golf? Whatever.
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“Uh, yeah, sure…” I respond. Ripley lets out a long breath, but otherwise stays motionless. Samantha almost leaps out of her seat, throwing a glance to her husband.
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“See, I told you he’d say yes,” she beams. He grunts an acknowledgement, but nothing more. What did I just agree to? Some sort of male bonding experience over golf? Samantha looks ecstatic, and Ripley isn’t threatening me, so I must have done something right. “So, what do you think? Do you want to be the bread, or the meat?”
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My knowledge of golfing terms was already incredibly small, but this made it feel like I had none at all to begin with. Come on, think. Ripley and Samantha, sandwiches, golf… a sandwich has two pieces of bread. Would that be them? What does this have to do with golf?
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“Uh, meat?” Samantha’s smile falters, curving downwards into concern and… disappointment? Ripley, on the other hand, decides to finally show emotion with a soft, menacing chuckle.
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“Your funeral,” he says simply. Sweet Raptor Jesus, what have I agreed to?
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“Now, dear, it’s his choice… interesting as it is.”
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“Could just kill him now, make it easy on all of us.”
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“Oh, hush, it won’t be that bad. Probably. You think we have time?” Ripley glances at his watch, studying it for a few seconds.
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“Maybe.”
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“Perfect. Let’s get started, then.” What, are we going golfing now?
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Samantha stands up and twirls over in front of me, her green blouse and pink apron flowing around her legs as she spins. Cute. I lean forward, about to push myself off the couch when Samantha’s knees press into it. She places her hands on my shoulders and pushes me back into the cushion, leaning over me. Her predatory yellow eyes strike fear into me.
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“Wha-!” I’m cut off by Samantha pressing her lips against mine. Her long ptero-tongue flicks against my lips, a polite request whose denial would certainly be ignored if this continues. I grab her shoulders, fully intending to throw her off of me, and then remember Ripley is sitting ten feet away and would kill me for manhandling his wife. I push against her as gently as I can manage while still getting the point across, and she pulls away from me, cocking her head in confusion.
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“Th-this isn’t golf!” I sputter. Samantha looks at me like I’m suffering from a head injury, and Ripley bursts into laughter, the most emotive I’ve ever heard the stern family-head, grabbing both of our attentions. He doubles over in his chair, wheezing helplessly and banging his fist against an armrest as breath after breath is forcibly turned into laughter at my expense. As his laughter tapes off, Samantha turns back to me.
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“Honey, do you know what swinging means?” Samantha asks with complete sincerity, although it does little to relieve my embarrassment.
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“It’s… not golf, is it?” I ask hesitantly, already knowing the answer. Ripley breaks into another fit of strained chuckling, and I do my best to ignore him.
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“No, honey. It’s sex,” she says, not a hint of condescension in her voice. How do I keep getting myself into this deep of shit?
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“There’s no way Fang is okay with this. I almost got butchered for accidentally kissing you.”
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“Hmm. Alright, I’ll ask her!” Samantha climbs off of me, grabbing her phone and running off into the kitchen, leaving me with a still-giggling Ripley. I dare to glance over at him, a maniacal smile plastered onto his face.
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“‘Meat?’” he mocks, busting another gut from laughter. Meat? Bread? Sex?
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FUCK. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck holy shit I am so fucking stupid I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut oh sweet Raptor Jesus no this cannot be happening to me how in the sweet blue fuck do I unfuck this before I get literally fucked.
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“Good news, she said yes!” Samantha cheers as she returns from the kitchen, shocking me out of my existential crisis. Really? I speak up before she can clamber onto me again.
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“Wait, wait, uh, I…” What’s a nice way to word ‘don’t want to have my ass destroyed by someone over twice my age’?
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“Don’t want to be the meat? I didn’t think so. Don’t worry honey, I’ll do it. It’s what I wanted to do anyway,” Samantha reassures me. “Now, let’s try this again.” Samantha retakes her place on top of me, grabbing my head and stroking my cheeks with her thumbs, our lips inches apart. If Fang says it’s okay...
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I close the distance, kissing Fang’s mom for the second time this week, which is two times more than I ever thought I would. This is really nice too. I should try this with Fang. Before I can ponder how the mouth-snout interfacing would work, she breaks away, grabbing my hand and pulling on it. I rise from the couch, and she beckons Ripley over with a finger, then drags me into the master bedroom.
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-it’s greentext time fuck you i’m not writing all this shit out-
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>roughly pushed onto the bed by samantha
>she climbs on top of me, licking her lips with pure lust in her eyes
>fucking hell how does ripley contain this beast
>she wastes no time giving me a proper introduction to her tongue
>it’s so fucking long and dextrous, it’s practically running laps around mine
>hear a smack, she somehow giggles even with her tongue in my mouth
>looks like ripley’s helping himself to the goods back there
>don’t make eye contact, pay attention to the horny ptero milf currently eating your face
>she pulls away with a little pop, then reaches behind her
>her pink apron comes loose, falling onto me
>her blouse stretches, pulled taut around her shoulders
>she throws a smug glance backwards, then holds her arms out straight
>the entire thing flies off in a single motion, hitting the opposite wall
>what i expected to be normal, modest underwear was actually over-indulgent, lacy lingerie, a brilliant white against her pale blue feathers
>another smack and giggle for the lawman laying down the law on his wife’s backside
>i’m not letting him have all the fun
>get a handful of mom titties, drawing her attention back to me
>get another mouthful of tongue, at least this time i’m ready and able to fight back
>caress her breasts, giggles start to be replaced with moans
>take a peek behind, see lace panties slipping down her legs
>oh no you don’t
>reach around, fumbling with the foul contraption imprisoning my prize
>raptor jesus smiles upon me, it unclasps
>oh what beautiful blue boobies you have, mrs. aron
>she grabs my head, pulling me straight into her chest
>don’t mind if i do
>wrap my arms around her for leverage, shaking my head around with my tongue out like a lunatic
>she lightly smacks me on the head
>’Discipline, honey! Mind your manners.’
>of course, i’m a gentleman afterall
>gently take a breast into my mouth, suckling on the nipple, eliciting a shudder and moan
>which is outdone by a longer, much more involved moan immediately afterwards
>no fair, showoff
>’Alright, that’s enough appetizers.’
>she sits down right on my crotch, shifting her hips just a bit to tease my aching boner
>’Be a dear, Ripley?’
>he digs into a drawer, retrieving a bottle and box, tossing the box at samantha
>i hear a belt unbuckle
>no way are you getting first dibs
>before i can reach down to start fiddling with my jeans, samantha’s already undone the button and is yanking them down
>her eyes widen, voicing a drawn out ‘mmmm’ and glancing at ripley
>he just grunts angrily
>i hear pants drop, don’t look, don’t look, do not look
>samantha smothers me with her chest, thank you samantha
>her hips and legs shift backwards, she settles, and something warm and wet presses against my cock
>a pair of fingers deftly unrolls something cold and rubbery onto my dick, then angles it upwards
>houston, we have liftoff
>that first jolt of pleasure hits me, perfect in all ways
>before i can begin, samantha puts a finger to my lips
>’Just a second, honey.’
>i dare not look at what ripley is doing back there
>there’s no way there’s space in this thing for two, right?
>samantha wiggles her butt and giggles at my moan as he assumes the position
>ripley leans forward and she braces herself, closing her eyes and gripping the sheets
>good god this is taking forever, what the hell is he doing
>he slowly thrusts forward, and something long and hard puts pressure on my long and hard something
>holy shit
>i am double penetrating a married woman - who’s also my girlfriends mom - with her husband
>before i can spend more time contemplating how fucking bizarre this is, samantha shifts backwards, fuzzing my mind and reminding me i am balls deep in a beautiful dino chick
>she sighs in relief and coaxes us into action
>part of me wants to slam on the gas and demolish this ptero pussy, but...
>ripley gave me the best seat in the house, the least i could do is match his speed
>it could’ve been me with something stuck up my ass, after all
>i start slow, and soon enough samantha’s grunts and sighs turn to moans
>i really didn’t expect to have this extra mass pressing against mine, but it could be worse
>samantha relaxes, falling onto me and planting kisses on my face and neck
>i speed up, and ripley speeds up with me
>or maybe the other way around, who’s keeping track
>samantha’s moaning right into my ear all sorts of crass and improper things
>even with the condom, the sensation is incredible
>and whatever ripley’s doing has nothing to do with it
>we speed up further, something almost resembling a rhythm forms
>the plaps of flesh against flesh are drowned out by samantha’s impassioned screams
>good thing fang and naser aren’t here
>one of these screams is followed by a powerful clench in her desirables
>sweet fucking biscuits that’s good, even ripley seems caught off guard
>i’m reaching my limit, time to go all out
>i speed up one last time, grab a tit with each hand and plant my lips on her neck, sucking hard on it
>ripley matches me and we achieve perfect synchronization
>samantha screams in ecstasy, one last squeeze sending me over the edge
>the rhythm collapses, my only desire is to get as deep as i can
>i blank out, focusing only on the echoing signals of pleasure
>as my vision slowly returns, i hear the big man get his too
>samantha slides off of me and ripley collapses onto his side behind her
>’Told you he’d be good’
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--Two Days Later--
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“Hey Anon!” Fang calls from behind me. I slow my pace down, and she catches up with me, linking her arm with mine.
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“Hey Fang,” I respond, blushing slightly at the physical contact. Still not used to it, I guess. I push against the front doors, finally exiting the school after a tortuous Monday.
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“So, kind of a weird question, but were you at my house on Saturday?” They look at me with a smile, but their eyes are intense.
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“Uhh, yeah?” Why are they acting like they don’t know?
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“Ah, okay. See, I got this weeeeeird call from my mom on Saturday. You know anything about that?” Why are they being so… indirect?
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“Yeah…?” Their eyes narrow, smile faltering.
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“And what did my mom say about that call?” Their voice lowers. Am I in danger?
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“That you were, um… okay with it?” They halt, turning their body to me and staring straight into my soul.
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“Okay with what?” They say, voice terrifyingly level. Unwittingly, I had been dragged off-course and am now in front of Naser’s car, engine humming with Naser and Naomi in the front seats.
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“Um, I…” Is this a prank? Am I being played? Have I shifted into a timeline where I did something wrong? Fang places their hands on my shoulders and stretches up, whispering in my ear.
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“Anon. Did you have sex with my mom?” Cold fury is in their voice. They stay completely still, awaiting my answer. I’m a dead man walking, aren’t I?
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I slowly nod, unable to speak.
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“Get in the car, Anon.” Fang yanks open one of the rear doors, and I nervously pack myself into a seat. They walk around into the other side, situating themselves in their own seat.
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The NasCar rolls out of its parking spot and roars off towards Fang’s house. The ride is completely silent aside from the sounds of the car and the road. Not even Naser - ever-worrying as he is - is willing to touch the situation, tenser than the tautest guitar strings. I could feel the Grim Reaper hovering behind me, scythe pulled back in anticipation.
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We pull into Fang’s driveway and file out of the car. Fang links her arm with mine again, but it’s not out of affection this time. It probably wasn’t last time either, now that I think about it. We follow Naser and Naomi inside, and Fang yanks us towards the kitchen.
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Samantha looks up from a flowing sink, dish and sponge in hand. Her motherly grin twitches, threatening to crumble under Fang’s death glare. Her normal greeting goes unspoken, enraptured into a staring contest with her daughter. She loses, a rare frown stealing her smile as she turns away, shutting off the sink and taking off a pair of yellow gloves.
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“Please, not out here. Come with me,” she pleads, walking off. Fang pulls me along, following her into the master bedroom. You know, incest isn’t really my thing, but it’s preferable to having my entrails decorating the walls, so I guess I’ll hold out hope for that.
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Fang kicks the door shut, not once taking their eyes off their mother. Samantha leans against the headboard, looking to the floor and sighing.
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“Why?” Fang asks without a shred of sympathy. What the fuck is going on? The two of them look at me like I just said something. “She lied to you, fucktard. I never agreed to anything.” Oh. Shit. Fang turns back to staring daggers at their mom.
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“Fang… I know you and Ripley don’t get along too well, but I do love him. He’s my husband as much as he is your father. He works a difficult job, and I don’t want to stress him any further. And as much as I love him, it’s been… difficult… lately. His passion that once matched mine had been waning for years, while mine remained. I’ve tried everything from gentle pushing to blunt asking, anything to help him regain that fire. Nothing worked.” Fang scowls, baring their teeth, but remains silent.
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“I’m sure you know Anon kissing me last week was an accident. After your father tossed him out, our little party fizzled out. I was content to go to sleep that night the same as I had been for years now. Without getting into too much detail, he made it very clear that he had regained some of his passion. I felt like a newlywed again. I was delighted beyond words. And I was just as distraught when I learned it was all but gone just a few days later.”
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“Anon was the key. Something to compete against. Someone to butt heads with to secure their mate. I asked myself if I should really use your suitor to help fix my own problems hundreds of times. I hoped things would go my way, and that I wouldn’t need to face the option of lying. That was too hopeful, but I made up my mind.”
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“I’m sorry, Fang. I betrayed your trust. Something a parent should never do to their own child. I’ve failed in my duty as a mother.” Fang is tensed, fists clenched and teeth grit. I see their face twitch, and they let out a shaky breath.
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“Anon, excuse us for a second,” Fang requests. I step out of the room and lean back against the wall. I wait with bated breath for the screaming to start, yet I hear nothing through the door. I fight the urge to press my ear against the door and continue waiting. I try to swallow my fear, but I know all that rage has to go somewhere. If it’s not her, it’s going to be me, isn’t it? How good would this wall look painted red?
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Minutes pass, and the door slowly opens. Fang emerges first, wiping their puffy eyes and sighing heavily. They walk right in front of me, looking me in the eye. They raise their arms, planting their hands on my shoulders. Their hands slide over to my neck, and ten sharp, black claws are suddenly pointed straight at my most vital lifelines. They lightly press, threatening to break the skin, holding this position. Fang stares through me, vengeance at hand. Man, I sure am stupid.
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“You are one of the dumbest boys I have ever met.” No argument there. The pressure on my neck fades, and those hands crawl up around my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks.
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“If you were any other boy on the planet, I would’ve torn out your jugulars and used them as guitar strings.” They press their head against my shoulder. “Maybe one of these days, you’ll do something so stupid that I’ll have to.”
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“But… not today?” I ask.
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“No… not today. You’re not off the hook though.” Uh oh. “Mom told me something interesting about you.” She hooks her arm into mine again, yanking me off the wall as she starts walking.
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“My room. Now.”