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Poker Night with Ma

Hi again! Another poker incest story! No homo, LoL, I promise. Also, this time I’d like to give a shout out to mopmopmop. Their story “Poker Mom” is what inspired this story. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! Please leave comments and votes, so I know how I’m doing! Also, feel free to check out my first series Poker Night with Sis, if you like this sort of story! All ages in my story are over 18. I know some of you hate to read it that but Nyah!

Don’t get me wrong. I love my Ma, but I’ve only lived alone for a short time and like spending my spare time with privacy. I know I only use it to look at porn and play video games all day, but what can I say, I’m a horny guy with needs. What I don’t need is to blow a weekend hanging with my Ma. Especially after just getting my freedom from under her roof. But what can I say? Sorry Ma, but I have plans to beat off this weekend. Ha.. Knowing my Ma she’d probably tell me to just jerk it off already and come over. That’s just how she is. She’s not the deception type. She puts it to everyone hard but true. People put up with it though, because she’s good at what she does. She sells. How do you make a good saleswoman from a straight-shooter who won’t deceive you into buying something? Her tits and legs probably help, but I like to think it’s because people just know she’s brutally honest. She’ll let you know when you’re over paying, but then she’ll remind you that it’ll make the Mrs. back home happy so it’s almost better to over pay. Hell, she’s selling sparkling shiny rocks for thousands of dollars. A rock’s a rock, but that’s just not how women think.

So anyway, dad takes off after I turn 18 and get my own place for college, and now she’s lonely. So, I lose my weekend. I try the usual excuses. I’m so busy. Cars only doing so so. The weather’s not suppose to be so good. I hear there’s a lot of snow coming. Well, fuck me, but the last one wasn’t bull shit, and here we are snowed in on day 3. College canceled and I’m stuck at my old home with Ma. And you’d think after years of having a young adult male living with you, that she’d have learned to wear some clothing around the house. I know we’ve both been living alone, but running from the laundry room to her bathroom topless because she forgot a towel was a bit much. Then walking around in nothing but that towel wasn’t much better. Aren’t I considered a guest at this point in life?

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she’d probably say. Well, it doesn’t help when I’m deprived for sexual relief days on end. I have a tendency to masturbate at least 4 to 8 times a day, and 0 in nearly 3 days is getting to me. I may not have an impressive manhood, but I have a crazy libido. I can literally go back to back almost all day.. but I’ve learned the hard way that 12 is too many. Not being able to relieve yourself because it hurts to be hard is just no fun. And, not relieving myself is just not an option. I’m not one of those freaks with endless gallons of cum in his balls or anything like that, but if you’ve ever seen 40 Days and 40 Nights, then you’ll know what I mean when I say my senses start freaking out. Unlike the guy from the movie, I can’t go more than 2 days before everything I touch just starts to feel good. The texture of my denim jeans sends shivers through me. The texture of the wall or the carpet. Every little thing sets me off. Cold showers? I wish. Maybe my ancestors were Eskimos, because my manhood couldn’t give a shit if it’s in ice water. You’d think physics would kick in or something, but somehow that blood keeps flowing.

Sorry, I tend to get side tracked, and you’ve probably heard enough about my dick. So, after two days of shooting the shit, catching up, and watching old movies on netflix, my Ma decides she wants to try something new.

“I’m getting bored. Can we play something?” she asked.

“I didn’t think you had any video games?”

“No no, god, those aren’t the only kind of games you know. I don’t want to play something for kids. I want to play something mature like poker,” she said as she fiddled with a couch pillow.

“Sweet. You don’t stand a chance, but I do love poker.”

She had a nice little poker set. Some knock off clay chips, and some nice cards with fancy covers. I set us up at the kitchen table, making sure we had an array of colorful chips worth easy to remember values, while she poured us some drinks and grabbed us a bowl of pretzels. I’m not sure what she was drinking, but it was Dr. Pepper for me. No booze at home for the “boy” under 21.

Booze or not, she didn’t stand a chance. We played a couple of games, and I quickly took all her chips again and again. I’m glad she was willing to keep playing despite losing so badly. I guess I could have thrown her a bone, but I’m a competitive show off and what boy doesn’t want to show off for his Ma? OK, maybe it shouldn’t be at her expense, but this was at least taking my mind off of sex.

“Well, I’m getting bored,” she said as I was re separating out the chips.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” I thought. Not that I didn’t see it coming.

“How about, winner gets to ask the loser truth or dare?”

“OoooK.” I replied as I shuffled the deck. I didn’t really give a shit if it meant we could keep playing. Not sure what I’d ask, but whatever.

I folded my first hand, not thinking anything of the low blinds at this point, when Ma said, “OK, truth or dare?”

“Huh? I thought we were going to do that after losing all the chips?”

She waved her hands and shook her head, “That would take way too long. Truth or dare.”

“Alright. Truth. What would you like to know Ma?” I expected something silly, or for her to call me out on something I did in the past and denied.

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