Log in
Intro
I want to Give a shoutout to Tyler for treating me the best he could while
we lived with his terrible mother.
This is the first writings of my life living with Tyler’s Mom. Overtime I will expose more of these hidden Memories of me and the rest of this family. This specific collection of stories will skip around a lot due to some memory Loss of the events that took Place in Tylers Moms Home, who we will also call "Tiny". For me, Ebony, This story begins at age 18 and ends at age 20.
Disclaimer I do not claim to be a amazing writer... There will be errors but please have patience and enjoy my growth in writing erotica.
This is the story of Living with Tylers Mom, A Story inspired by real life events. I hopeyou enjoy!!
- EB
## The Subtle Beginning
Atlanta had been home for two years, but it never felt like it. At 18, I was completely alone. School was out, and I was more lost than ever. Moving to Atlanta was the single worst decision of my life. I could taste the racism in the air, see the cliques forming on every corner, and feel the weight of familial expectations crushing me. I was so over it all. My mother had moved away after my father abandoned us here. Tyler and I were both from Chicago, the beautiful, windy city that existed now only in our memories. I think that shared past was the only real thing we ever had.
Senior year was the absolute lowest point. I got kicked out of my home over bills that were forgotten, while a divorce simmered. My life was frozen. I had no idea where I’d live or how I’d survive. Then, an opportunity landed in my lap. Tyler’s mom, Tiny, offered to let me stay with them, as long as I handled the chores. I was so grateful, I would have done anything. My duties included driving people to practice, cleaning, cooking when Tiny was out, and whatever else the queen of the house demanded.
The house was full, loud, and perpetually dirty. There was me, Tyler (my same age), his mom Tiny, his four sisters—three of whom were 18-year-old triplets, and one older sister around 26. There was no father, just a rotation of Tiny's boyfriends. I didn’t see it at first, but the family dynamic should have screamed one thing: Tyler was a mama’s boy. Now, there’s nothing wrong with loving your mother, but let’s just say Tiny’s love for her son was… intense.
Tyler was tall and skinny, a basketball player who wasn’t actually any good. Maybe some muscle would have helped, but he never built any. He was trash at school, trash on the court, and completely lacking determination, yet his entire world revolved around basketball. And his mother filled his head with dreams—dreams of a full-ride to a good school, of becoming a star. It was pure delusion. The one thing Tyler did have going for him was his body. A nice, large third leg and a round, juicy ass that I adored. I’m an ass-addict, honestly. Most people don’t expect that from a girl, but it lets me fly under the radar.
Living with my boyfriend under his mother’s roof was a constant tease. We had sex, of course, but in a house that crowded, you never knew who might be listening… or watching.
On this particular day, Tyler had a basketball game. It must have been through some community league because he couldn’t even make it as a walk-on for a university team. By then, I was fully settled into the family’s routine. Since it was game day and everyone was home, we all got ready to go in the morning. For breakfast, I whipped up something quick: eggs, bacon, and toast.
The triplet sisters came down first. They were a handful, all three strikingly beautiful. The youngest triplet was slim but thick in all the right places. Her booty wasn’t huge, but it had a perfect, perky shape that stuck out. I often fantasized about burying my face in it, but that was just a dream. I made sure to offer her some eggs, knowing she tended to fart a lot around me. I was just hoping the eggs would add a little extra… aroma to the mix.
Tyler didn’t eat any breakfast. He was too focused on “saving himself” for after the game, as if his performance hinged on an empty stomach. So the rest of the eggs went to his mother.
Tiny came stomping down the stairs like a storm rolling in. The sound alone made you brace — like a linebacker was rounding the corner. And then she appeared:5’9”, Puerto Rican, thick in every way that mattered, a BBW built for worship. Early 40s, light-skinned, with a face that could’ve been T.I.’s wife’s long-lost twin. And her ass? Monumental. The kind of backside that explained why every child she’d birthed came out with a shelf so thick it could hold a textbook.
She walked into the kitchen like she owned the air, grabbed two slices of bread, six strips of bacon, and scraped every last egg from the pan. Then, without hesitation, made herself four egg sandwiches — stacked high, wrapped in foil, ready to go. She wasn’t just eating. She was fueling up.
I’d made the eggs hoping the youngest triplet would get gassy.I didn’t realize I’d just armed a biological weapon.
We piled into the car. Tyler drove. Tiny took shotgun. I sat directly behind her, one of the triplets squeezed in beside me, the others crammed in the back. The engine roared to life. An hour-long drive to the game stretched ahead of us.
Fifteen minutes in, it started.
A slow, creeping stench.Like sewage pipes had ruptured under the highway.
I flared my nostrils — *Was that outside?*No.It was inside.And it was getting stronger.
My nose wrinkled. My throat tightened.This wasn’t just a fart. This was a declaration of war.
“EWWW! DID YOU FART?” one of the triplets shrieked from the back.
Tiny didn’t even turn around.“Yeah, I did,” she said, chewing. “Now shut the fuck up.”Silence.Then — another one.*Pfffttttt…*Low. Wet. Unapologetic.Like a tire deflating in a swamp.
I could feel the heat of it through the seat.My eyes watered.The sister beside me covered her nose.Tyler laughed like it was normal.But me?I was turned on.\*Deeply.Because I knew what those eggs had done.And I knew this was only the beginning.One hour in a sealed car.With a woman who ate like a linebacker and gassed like a dragon.And me — the only one who saw it coming.The only one who wanted it but not originally from her.
I want to Give a shoutout to Tyler for treating me the best he could while
we lived with his terrible mother.
This is the first writings of my life living with Tyler’s Mom. Overtime I will expose more of these hidden Memories of me and the rest of this family. This specific collection of stories will skip around a lot due to some memory Loss of the events that took Place in Tylers Moms Home, who we will also call "Tiny". For me, Ebony, This story begins at age 18 and ends at age 20.
Disclaimer I do not claim to be a amazing writer... There will be errors but please have patience and enjoy my growth in writing erotica.
This is the story of Living with Tylers Mom, A Story inspired by real life events. I hopeyou enjoy!!
- EB
## The Subtle Beginning
Atlanta had been home for two years, but it never felt like it. At 18, I was completely alone. School was out, and I was more lost than ever. Moving to Atlanta was the single worst decision of my life. I could taste the racism in the air, see the cliques forming on every corner, and feel the weight of familial expectations crushing me. I was so over it all. My mother had moved away after my father abandoned us here. Tyler and I were both from Chicago, the beautiful, windy city that existed now only in our memories. I think that shared past was the only real thing we ever had.
Senior year was the absolute lowest point. I got kicked out of my home over bills that were forgotten, while a divorce simmered. My life was frozen. I had no idea where I’d live or how I’d survive. Then, an opportunity landed in my lap. Tyler’s mom, Tiny, offered to let me stay with them, as long as I handled the chores. I was so grateful, I would have done anything. My duties included driving people to practice, cleaning, cooking when Tiny was out, and whatever else the queen of the house demanded.
The house was full, loud, and perpetually dirty. There was me, Tyler (my same age), his mom Tiny, his four sisters—three of whom were 18-year-old triplets, and one older sister around 26. There was no father, just a rotation of Tiny's boyfriends. I didn’t see it at first, but the family dynamic should have screamed one thing: Tyler was a mama’s boy. Now, there’s nothing wrong with loving your mother, but let’s just say Tiny’s love for her son was… intense.
Tyler was tall and skinny, a basketball player who wasn’t actually any good. Maybe some muscle would have helped, but he never built any. He was trash at school, trash on the court, and completely lacking determination, yet his entire world revolved around basketball. And his mother filled his head with dreams—dreams of a full-ride to a good school, of becoming a star. It was pure delusion. The one thing Tyler did have going for him was his body. A nice, large third leg and a round, juicy ass that I adored. I’m an ass-addict, honestly. Most people don’t expect that from a girl, but it lets me fly under the radar.
Living with my boyfriend under his mother’s roof was a constant tease. We had sex, of course, but in a house that crowded, you never knew who might be listening… or watching.
On this particular day, Tyler had a basketball game. It must have been through some community league because he couldn’t even make it as a walk-on for a university team. By then, I was fully settled into the family’s routine. Since it was game day and everyone was home, we all got ready to go in the morning. For breakfast, I whipped up something quick: eggs, bacon, and toast.
The triplet sisters came down first. They were a handful, all three strikingly beautiful. The youngest triplet was slim but thick in all the right places. Her booty wasn’t huge, but it had a perfect, perky shape that stuck out. I often fantasized about burying my face in it, but that was just a dream. I made sure to offer her some eggs, knowing she tended to fart a lot around me. I was just hoping the eggs would add a little extra… aroma to the mix.
Tyler didn’t eat any breakfast. He was too focused on “saving himself” for after the game, as if his performance hinged on an empty stomach. So the rest of the eggs went to his mother.
Tiny came stomping down the stairs like a storm rolling in. The sound alone made you brace — like a linebacker was rounding the corner. And then she appeared:5’9”, Puerto Rican, thick in every way that mattered, a BBW built for worship. Early 40s, light-skinned, with a face that could’ve been T.I.’s wife’s long-lost twin. And her ass? Monumental. The kind of backside that explained why every child she’d birthed came out with a shelf so thick it could hold a textbook.
She walked into the kitchen like she owned the air, grabbed two slices of bread, six strips of bacon, and scraped every last egg from the pan. Then, without hesitation, made herself four egg sandwiches — stacked high, wrapped in foil, ready to go. She wasn’t just eating. She was fueling up.
I’d made the eggs hoping the youngest triplet would get gassy.I didn’t realize I’d just armed a biological weapon.
We piled into the car. Tyler drove. Tiny took shotgun. I sat directly behind her, one of the triplets squeezed in beside me, the others crammed in the back. The engine roared to life. An hour-long drive to the game stretched ahead of us.
Fifteen minutes in, it started.
A slow, creeping stench.Like sewage pipes had ruptured under the highway.
I flared my nostrils — *Was that outside?*No.It was inside.And it was getting stronger.
My nose wrinkled. My throat tightened.This wasn’t just a fart. This was a declaration of war.
“EWWW! DID YOU FART?” one of the triplets shrieked from the back.
Tiny didn’t even turn around.“Yeah, I did,” she said, chewing. “Now shut the fuck up.”Silence.Then — another one.*Pfffttttt…*Low. Wet. Unapologetic.Like a tire deflating in a swamp.
I could feel the heat of it through the seat.My eyes watered.The sister beside me covered her nose.Tyler laughed like it was normal.But me?I was turned on.\*Deeply.Because I knew what those eggs had done.And I knew this was only the beginning.One hour in a sealed car.With a woman who ate like a linebacker and gassed like a dragon.And me — the only one who saw it coming.The only one who wanted it but not originally from her.
