More from Sage

• Jeanne Catherine Lamonica is Caught at a Strip Club

  January 13, 2026

  Dear Diary,

  I still can’t believe what happened last night. I’ve always had a secret desire to strip, to shake my hips and make men drool. So when I discovered that naughty little club on the outskirts of town that caters to older folks like me, I just had to give it a try.

  I arrived at the club early, my heart racing with excitement and a hint of nervousness. I slipped into the champagne-colored sequined dress that hugged my curves in all the right places and headed backstage. The other women were all ages, shapes, and sizes, but we were all united by our need to let loose and embrace our inner vixens.

  As I took the stage for the first time, I felt a rush of adrenaline. The music pulsed, the lights flashed, and I began to move. My hands trailed down my body as I swayed to the beat, my hips undulating in a sultry rhythm. The men leered and whistled, their eyes devouring every inch of my purple-clad body.

  I lost myself in the moment, dipping and twirling, my dress riding up to reveal my lace panties. I could feel the heat of the stage, the throb of the music in my blood. It was intoxicating, liberating.

  Just as I was hitting my stride, a familiar voice echoed through the club. “Mom?”

  I froze, my eyes scanning the crowd. And then I saw him – Anthony, my son, standing in the doorway with a client of his. The man’s eyes were glued to me, but it was Anthony’s gaze that held mine captive.

  I felt a flood of mixed emotions – shock, embarrassment, and a hint of something else, something dark and forbidden. Anthony had always been a bit of a strange boy, with an intense focus on his work and an unsettling obsession with me. But this… this was beyond anything I could have imagined.

  Anthony approached the stage, his eyes never leaving mine. “Mom, can I have a lap dance?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

  I hesitated, my mind racing. A part of me wanted to say no, to protect both of us from this taboo encounter. But another part, the part that had brought me to this club in the first place, was thrilled by the prospect.

  I nodded, and Anthony led me off the stage and into a private room. The door closed behind us, and suddenly we were alone, the sounds of the club muffled by the thick walls.

  Anthony sat on the couch, his eyes boring into mine. “You look incredible, Mom,” he said, his voice dripping with desire. “I’ve always wanted you.”

  I felt a shiver run down my spine as he reached out and traced a finger along my thigh. “Anthony, we can’t… this is wrong,” I protested, even as my body responded to his touch.

  But he just smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. “Just a little dance, Mom. Let me taste you, feel you against me.”

  I knew I should resist, but I couldn’t. As Anthony pulled me onto his lap, I felt a surge of pleasure mixed with a touch of guilt. His hands roamed my body, kneading my breasts, sliding down to grip my ass.

  “I’ve always dreamed of fucking you, Mom,” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Teaching you everything I know.”

  I gasped as he pushed me up against the wall, his cock hard against my thigh. “Anthony, please… we can’t do this,” I pleaded, even as I rocked against him, my panties soaked with desire.

  But he just grasped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Yes, we can, Mom. We fucking will.”

  And then he was inside me, his cock stretching me, filling me, as he claimed me with a intensity that left me breathless. I wrapped my legs around him, meeting his thrusts, lost in the heat and the passion.

  As we rocked together, I felt a sense of freedom, of release. All the pent-up desires, the secret fantasies, were finally being fulfilled. And despite the guilt, despite the taboo nature of our encounter, I couldn’t deny the pleasure, the excitement, the sheer ecstasy of it all.

  In the end, we collapsed on the couch, panting and satisfied. Anthony stroked my hair, his eyes filled with a deep affection and a hint of something darker.

  “I love you, Mom,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

  “I love you too, son,” I replied, my heart swelling with a mix of pride, shame, and something else, something primal and unspoken.

  As we left the club together, our arms around each other, I couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of our twisted little family. But for now, I was content to bask in the afterglow of our forbidden tryst, to savor the thrill of living out my deepest, darkest desires.

• Jeanne’s Panties

  December 31, 2025

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  The Erotica Empire • Sage

  The scent of her consumed him. He could never get enough. Anthony’s mind raced as he sat at his desk, the pile of reports and papers before him a blur. All he could think about was his mother Jeanne Catherine LaMonica’s undergarments, her silky smooth skin, the tantalizing glimpse of her pale, freckled thighs… He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his eyes drifting closed as he pictured it – her lying on the bed in her bedroom, a delicate lace-trimmed camisole riding up to expose the curve of her hip, the soft pucker of her navel… The faded floral pattern of her cotton panties is barely visible beneath the thin fabric. His heart pounded in his chest, a primal urge coursing through his veins. Anthony had tried to resist; he truly had. But the memories, so vivid and alluring, haunted him. The way she’d smooth the fabric of her skirt, her hands lingering in places that made him shiver with anticipation. The secret glances, the whispered promises, the forbidden touch of her palm against his thigh… He’d spent years denying his desires, burying them deep within the recesses of his mind. But they always resurfaced, more intense with each passing day. The fantasy consumed him, a dark and all-consuming hunger that demanded to be sated. Now, in the safety of his office, he could allow himself the luxury of indulging. His hand crept beneath his suit trousers, fingers brushing against the damp patch that had developed on his boxer briefs. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he envisioned the scent of her, the musky aroma of her arousal mingling with the subtle perfume she wore.

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  His free hand reached out, plucking the neatly folded bundle of fabric from his desk drawer. His mother’s panties, the ones he’d “borrowed” during his last visit home. The delicate lace trim, the soft cotton against his palm – it was almost enough to bring him to the edge. With trembling fingers, Anthony pushed the fabric to his lips, drawn by the intoxicating scent and the forbidden knowledge of what lay beneath. The first tentative suck was electrifying, the taste of her essence mingling with the fabric as he hollowed his cheeks. Then came the pause, the moment of intense need and craving before he plunged back in, lost to the dark delights of his twisted desire for his mother Jeanne. Time stood still as he devoured the panties, the world narrowed to the sweet, heady taste of his mother’s secrets. His mind reeled, consumed by the taboo pleasure, the guilt and shame mingling with the overwhelming rush of lust. It was depraved, unhinged, yet he couldn’t stop, couldn’t bear to break the spell. Finally, with a shuddering gasp, Anthony pulled away, the damp fabric clutched tightly in his fist. He collapsed back in his chair, his chest heaving, his mind reeling from the intensity of the experience. As the fog of lust began to clear, a chill settled over him, the weight of his actions sinking in. He knew it was wrong, that he needed help, and he did not care. And for now, in this moment, he allowed himself the cruel comfort of the fantasy, the dark allure of his mother Jeanne Catherine LaMonica’s forbidden scent lingering on his tongue, a siren’s call that urged him to surrender to the abyss of his desires once more.