It was a casual Saturday afternoon at the Midoriya residence. Izuku was sitting alone on his bean bag chair listening to college rock, eating potato chips, and reading comics. He tried to keep doing as minute as possible, confining it to the two-block radius of his home. And by two-blocks, the bathroom and the kitchen.

It was the middle of Summer break. No homework was finished. He lazed around part of the time. Sleeping, reading comic books, listening to music, and playing video games were the schedule-filled activities in the sixteen-year-old's mind.

Until today.

"Icchan, honey." The lovely savory voice of his mother welcomed her presence as she ventured to the bedroom. She paused when seeing her lovely son doing the same thing since yesterday...and the day before that...and the day before that.

Not today, she declared as she walked up to her lazy son.

"Icchan," she exclaimed as she pulled off his headphones. "I've called your name for quite a spell. I needed to talk to you."

Izuku felt the ringing in his ears as he trying reading his mother's lips. "You cast my name in the pits of hell? I have no respect for you."

The poor mother slapped the palm of her forehead. "Honey, this Summer is going to kill me if you continue to lay around."

"What's the matter, Mom," he asked curiously. "I'm not doing nothing wrong. Just having some quality time."

"It isn't quality time if you don't spend it with the ones you love," she began fake wailing. "Oh no! Do you not like your mother." She produced fake tears. "Oh, God. My God in heaven. My poor Icchan doesn't love his Okaa-san no more. He doesn't love his Mommy!"

Izuku didn't like when his mother got emotional. Partially as the waterfall of tears would land on his comic books. "No, Mother." He grabbed her hands. "Icchan loves his Mommy. His Okaa-san loves me!"

Her eyes glimmered. "You love your Mommy?"

Imagine the background filled with roses and hearts along with sparkling stars.

Wiping the tears, she cradled her son. "Mommy loves you, too, sweetie."

He kissed her forehead. "Always Mother, always."

"Good," she said. "Then you can help me with an errand."

Imagine the background filled with roses turning black and the hearts breaking along with the stars dropping.

"Say what?"

"Yep! Yep!" She told him with much certainty. "The Cooking Club is having our weekly meet. And guess whose turn it is?"

"Mrs. Bakugo?"

"Funny! Me!"

Oh, hell! Izuku groaned internally when hearing that his mother's cooking club was hosting here. His mother's cooking club was no different than a sewing circle or a book club. A group of mothers talking about their struggles of being housewives. If not that, they would discuss how much their husband is working hard and not pleasing them between the sheets. They would talk about their children and compete on which child was the best. Finally, despite their camaraderie, they would be passive-aggressively criticizing each other.

Is this 'Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants' or 'Mama Mia?' Better yet, 'The Joy Luck Club?'

Nervously scratching the back of his head, he tried to find a way to weasel himself out of it. "Yeah, Mom. Listen, I have a ton of homework to do before heading back to school…"

She produced a smile. The kind of smile where one's forehead is bulging because one's dear son is near to busting a nerve.

"Dear, honey! Either you are going to do this or those wet dreams you keep having is the closest thing you will ever get to your potential real sex with Ochako for next seven years," she said while maintaining a secret.

Izuku yelped. "Ochako? How did you…"

"Mother isn't stupid, dear. Lest we forget that our thin walls are next to each other," she said. "To think that phone sex is still around." She bit her lip. "Plus, I have to change your sheets each week." She took her son's hand to pick him up. "Now, we have planning to do. The mothers will be here around seven o'clock. Let's make a move on, my lovely, darling, virgin son of mine."

"Mom?"

"I said 'urgent'."

Later in the kitchen...6:58 PM

Izuku was in the kitchen with his mother as she issued out tea and scones for the women as an icebreaker. The mother and son cleaned the kitchen to the point that the background was smearing and they could see outlines. "A job well-done," delightfully said Inko as she put on her apron for the cooking club. "Oh, yeah, I have something for you, too." She pulled out a sailor boy's cap. "Here! It says chef-in-training."

"Mom, it's the sailor boy's hat you made me wear when I was eight for Halloween," chagrined Izuku. "And you wrote on it."

She patted her son's cheek. "Poor, poor Izuku. Better yet, poor, poor Ochako when she hears what…"

"Alright, alright," said Izuku. He put on the sailor boy's cap.

She kissed him on the cheek before pinching it. "Cutie!"

6:59 PM

There was a knock on the door.

"Alright, they are here." She clapped her hands. "Places, my little chef," she told Izuku as he waited in the corner for her signal.

The portly, jolly emerald-haired mother checked the mirror to make sure she was decent. She managed to get the door. Meanwhile, Izuku wished he would have done his lazing around at the nearby 24-hour cafe.

"Girls, so glad you can come!"

Izuku watched as the women of her club entering the living room. Many of the mothers he was familiar with. Shouto's mother (Rei), Katsuki's mother (Mitsuki), Tsuyu's mother (Beru), Kyoka's mother (Mika), Momo's mother (refuses to give out her real name), and Ochako's mother (believes it's rude for Izuku to know her first name. Just Mrs. Uraraka).

Each made their presence as they entered the living room. The conversations varied, but Izuku felt like a small child wearing his sailor boy's hat.

"Well, ship ahoy, sailor boy."

It was no surprise that Mitsuki would first mention this. "I love how you got him ready for us." She bumped her ankle onto his shoulder. "Quite sexy," she winked at him.

Izuku blushed because of the embarrassment.

"We need a strong man to assist, ribbit," said Beru.

"Yes, a man to serve us from time to time," said Momo's mother.

"Yes, a man that can be meaningful," said Rei.

Izuku listened as he knew the sewing circle was beginning. Inko gave Izuku cue as he presented himself to the women. "Tea and scones for the…lovely young ladies."

Many of the women awed at that as he back away. He thought it was the cue to leave. "Dear, we are going to need you immediately tea time."

For what? "Any reason, Mom?"

"You are assisting the girls on whatever they need." Inko turned to the girls. "We are making pizza!"

The girls raised their teacups in excitement. I am in hell. The seven years without phone sex sounds much better. Quite, quite grateful to keep that to himself. He wouldn't know how to react. Especially since Ochako's mother was in the room.

Let's say about thirty minutes in the kitchen….

After thirty minutes of hearing Mom talk and the occasional cheek pinching from Mrs. Bakugo or Mrs. Asui, the women were in the kitchen preparing the dish. Each was working in a set of four. Izuku was working with Mrs. Bakugo, Mrs. Uraraka, and Mrs. Jiro.

"Alright, girls," shouted Inko. "Knead the dough with much water and flour."

"Ai! Yi! Boss!" Mitsuki responded in spirit as she was kneading the dough. Mrs. Uraraka was making the paste. Mrs. Jiro was slicing the pepperoni. Meanwhile, Izuku was helping with supplies.

"Oi! Icchan!" The spawn of Satan's mother called him to the counter.

"Yes, Mrs. Bakugou?"

"Help me with the kneading, sailor boy."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Izuku came to the counter to help with the dough. "Start with it. I come from behind to assist."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Izuku never made homemade pizza. So, in a way, it was kind of exciting. Izuku began sorting the gooey texture of the dough.

"You are being too delicate," said Mitsuki. "It's okay to be rough." Mitsuki pressed her body against his. Izuku, at first, didn't think anything of it as she was kneading the dough. "Have to be rough or else, the bread won't be delicate."

He was beginning to feel her breast against his back. She also smelled good. It was a brand new perfume. Must have gotten it from her husband from his travels overseas. "That's it. Knead it like that. Get it in there." Her voice was trailing away as she came from behind his ear. Then, he felt her hand going inside his front pocket.

"Mrs. Bakugou," he whispered.

"Shh! Continue to knead the bread. Don't need any of them getting distracted." She whispered in his ear. "Keep kneading. Don't want your mother to worry."

Izuku felt Mitsuki rubbing and caressing his penis. The feeling of her hands and the friction of his jeans was slowly waking up his 'third leg.' In an attempt to move away from her, he moved as if he was trying to adjust. Mitsuki spread his legs. "Don't fret, sailor boy. I am just helping you relax. While you knead the dough. I will tenderize your sausage."

His eyes watered and his face spasm. Mrs. Jiro was too focused on slicing the meat perfectly. Mrs. Uraraka began grating cheese from behind them. His mother was too focused on the other mothers to notice. By this time, Izuku was getting aroused and turned on.

Dude! I should be alarmed! This isn't cool. I am getting jerked off by my friend's mom. I can't believe...I can't believe...oh, my Lord, this feels wonderful. He let out a small moan.

"Okay, dear," asked Mrs. Uraraka.

"Just yawning," replied Izuku. "No need to worry."

Hoping no one noticed, he finally submitted to Mrs. Bakugou's bidding. Slowly, she shifted her hand up and down his valley until she felt the arousal of his dick. Smiling, she began gripping it faster.

"Keep kneading, baby," said Mitsuki as she continued to play. Izuku tried to manage to knead the dough. As must as he tried to concentrate, his body was the victor. His tenseness relaxed as he had allowed her permission to continue. She continued to talk with the others as she played with his dick. She would either go fast or slow; using her two fingers, or her whole hand. When she saw Izuku's pre-cum swelling in his pants, she intensified her grip.

"Mika, go and get some milk for us. Will you darling," she asked Mrs. Jiro. "Want to make it fluffier and creamy. The dough I mean."

Mrs. Jiro's moving exposed him partially. Mrs. Todoroki was grating cheese when she turned to Izuku. Is she looking? He panicked. He did not want anyone to know. Whatever had he thought, it must have transferred to Mitsuki's mind because she was going faster.

He slightly cried out as he erupted his load inside of his jeans. Each time he spurted, she gently rubbed his dick. Once it subsided, so did the pleasure. Caught up in the afterglow, Izuku leaned back to Mitsuki. Mitsuki retreated her hand from his pocket. She moved him aside. "Thanks for the milk." Mrs. Jiro bowed, but Izuku knew it was for him.

"You're okay, dear," asked Inko.

Blushing and turning beet red. He shook his head in disagreement.

"Okay, dear. You've worked hard. Go and take you a break," she told him.

Izuku nodded and pressed forward. Mitsuki stopped. She whispered in his ear. "You've worked hard. I think you earn yourself a reprieve. Come by next week when it's my turn to host. We are making milk-fed veal, sailor boy."

Izuku didn't respond. He nodded as he left the room. Mitsuki grinned as she returned to kneading the dough. She leaned forward and whispered to the girls. "I told you he was an easy catch."

"And right in front of his mother. Bold," exclaimed Mrs. Uraraka quietly.

"How was his dick," whispered Mika.

"Not a foot long, but over a six-inch," whispered Mitsuki. "Way bigger than our husbands."

Mika released a smile. "So, who's next on kneading him?"

She turned to Mrs. Uraraka. "I was thinking on getting you next. Did you say you hear your daughter doing phone sex with him?"

"Yes," she said nervously.

"Don't worry. Mika will join you. I will do a sanity check."

"Sanity, right," said Mika.

"How are we going to let him do it without letting his mother know," asked Mrs. Uraraka.

Mitsuki gave a strong smile. She looked over to the other mothers. While Inko was checking the oven, all were smiling at each other. She turned back to her group. "As always, cheer Inko on!"

To be continued….