I had just turned twenty-two when it happened. My dad was gone on another long business trip, and mom had been walking around the house in those thin silk robes that barely covered her ass. She was forty-five but still had that body that made my cock twitch every time she bent over. One night after dinner I caught her staring at me while I did the dishes. Her eyes dropped straight to my crotch and stayed there.
"Jake," she said, voice low and rough. "Come here."
I stepped closer. She reached out and grabbed my dick through my jeans without any warning. Her fingers squeezed hard. "You've been walking around with this thing hard for weeks. I know you've been jerking off thinking about me."
I didn't deny it. "Yeah. Every fucking night."
She smiled like she'd been waiting to hear that. "Then stop wasting it in your hand." She dropped to her knees right there in the kitchen, unzipped me, and pulled my cock out. Her mouth was hot and wet the second she wrapped her lips around the head. She sucked like she was starving for it, taking me deep until I felt the back of her throat. Spit ran down my balls while she worked me with both hands and her tongue.
I grabbed her hair and started fucking her face. She moaned around my shaft, the sound vibrating straight through me. When I told her I was close she just sucked harder until I shot down her throat. She swallowed every drop and licked me clean.
That was only the start. She stood up, untied her robe, and let it fall. Her tits were full and heavy, nipples already stiff. She turned around, bent over the counter, and spread her legs. "Fuck your mother," she said. "Do it now."
I lined up and drove into her pussy in one thrust. She was soaked. Tight and hot and gripping me like she never wanted me to pull out. I pounded her hard, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the kitchen. She pushed back against every stroke, begging me to go deeper, to fuck her like I meant it.
We moved to the living room after that.
She rode me on the couch, tits bouncing in my face while she ground her clit against me. I sucked her nipples and slapped her ass until she came, clenching around my cock and soaking my lap. Then I flipped her onto her back and fucked her missionary, legs over my shoulders, watching her face while I buried myself balls-deep.
She kept talking dirty the whole time. "That's it, baby. Fuck mommy's cunt. Fill me up. I want to feel you come inside me." I did exactly that, pumping load after load into her while she held me there with her legs locked around my waist.
We didn't stop that night. She took me to her bedroom, got on all fours, and told me to take her ass. I worked lube into her and pushed in slow at first, then harder once she started pushing back. She came twice with my cock in her ass and my fingers on her clit. By morning we had fucked in the shower, on the dining table, and against the hallway wall. Cum was leaking down her thighs and she still wanted more.
After that we stopped pretending. Every time dad left town she came to my room or dragged me into hers. Sometimes she'd wake me up with her mouth. Sometimes she'd climb on top and use me until she got off, then make me fuck her again from behind. We got rougher as the weeks went on. She'd tell me to choke her lightly while I pounded her. I'd call her my filthy slut mom and she'd moan louder every time.
The best nights were when she made me hold back until she was begging. She'd edge me with her tongue and hands, then climb on and ride slow, telling me exactly how she wanted my cum. When she finally let me finish she always took it deep, either in her pussy or down her throat, and thanked me for it.
We never talked about stopping. It just became normal. She was my mother and my fuck. I was her son and her cock. And every time we heard dad's car in the driveway we both knew we'd be counting the days until he left again so we could tear each other apart one more time.
