She was my mom, but that never stopped the way her body made my cock twitch every time she walked past. Big, heavy tits that strained against every shirt she owned, wide hips and a fat ass that jiggled when she bent over. I was nineteen, home from college for the summer, and the house felt smaller every day.
One afternoon she came out of the laundry room in nothing but a thin tank top and panties. Her nipples poked out hard through the cotton. "Help me fold these," she said, dumping a basket of clothes on the couch. I sat down and started sorting, but my eyes kept drifting to her chest. She noticed.
"You keep staring at my tits like that and I'm gonna think you want something," she said, voice low and direct. She didn't sound mad. She sounded like she was daring me.
I put the shirt down. "Maybe I do."
She stepped closer, grabbed my hand and pressed it against one heavy breast. "Then take it. You've been eye-fucking me since you got home."
I squeezed, feeling the soft weight, then yanked the tank top down. Her tits spilled out, full and round with thick pink nipples. I leaned in and sucked one into my mouth, biting just hard enough to make her hiss. She shoved her hand into my shorts and wrapped her fingers around my cock.
"Fuck, you're hard already," she muttered, stroking me rough and fast.
"Get it out."
I stood up, dropped my shorts, and my cock sprang free, thick and leaking. She dropped to her knees right there in the living room and took me straight into her mouth. No teasing. She sucked hard, bobbing her head, spit running down my shaft while her big tits swayed. I grabbed her hair and fucked her face, pushing deeper until she gagged.
She pulled off, strings of saliva connecting her lips to my cock. "Bedroom. Now."
We didn't make it to the bed. She bent over the dresser, shoved her panties down, and spread her legs. Her pussy was already wet, lips puffy and glistening. I lined up and shoved in with one hard thrust. She was tight and hot, gripping me all the way to the balls.
"That's it, fuck your momma," she groaned. "Give it to me hard."
I slammed into her, the dresser rattling, her ass rippling every time our bodies slapped together. Her tits swung beneath her. I reached around and grabbed them, squeezing while I pounded her cunt. She pushed back, meeting every thrust, moaning filthy shit like "Deeper, fuck that pussy" and "Momma needs that cock."
I pulled out and spun her around, lifting one leg onto the dresser so I could watch her face while I drove back in. Her eyes were glassy, mouth open. I leaned down and sucked on her tits again, biting the nipples while I fucked her.
She came first, cunt clenching around me, juices running down my balls. I kept going, chasing my own orgasm, then pulled out at the last second and painted her stomach and tits with thick ropes of cum. She rubbed it into her skin, licking her fingers clean.
We didn't stop there. That night she came to my room wearing nothing. She climbed on top, sank down on my cock, and rode me slow and deep, those heavy tits bouncing in my face. I sucked them while she ground her clit against me, coming again with a low, dirty moan. Then I flipped her onto her back, pinned her legs open, and fucked her until she was begging for my load. I gave it to her, pumping deep inside while she held me there with her thighs.
After that it became regular. Morning quickies in the shower where I'd bend her over and pound her ass while water ran over us. Afternoon fucks on the kitchen table, her tits pressed against the wood while I railed her from behind. She liked it raw and direct, telling me exactly how she wanted her pussy used, how she wanted me to suck her big tits, how she wanted my cum in her mouth or on her face.
One night she had me sit on the couch and straddled me reverse, sliding my cock into her ass for the first time. She worked herself down slow, then bounced on it, reaching back to spread her cheeks so I could watch. I reached around and rubbed her clit until she came hard, ass squeezing me. I filled her up right after.
We never talked about stopping. She was my buxom momma and I was the son who fucked her every chance we got. The house stayed full of the sound of skin slapping and her telling me to fuck her harder, deeper, dirtier. By the end of summer we had a routine, and neither of us wanted it to end.
