I came home late that night and found Mom passed out on the couch, an empty bottle of whiskey on the floor beside her. She was only thirty-nine, still hot as hell, with those big tits barely contained in a thin tank top and her skirt hiked up from how she’d slumped over. I’d jerked off to thoughts of her for years, but tonight the booze had her limp and open.
I shook her shoulder. “Mom, wake up.” She mumbled something, eyes half-open, breath reeking of liquor. Her hand landed on my thigh by accident and stayed there. Heat shot straight to my cock.
“Baby… you’re home,” she slurred, fingers sliding higher until she brushed the bulge in my jeans. She didn’t pull away. Instead she squeezed. “Fuck, you’re hard. Mommy’s drunk and you’re hard for her.”
I didn’t hesitate. I yanked my zipper down and pulled my dick out. It was thick and already leaking.
Mom stared at it, licked her lips, and wrapped her drunk hand around the shaft. “So big. So much bigger than your dad’s.” She stroked me slow and sloppy, thumb smearing precum over the head.
I grabbed her tank top and pulled it down. Her heavy tits spilled out, nipples dark and stiff. I sucked one into my mouth while she kept pumping my cock. She moaned loud, hips rolling. “That’s it, suck Mommy’s tits. I’m so fucking wet.”
I shoved her skirt up. No panties. Her pussy was shaved smooth and glistening. Two fingers slid right in, tight and hot and dripping. She bucked against my hand. “Finger-fuck me, baby. Make your drunk mother cum on your fingers.”
She came fast, clenching and gushing around my knuckles, crying out my name. Before she could catch her breath I climbed between her spread legs and slammed my cock into her soaked cunt in one thrust. She was tight as hell, walls gripping me like she’d been waiting years for this.
“Fuck me,” she begged, voice thick with whiskey. “Fuck your mother’s drunk pussy. Use me.”
I pounded her hard on that couch, skin slapping, her tits bouncing with every thrust. She clawed my back and wrapped her legs around me, heels digging in. “Deeper. Breed Mommy’s cunt. Fill me up.”
I flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her ass up, and drove back in from behind. Her pussy made wet squelching sounds every time I bottomed out. I reached under and rubbed her clit while I fucked her. She came again, screaming into the cushion, juices running down my balls.
I wasn’t done. I pulled out, spat on her asshole, and pushed two fingers in. “You want it here too?” I growled.
“Anywhere,” she slurred. “Mommy’s drunk. Do whatever you want.”
I lined up and sank my cock into her tight ass. She gasped and pushed back, taking every inch. I fucked her ass raw while she rubbed her own clit, coming again with my dick buried in her guts.
When I finally unloaded, I pulled out and painted her face and tits with thick ropes of cum. She licked what she could reach, eyes glassy, smiling like a filthy drunk slut. “Again,” she whispered. “Don’t stop. Mommy wants more.”
We fucked three more times that night—on the floor, against the wall, her riding me reverse cowgirl while I slapped her ass red. Every time she came she moaned how wrong it was and how good it felt. By morning she was sober but still horny, and we kept going until the sun came up.
She never told me to stop. She just kept spreading her legs and begging for her son’s cock like the drunk, desperate mother she was.
