The house was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the faint creak of the floorboards under her bare feet. Linda had come home early from work, expecting an empty place, but the sound of the shower running upstairs told her Jake was still there. Her twenty-three-year-old son had moved back in after college, and the days had started to blur into something heavier, something she kept pushing down.
She climbed the stairs anyway, laundry basket in hand, telling herself she just needed to drop off towels. The bathroom door stood half open. Steam rolled out. Through the gap she saw him, tall and broad, water sliding down his back and over the tight curve of his ass. His cock hung heavy between his legs, thick even soft, the head flushed dark. Linda froze. Heat rushed between her own thighs so fast it made her dizzy.
Jake turned, caught her staring. He didn't reach for a towel. Instead he grinned, slow and filthy. "You gonna stand there or come in, Mom?"
Her mouth went dry. She stepped inside, set the basket down, and the door clicked shut behind her. The air was hot and wet. Jake's cock twitched, starting to swell right in front of her eyes.
"I shouldn't be in here," she said, voice already rough.
"You already are." He stepped closer, water dripping from his chest onto her blouse. "Look at it. You can't stop looking."
Linda's hand lifted before she could stop it. Her fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, feeling it throb and grow heavier, hotter. The skin was velvet over steel. She stroked once, slow, and a clear bead of precum welled at the slit. She couldn't believe she was touching her own son's dick, couldn't believe how good it felt in her palm.
"Fuck, Mom," Jake groaned. "Suck it."
She dropped to her knees on the wet tile without thinking. The head brushed her lips, salty and smooth. She opened her mouth and took him in, tongue sliding under the ridge, sucking hard. His cock stretched her lips wide, filled her mouth until her jaw ached. She bobbed her head, saliva dripping down her chin, eyes watering as she tried to take more.
Jake's hand tangled in her hair, guiding her deeper. "That's it. Suck your son's cock like you've been wanting to."
Linda moaned around him, the sound filthy and wet. She couldn't believe she was doing this, couldn't believe how wet her panties were, how her clit pulsed with every thrust of his hips. She reached down, shoved her hand into her skirt, and rubbed her soaked pussy while she sucked him harder, faster, cheeks hollowing.
He pulled out with a wet pop, cock shiny with spit. "Stand up. Bend over the sink."
She obeyed, skirt shoved up, panties yanked aside. Jake rubbed the fat head of his cock through her folds, then pushed inside in one long thrust. Linda cried out, gripping the counter. He fucked her deep and rough, balls slapping her ass, the mirror fogging with their breath. Every stroke hit something that made her legs shake.
When he pulled out again she spun around, dropped back to her knees, and took him into her mouth once more. The taste of her own pussy on his cock made her moan louder. She stroked the shaft with both hands while she sucked the head, tongue swirling, desperate to taste his cum.
Jake's thighs tensed.
"Gonna fill your mouth, Mom."
She didn't pull away. Hot, thick spurts hit her tongue, flooded her throat. She swallowed every drop, sucking until he softened, then licked him clean. Her own orgasm rolled through her a second later, fingers frantic on her clit, knees trembling on the tile.
Jake pulled her up, kissed her hard, tasting himself on her lips. "We're not done," he said, already hardening again against her stomach.
Linda stared at him, chest heaving, cum still on her breath. She couldn't believe she had just sucked her son's cock. She couldn't believe she wanted more.
