I still remember the exact moment it stopped being just a fantasy. I was twenty-five, living back home after college while I figured out my next move, and Mom had been walking around the house in those thin cotton shorts that rode up every time she bent over. One humid July night, the AC was busted and the air felt thick enough to drink. She came into the living room in nothing but an old tank top and panties, fanning herself with a magazine.
Too hot to sleep, she said, dropping onto the couch beside me. Her thigh pressed against mine, skin damp and warm. She didnt move it away.
We talked about nothing for a whileold movies, the neighbors dog, whatever. Then she looked at me, really looked, and her voice dropped. You ever think about how fucked up it is that were both adults now and still pretending we dont notice each other?
My cock was already half-hard from the heat and her closeness. I swallowed. Yeah. I think about it.
She reached over without another word and cupped me through my shorts. Her palm was hot. Then stop pretending.
That was all it took. I grabbed her wrist, pulled her onto my lap, and kissed her hard. She tasted like the cheap wine shed been sipping and something sweeter underneath. Her tongue pushed into my mouth while her hips rolled down against me, grinding that thin strip of cotton over my dick until I was fully stiff and aching.
Mom broke the kiss only to yank her tank top off. Her tits spilled free, heavy and soft, nipples already tight. I leaned in and sucked one into my mouth, biting just enough to make her gasp and clutch the back of my head. Harder, she whispered. I like it rough when its you.
I stood up with her still wrapped around me and carried her to the bedroomher bedroom, the one she used to share with Dad before he left. The sheets smelled like her lotion. I dropped her on the mattress and stripped the rest of her clothes off. She spread her legs without shame, pussy already glistening. I shoved two fingers inside her right away, no teasing, just knuckle-deep and curling against that spot that made her back arch.
Fuck, yes, she moaned. Your fingers feel so much better than mine.
I pumped them fast while I kicked off my shorts. My cock slapped against my stomach, thick and leaking. Mom reached for it immediately, wrapping her fingers around the base and stroking with a tight grip. Ive wanted this cock for years, she said, voice raw. Wanted to feel my own son stretch me open.
I pulled my fingers out, shiny with her, and replaced them with the head of my dick. I pushed in slow at first, watching her face as her pussy swallowed me inch by inch. She was tight, hot, and so fucking wet. When I bottomed out she let out a long, shaky breath and locked her ankles behind my back.
Move, she ordered. Fuck your mother like you mean it.
I did. Hard, deep strokes that made the headboard slam the wall. Every thrust dragged a wet sound out of her. She clawed my back, bit my shoulder, and kept talking filthy the whole time. Thats it, baby. Pound that taboo pussy. Fill me up with your cum. I want to feel it leaking out of me tomorrow when Im doing dishes.
I flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and slammed back in. The new angle let me go even deeper. Mom buried her face in the pillow and screamed into it while I fucked her like I was trying to break the bed. Her ass rippled every time my hips crashed against it. I reached under and rubbed her clit in fast circles until her whole body shook and she came hard, pussy clenching around me in rhythmic pulses.
I didnt stop. I kept driving into her through the orgasm, chasing my own. When I finally tipped over the edge I buried myself to the hilt and unloaded, thick ropes of cum flooding her. She pushed back against me, milking every drop with little rolls of her hips.
We stayed locked together, breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. After a minute she turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder, eyes glassy but smiling.
Round two in the shower, she said. And this time I want you to eat me first.
I was already getting hard again inside her.
By morning wed fucked in every room of the house. On the kitchen counter while the coffee brewed, against the washing machine while it spun, and once more in her bed with her riding me slow and deep, whispering how good it felt to finally have her sons cock where it belonged.
We never talked about stopping. We just kept goingquiet during the day, loud and desperate at night. Every time she called me baby while I was buried inside her, the taboo only made it hotter. She was my mother, and now she was also the woman who begged for my cum like she needed it to breathe.
And I gave it to her every single time.
