I never planned it. One minute I was just helping Mom around the house after Dad left, the next I had her bent over the kitchen table with my cock buried deep in her wet cunt, both of us grunting like animals.
It started the week after my twenty-fifth birthday. Mom had been drinking more since the divorce. I came home from work one night and found her in the living room wearing nothing but a thin robe that kept slipping open. Her tits were fuller than I remembered, nipples dark and hard against the silk. She caught me staring and didnt close it.
Youre a grown man now, she said, voice low and a little slurred. You can look.
I tried to laugh it off, but my dick was already stiffening in my jeans. She noticed. Her eyes dropped to my crotch and stayed there.
Jesus, youre big, she muttered. Then she stood up, robe falling completely open, and walked straight to me. Her hand went right to my bulge, squeezing. Been thinking about this?
I should have pushed her away. Instead I grabbed her ass and pulled her against me. Her mouth found mine hard and hungry, tongue pushing past my lips like shed been waiting years. We stumbled toward her bedroom, clothes coming off in the hallway. By the time we hit the bed she was naked and spreading her legs, pussy already glistening.
Fuck me, she said, no hesitation. I need it rough tonight.
I climbed between her thighs and shoved my cock straight in. She was tight and hot, soaking wet, and she cried out when I bottomed out. No slow buildjust hard, fast thrusts that made the headboard slam the wall. Mom wrapped her legs around me and clawed my back, telling me to go deeper, to fuck her like I meant it.
I flipped her onto her stomach and took her from behind, one hand fisted in her hair, the other slapping her ass every time she pushed back against me. She came first, loud and shaking, cunt pulsing around my dick. I didnt stop. I kept pounding until I felt my balls tighten and then I pulled out, stroking once before I painted her ass and lower back with thick ropes of cum.
We didnt talk much afterward. She just rolled over, pulled me down, and started sucking me hard again. That night we fucked three more timesonce in the shower, once with her riding me on the couch, and once slow and deep in her bed until the sun came up.
After that it became regular. Mornings before work shed wake me with her mouth on my cock. Afternoons shed text me pictures of her spread pussy with captions like Come home and fill this. Evenings wed watch TV with her sitting on my lap, my dick inside her, neither of us moving until one of us couldnt take it anymore.
She liked it dirty. She liked me calling her Mom while I was balls-deep, liked hearing how tight her cunt was compared to girls my age. She liked when I came on her face and made her lick it off my fingers. I liked the way she begged, the way her body responded like it had been starving for exactly this.
We never called it love. It was just needraw, constant, and too good to stop. Every time I slid into her it felt like the most natural thing in the world, even when we both knew it wasnt.
And we kept doing it. Still do.
