The front door slammed shut and Lisa froze in the kitchen, her hands still wet from the dishes. She turned to see her son Mark standing there with two of his buddies, all three of them grinning like they had already won.
"Strip, Mom," Mark said, voice low and hard. "Right now. We recorded every moan you made last night when you thought no one was home. The audio is on my phone. One word from you and the whole neighborhood gets to hear how wet you got fingering yourself."
Lisa's face burned. She glanced at the other two guys, both over eighteen, both staring at her body like they owned it. Her voice shook. "Mark, this isn't funny."
"Wasn't asking for funny," he snapped. "Clothes off or we hit play."
Her fingers trembled as she pulled her shirt over her head. Bra next. Jeans. Panties. She stood naked in her own kitchen while three young men looked her over.
"Hands on the counter," one of the friends ordered. She obeyed. Mark stepped behind her, spread her legs with his knee, and shoved two fingers straight into her pussy without warning.
"Fuck, she's already dripping," he laughed. "Knew you wanted this."
The wet sounds filled the room as he pumped his fingers fast and rough. Lisa bit her lip but a moan slipped out anyway. Mark pulled his phone out with his free hand and hit record.
"Tell the mic what you are," he said.
"I'm… your mom," she whispered.
"Louder. And say the rest."
"I'm your mom and I'm a filthy slut who needs her son's cock."
Mark yanked his fingers free and replaced them with his thick dick in one hard thrust.
Lisa cried out, gripping the counter. He fucked her deep and fast, the slap of skin loud and nasty. One friend moved in front of her, unzipped, and pushed his cock into her mouth.
"Suck it like you mean it," he growled.
She did, choking around the length while Mark pounded her from behind. The second friend reached under and pinched her clit, rubbing it in rough circles until her legs shook.
Mark kept the phone close. "Say it again for the recording."
Lisa pulled off the cock in her mouth just long enough to gasp, "Fuck your mom harder. Use me."
They switched positions. She ended up on the kitchen table, legs spread wide, one cock in her pussy, another in her mouth, the third sliding between her tits. Cum splattered across her face and chest while Mark kept recording every wet sound and every desperate moan.
By the time they finished, Lisa was shaking, covered in their load, pussy throbbing and sore. Mark stopped the recording and leaned down.
"Next time we play the audio for you while we do it again," he said. "And you better beg louder."
Lisa looked up at her son, breathing hard, and nodded.
