The house was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the distant tick of the clock. I had just turned twenty-two, home from college for the summer, and she was my mom, forty-five, still turning heads with that full figure and the way she moved like she owned every room. We had always been close, but lately the air between us felt thick, charged.
She walked into the kitchen wearing a thin robe that clung to her heavy breasts and wide hips. "Couldn't sleep either?" she asked, her voice low.
I shook my head, eyes drifting down before I could stop them. "Too hot tonight."
She poured two glasses of water, handed me one, and let her fingers linger against mine. "It is hot," she said, and the way she said it made my cock twitch in my shorts.
We stood there in the dim light, neither of us moving away. Her nipples pressed against the robe fabric, hard and obvious. I set my glass down. "Mom, this is crazy."
She stepped closer, robe falling open just enough to show the swell of her tits. "We've both been thinking about it. Don't lie." Her hand came up and cupped my face, thumb brushing my lip. "You're a grown man now. I'm not blind to how you look at me."
I grabbed her waist and pulled her in. Our mouths met hard, tongues sliding deep. She tasted like mint and something sweeter. Her robe dropped to the floor. Naked, she pressed her soft body against me, my cock trapped between us, thick and throbbing against her belly.
"Fuck," I groaned against her mouth. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around my shaft, stroking slow and firm.
"Big boy," she whispered. "Been wanting this cock inside me for months."
We didn't make it to the bedroom. She turned and bent over the kitchen table, ass up, legs spread. Her pussy was shaved smooth, lips already slick and glistening. I dropped to my knees, buried my face between her cheeks, and licked her from clit to asshole in one long stroke. She moaned loud, pushing back against my tongue.
I stood, lined up, and slammed into her in one thrust. She was tight and hot, gripping me all the way to the root. "Yes, fuck your mom," she gasped. I pounded her hard, the table scraping on the tile with every stroke. Her tits swung beneath her, slapping together. I reached around and rubbed her clit fast, feeling her walls flutter.
She came first, crying out, pussy pulsing around my cock. I didn't stop. I pulled out, spun her around, lifted her onto the table, and drove back in. Her legs locked around my waist. We fucked like animals, sweat-slick skin slapping, her nails raking my back.
"Fill me up," she begged. "Come in your mother's cunt."
I buried myself deep and unloaded, pulse after thick pulse, flooding her.
We stayed locked together, breathing hard, my cum leaking out around my still-hard dick.
She kissed me slow and dirty. "Bedroom," she said. "We're not done."
Upstairs she rode me, grinding her clit against me while I sucked her nipples. Later I took her from behind again, pulling her hair, slapping her ass until it was red. Every time I thought I was finished she touched me and I was ready again. By dawn we were tangled in the sheets, my cum dried on her thighs, both of us raw and satisfied.
She looked at me with a lazy, wicked smile. "Same time tomorrow night?"
I nodded, already hard again.
