I had been fighting it for months, the way my eyes kept drifting to his body when he walked around the house in nothing but boxers, the thick outline of his cock pressing against the thin cotton. He was eighteen, legal, all grown muscle and quiet hunger, but he was still my son. That fact should have stopped me cold. It didnt. Every night I lay in bed with my hand between my legs, whispering his name while I came, imagining what it would feel like to finally give in.
Tonight the house was empty except for us. His father was gone for the weekend. Id had two glasses of wine and was wearing the thin silk robe that barely covered my ass.
I found him in the living room, sprawled on the couch, shirtless, scrolling on his phone. His cock was already half-hard, a clear bulge under his shorts.
Mom, he said, voice low, eyes flicking up to my legs. You look good.
I didnt answer with words. I walked over, stood between his spread knees, and let the robe fall open. My tits spilled out, nipples tight. My shaved pussy was already wet, lips glistening. His eyes went wide, then dark.
Touch it, I told him, raw and direct. Youve been staring at my cunt for weeks. Put your fingers in it.
He reached up without hesitation, two thick fingers sliding straight into my soaked hole. I moaned loud, hips rocking down onto his hand. Fuck, thats it. Finger your mothers pussy. He pumped them in and out, thumb rubbing my clit, and I could feel how hard he was getting, cock straining against his shorts.
I dropped to my knees, yanked his shorts down, and his dick sprang free, heavy, veined, the head already leaking. Jesus, youre big, I said, wrapping my hand around the base. I licked the tip, tasting him, then took him deep into my throat in one smooth motion. He groaned, hips jerking, and I gagged but didnt stop, sucking hard, drool running down his balls.
Mom, fuck, your mouth, he gasped. I pulled off, strings of spit connecting my lips to his cock.
Stand up, I ordered. He did. I turned around, bent over the arm of the couch, and reached back to spread my ass cheeks. You want to fuck your mother? Do it. Shove that cock in me right now.
He didnt need more invitation. He lined up and drove in deep with one thrust. I cried out, pussy stretching around him, so full it hurt in the best way. He started pounding immediately, hard, fast, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. Every thrust hit my cervix and I pushed back, meeting him.
Harder, I snarled. Fuck me like you mean it. Fill your moms cunt. He grabbed my hips, slamming into me, balls slapping my clit. I reached down and rubbed myself, coming hard around his cock, pussy clenching and gushing.
He didnt stop. He flipped me onto my back on the couch, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and drove back in. The new angle let him go even deeper. I watched his face while he fucked me, eyes locked on where his thick cock disappeared into my wet hole over and over.
Gonna come inside you, he warned, voice rough.
Do it, I said. Come in your mothers pussy. Give it to me.
He buried himself to the hilt and unloaded, hot jets of cum flooding me. I came again from the feeling, milking every drop out of him. When he finally pulled out, thick white cream spilled from my stretched cunt and ran down my ass.
We didnt speak for a minute, just breathing. Then he leaned down and kissed me, tongue deep, tasting both of us. His cock was already twitching again against my thigh.
Round two, I said, reaching down to stroke him. This time I want you on top of me, slow and deep, until I scream.
He smiled, dirty and hungry, and we didnt leave the living room until morning.
