The house was quiet that afternoon, just the hum of the AC and the distant sound of the lawnmower outside. I had just stepped out of the shower, towel barely clinging to my hips, when I heard my mom call from the kitchen that she needed help with a jar. I walked in still damp, cock swinging heavy and half-hard from the hot water, not thinking twice about it.
She was bent over the counter in a thin robe, struggling with the lid. When she turned, her eyes dropped straight to my crotch. The towel slipped. My huge cock flopped out, thick and veiny, already thickening up from the surprise. It hung there, heavy balls underneath, the head fat and dark.
"Fuck, sorry," I muttered, reaching for the towel. But she didn't look away. Her robe had fallen open a little too, nipples hard against the fabric. She licked her lips without realizing it.
"Jesus, that's… that's your father's size but bigger," she said, voice low and rough. Her hand was still on the jar but her eyes stayed locked on my dick. It twitched, growing longer, the veins standing out.
I should have covered up. Instead I stepped closer. "Mom, don't stare like that." But my voice came out thick. Her robe slipped more, showing the curve of her tits, the soft stomach, the dark patch of hair between her legs.
She reached out like she couldn't help it, fingers brushing the shaft. "It's so fucking big. How does that even fit?" Her touch was electric. My cock surged to full hardness, standing straight up, the head nearly touching her robe. Precum beaded at the tip.
It was an accident at first. She moved to grab the towel and her hand closed around the shaft instead. I groaned. She squeezed, feeling the thickness, the weight. "This is wrong," she whispered, but she didn't let go. She stroked once, slow and firm, thumb rubbing over the head.
I grabbed her hips without thinking, pulling her against me. My huge cock pressed between her thighs, sliding along her wet slit. She was soaked already. The head nudged her entrance and she gasped, hips rocking forward by instinct.
"Fuck me," she said, dirty and direct. "Put that monster in me right now."
I lifted her onto the counter. Her legs spread wide. I lined up and pushed.
The head stretched her open, inch after thick inch disappearing inside. She was tight, gripping every vein. She cried out, nails digging into my shoulders. "Goddamn, it's splitting me. Don't stop."
I bottomed out, balls pressed against her ass, her pussy pulsing around the base. Then I started fucking her hard. The counter creaked. Her tits bounced with every thrust. She reached down to feel where we joined, fingers tracing the thick shaft as it pumped in and out.
"Harder," she demanded. "Use that huge cock on your mom." I slammed into her, the wet sounds filling the kitchen. Her juices coated my balls. She came first, clenching so tight I almost lost it, her whole body shaking.
I pulled out and flipped her over, bending her over the counter. I drove back in from behind, watching my cock disappear into her, stretching her wide. She pushed back, meeting every thrust. "Fill me up," she moaned. "Pump that load deep."
I grabbed her hips and fucked her until my balls tightened. I unloaded with a grunt, shooting rope after thick rope inside her, so much it leaked out around my shaft. She milked every drop, grinding back until I was empty.
We stayed like that a minute, breathing hard, my huge cock still half-hard inside her. Then she turned her head and smiled dirty. "Accident or not, you're not pulling out next time."
We didn't stop there. She led me to the couch, dropped to her knees, and sucked what she could of my cock into her mouth, gagging on the size but hungry for it. I fucked her throat until I was ready again, then laid her down and took her slow and deep, watching every inch slide in and out while she begged for more.
By the time we were done that day, her pussy was swollen and dripping, her body marked with my hands, and we both knew the "accident" was the start of something we weren't going to stop.
