The house was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge when she walked in from work. Her son, nineteen and home from college for the summer, was waiting in the kitchen with his cock already out, thick and hard in his fist.
"Get on your knees, Mom," he said, voice flat and direct. "You're sucking it tonight."
She froze, purse slipping from her shoulder. "What the hell are you doing? Put that away."
He stepped closer, blocking the doorway. "No. You've been teasing me for years with those tight tops and short shorts around the house. Now it's happening. Open your mouth or I tell Dad about the money you took from the joint account."
Her face burned. She knew he had the statements saved. Heart pounding, she dropped her purse and sank to her knees on the cold tile. His cock bobbed in front of her face, the head already shiny with pre-cum. The smell of him, young and musky, filled her nose.
"That's it," he growled. "Lick it first. Get it wet."
She hesitated, then stuck out her tongue and dragged it along the underside from balls to tip. He tasted salty. She did it again, slower, trying to buy time, but he grabbed her hair and shoved the head between her lips.
"Suck, Mom. Use your tongue."
Her mouth stretched around him. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked, bobbing her head the way she used to for her husband years ago. Spit ran down her chin. He thrust deeper, hitting the back of her throat until she gagged, eyes watering.
"Fuck, that's good. Keep going. Take more."
He held her head with both hands and fucked her mouth in short, hard strokes. Every time she tried to pull back he pushed forward, forcing her to swallow around the thick shaft. Her jaw ached. Drool soaked the front of her blouse, making the thin fabric cling to her nipples.
She hated how wet she was getting between her legs.
He pulled out suddenly, strings of spit connecting her lips to his cock. "Stand up. Bend over the table."
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Please, this is enough."
"No it's not." He spun her around, yanked her skirt up, and ripped her panties down to her knees. Two fingers shoved straight into her cunt. She was soaked. "Look at that. You like being forced to suck your son's cock."
He lined up and drove into her from behind in one thrust. She cried out, gripping the edge of the table. He fucked her hard and fast, the slap of skin loud in the kitchen. Every stroke pushed her forward so her tits dragged across the wood.
When he was close he pulled out, spun her back around, and shoved his cock into her mouth again. This time he didn't hold back. He came in thick pulses straight down her throat, holding her head until she swallowed every drop.
He let her go. She stayed on her knees, breathing hard, cum and spit dripping from her chin onto her ruined blouse.
"Same time tomorrow," he said, tucking himself away. "And next time you're going to beg for it."
She didn't answer. Her body was still shaking, cunt throbbing, mouth sore. She knew she would be there.
