The house was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old floorboards under my bare feet. I had just turned twenty-five, back home for a few weeks between jobs, and she was in the kitchen wearing that thin silk robe she always saved for late nights. Mom looked up from the counter, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, and smiled that slow, knowing smile that had started to mean something else lately.
Couldnt sleep again? she asked, voice low and a little rough.
I shook my head. You either.
She set her glass down and came closer, the robe slipping just enough to show the curve of one breast. We keep doing this. Walking around each other like were not thinking the same thing.
I didnt answer with words. I stepped in, hands finding her waist, and pulled her against me. She was warm, soft, and the second our mouths met the heat that had been simmering for months snapped into something hotter and dirtier. Her tongue slid against mine, hungry, and her hands went straight to my cock through my boxers, gripping it hard.
Fuck, youre already so hard for me, she whispered against my lips. My own son, walking around this house with that big dick straining for his mother.
I groaned and backed her against the counter, yanking the robe open. Her tits spilled out, nipples tight, and I bent to suck one into my mouth while my fingers shoved between her thighs. She was wet already, slick and hot, and she spread her legs without hesitation.
Touch me, she ordered, voice raw. Put your fingers in your moms pussy.
Two fingers slid inside her easily. She clenched around them, hips rocking, and I pumped them deep while my thumb worked her clit. She moaned loud, head tipping back, one hand still stroking my cock through the thin cotton until she pushed the boxers down and wrapped her fist around me skin to skin.
God, youre thick, she breathed. Ive been thinking about this cock every night. How it would feel stretching me open.
I pulled my fingers out, spun her around, and bent her over the counter. The robe fell to the floor. Her ass was round and perfect, and I spread her cheeks, lined up, and shoved inside in one long thrust. She cried out, pushing back to take every inch.
Harder, she gasped. Fuck your mother like you mean it.
I did. I gripped her hips and drove into her, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the kitchen. Every thrust made her moan my name, her pussy gripping me tight. She reached between her legs to rub her clit, fingers brushing my balls on every stroke.
Dont stop, she panted. Fill me up. I want to feel you come inside me.
I lasted longer than I thought I could, pounding her until her legs shook and she came with a sharp cry, cunt pulsing around my cock. Then I let go, burying myself deep and pumping thick ropes of cum into her. She stayed bent over, breathing hard, my cum already starting to leak down her thigh.
We didnt talk much after that. We just moved to the couch, her straddling me this time, riding slow and deep while she whispered every filthy thing shed been holding back. How shed watched me in the shower. How shed touched herself thinking about her sons cock. How she wanted it again and again.
By morning we were still at it, tangled on her bed, her on all fours while I took her from behind again, both of us too far gone to care about anything except the next thrust, the next moan, the next hot rush of release.
We knew it was wrong. We also knew we werent going to stop.
