She was waiting in the kitchen when I came home from the bar, wearing that thin silk robe that barely covered her thighs.
The house was dark except for the light over the sink, and she had a glass of wine in her hand. I was twenty-five, old enough to know better, but the way she looked at me that night made everything else irrelevant.
"You've been drinking," she said, voice low. "Come here."
I stepped closer. She set the glass down and reached for my belt without another word. Her fingers worked fast, pulling the leather free, unzipping me. She dropped to her knees right there on the tile floor and took my cock in her mouth like she'd been thinking about it all day. Wet, hot, no hesitation. She sucked hard, one hand stroking the base while her tongue worked the head, and I had to grab the counter to stay standing.
"Fuck, Mom," I groaned. She looked up at me with those eyes and moaned around my dick, the vibration shooting straight through me. She didn't stop until I was rock hard and throbbing, spit running down her chin. Then she stood, turned around, and bent over the counter, lifting the robe to show she had nothing underneath.
"Take it," she said. "I've been wet since you left."
I didn't need more invitation. I grabbed her hips and shoved inside in one thrust. She was tight and slick, gripping me like she never wanted me to pull out. I fucked her hard right there, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the quiet kitchen. Every time I bottomed out she pushed back, begging for more.
"Harder," she panted. "Don't hold back with me."
I slammed into her again and again, one hand reaching around to rub her clit. She came fast, legs shaking, cunt pulsing around my cock. I kept going until I couldn't hold it anymore, pulling out at the last second and shooting thick ropes across her ass and lower back.
We didn't talk about it afterward. She just turned, kissed me deep, and led me upstairs to her bedroom. We spent the rest of the night in her bed, me on top, her on top, her riding me slow and then fast, both of us filthy and loud. She told me how long she'd wanted this, how she'd touched herself thinking about my cock. I told her how good her pussy felt and how I wasn't going to stop.
By morning we were still tangled together, sweaty and spent. She woke me with her mouth again, and we started all over. No guilt, no stopping. Just the two of us finally giving in to what we'd both needed for too long.
