She was already on her knees when he walked in from the garage, her robe hanging open so her heavy tits spilled out, nipples hard from the cool air and her own filthy thoughts.
"Lock the door," she said, voice low and direct. "Your father's not due back for hours."
He didn't ask questions. He just dropped his bag, turned the deadbolt, and started unbuckling his belt as he crossed the kitchen. His cock was already thickening, the thick outline pressing against his jeans. She reached up and yanked them down the second he was close enough, freeing the heavy length that slapped against her cheek.
"Fuck, Mom," he muttered. "You been waiting all day for this?"
"Since breakfast," she answered, wrapping her fingers around the base and licking a slow stripe up the underside. "Couldn't stop thinking about your cock stretching my cunt again."
She took him into her mouth without teasing, sucking hard and fast the way she knew he liked. Spit ran down her chin and dripped onto her tits while she bobbed her head, taking him deeper each time until her nose pressed against his stomach. He grabbed her hair and fucked her face in short, rough thrusts, groaning when her throat tightened around him.
"Get up," he ordered after a minute.
"Bend over the table."
She stood, robe falling to the floor, and turned around. Her ass was full and soft, the kind of body that had nursed him years ago and now wanted something very different. She spread her legs and leaned forward, tits flattening against the wood. He stepped in behind her, rubbed the fat head of his cock through her already-wet folds, and shoved in with one hard stroke.
She gasped, fingers curling against the table. "That's it. Fuck your mother like you mean it."
He gripped her hips and started pounding, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the kitchen. Every thrust drove her forward, her nipples dragging across the surface. She reached back with one hand to spread herself wider so he could watch his cock disappearing into her.
"Harder," she demanded. "I want to feel it tomorrow."
He gave her exactly what she asked for, slamming into her with enough force to make the table legs scrape. One hand reached around to rub her clit in tight circles while the other slapped her ass, leaving red prints. Her moans turned into broken curses.
"Goddamn, your pussy's so fucking tight," he growled. "You been saving this for me?"
"Only you," she panted. "Nobody else fucks me like my son does."
He pulled out suddenly and spun her around, lifting her onto the table edge. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he drove back in, now able to watch her face while he fucked her. Her tits bounced with every thrust. He leaned down and sucked one nipple into his mouth, biting just hard enough to make her cry out and clench around him.
She came first, legs shaking, cunt pulsing around his cock as she buried her face against his shoulder and moaned his name. He kept fucking her through it, chasing his own release. When he was close he pulled out, stroked himself twice, and painted thick ropes across her stomach and tits, some of it landing on her chin.
They stayed like that for a moment, breathing hard, his cum cooling on her skin. Then she slid off the table, dropped to her knees again, and licked him clean with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue.
"Round two in the shower," she said when she stood up, already reaching for his hand. "And this time I want you to come inside me."
He followed her down the hall, already getting hard again at the sight of her ass swaying in front of him. The afternoon was just getting started.
