I woke up to the sound of rain pattering against my bedroom window. Typical British weather—just when you think summer’s finally here, the skies open up and ruin everything. I groaned, rolling onto my back and rubbing my eyes. Saturday. No school, no responsibilities. Just me, my PlayStation, and hopefully a few hours of peace before Mum started nagging me about chores.
Downstairs, I could hear the kettle boiling. Mum was already up, then. She was always an early riser, even on weekends. Stretching, I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on a hoodie, and shuffled downstairs.
The kitchen smelled like toast and coffee. Mum was leaning against the counter, sipping from her favourite mug—the one with the stupid “World’s Best Mum” slogan Liam had bought her as a joke last Christmas. She was already dressed, which was unusual for a lazy Saturday. Tight black crop top, denim shorts that left way too little to the imagination, and her auburn hair loose around her shoulders.
“Morning, love,” she said, flashing me that grin—the one that usually meant trouble.
I grunted in response, reaching for the cereal. “Why’re you dressed like that?” I muttered, pouring myself a bowl.
She arched an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Like you’re going clubbing. It’s nine in the morning.”
She laughed, swatting my arm. “Oh, come off it. Can’t a woman wear what she wants in her own house?”
I rolled my eyes. Yeah, she could. But did she have to look like that in front of my mates?
Afternoon Chaos
Liam and Gareth showed up around noon, drenched from the rain. Mum let them in, fussing over them like they were lost puppies.
“Boys! You’re soaked! Here, let me get you towels,” she said, already rummaging through the cupboard.
Liam grinned, shaking his hair like a dog. “Cheers, Mrs. H. You’re a lifesaver.”
Gareth smirked, eyes flicking over her outfit. “Looking good today, by the way.”
Mum actually blushed. “Oh, stop it,” she said, swatting his arm playfully.
I scowled. “Alright, enough. Let’s just go upstairs before you two drown on the carpet.”
We spent the next few hours in my room, gaming and messing about. But every so often, Mum would pop her head in—”You boys want snacks?” “Need more drinks?”—each time leaning just a little too far into the room, her top riding up, her hair perfectly tousled.
Liam wasn’t even trying to hide his staring.
Evening Disaster
By nightfall, the rain had stopped, but the tension in the house had only gotten worse. We’d moved to the living room, beers in hand (Mum had somehow convinced Gareth to sneak some in for us), and the atmosphere was… weird.
Mum was perched on the arm of the sofa, laughing at something Liam had said, her hand resting on his shoulder for way too long. Gareth kept shooting me these looks, like Mate, your mum’s something else.
And then it happened.
I’m sprawled on the couch, half-listening to the guys shooting the breeze, when I see Mum doing it again.
“Mum, seriously, d’you have to flirt with my mates?” I groan, chucking a cushion at the armrest.
She’s leaning against the kitchen counter, that tight black crop top riding up just enough to show a bit of her stomach, and those denim shorts? Man, they’re hugging her thighs like they’re painted on. Her auburn hair’s down, all wavy over her shoulders, and she’s got this playful smirk that’s totally winding me up. Why does she gotta act like this in front of Liam and Gareth?
“James, love, I’m not flirting,” she says, all innocent, batting her eyelashes. Her voice is all sweet, but there’s a look in her green eyes that says she knows exactly what she’s doing. “Just being friendly, yeah?”
Gareth, slouched in the armchair, grins like he knows something I don’t. “Mate, chill out. No harm done. Your mum’s just having a laugh.”
“Yeah, relax, James,” Liam chimes in, sprawled on the floor with a beer. “She can flirt with us if she wants. We’re not complaining.” He winks at her, and she giggles—giggles!—like some bloody schoolgirl.
“Screw this, I’m outta here,” I mutter, pushing myself off the couch. “You three have fun. I’m going to bed.”
I stomp upstairs, face burning. Why does it have to be my mum acting like this? I slam my bedroom door shut, strip down to my boxers, and flop onto the bed, but sleep’s nowhere in sight.
About an hour later, I’m still wide awake, staring at the ceiling, when I hear it. A faint slap-slap-slap from downstairs, like skin hitting skin. Then a muffled moan, low and throaty. My heart kicks into overdrive. What the hell is going on? I slip out of bed, barefoot, and creep down the stairs, the wood cold under my feet. The noises get louder—more moans, two distinct male grunts, and that rhythmic clapping. My stomach clenches, tight, but I can’t stop myself. I push the living room door open just a crack and peek inside.
Holy shit.
My mum’s on all fours on the rug, stark naked, arse in the air, skin all sweaty and glistening. Her auburn hair’s a mess, stuck to her neck, and her big tits are swaying with every move. Liam’s in front of her, kneeling, jeans around his ankles, and she’s got his cock in her mouth, lips stretched wide, bobbing up and down with wet, sloppy sounds. Gareth’s behind her, hands gripping her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he slams into her, thrusts hard and non-stop. The room stinks of sweat and sex, heavy and musky, and the air’s thick with their gasps and moans. Is this really happening?
“Ohhh, fuck yeah,” Gareth grunts, voice low and rough, hips snapping forward. “Take it, you dirty slag.” Her arse jiggles with every thrust, skin red where his hands are clamped on. She moans around Liam’s cock, a muffled “Mmmph!” that vibrates through the room. Her pussy’s right there, in full view, glistening, a trim bush framing her swollen, pink lips. It’s wet, dripping, and every thrust makes a wet squelch that mixes with the clapping of their bodies. Can you believe this?
I should turn around, head back to bed, but I’m rooted to the spot, my own cock twitching in my boxers. It’s wrong, so freaking wrong, but I can’t tear my eyes away. Gareth’s going faster, grunts getting louder, more animal-like. “Fuck… gonna cum,” he growls, and with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep, body shuddering. She whimpers, hips bucking back against him, and I see her pussy clench, a little bit of white stuff leaking out as he pulls back, cock all slick and spent.
Liam’s still got her head, guiding her mouth, but his eyes flick up and lock onto mine. He smirks, doesn’t miss a beat. My heart’s pounding in my chest, but I step inside, quiet as I can, and move behind Gareth. He’s panting, wiping sweat off his forehead, and doesn’t notice me ‘til I lean in and whisper, “My turn. Keep your mouth shut.” His eyes go wide, but he steps back, zipping up his jeans, that smug grin still plastered on his face. What have I just done?
Mum’s still sucking Liam, totally clueless, her arse swaying slightly, pussy glistening with Gareth’s cum and her own juices. I shove my boxers down, cock springing free—hard, thick, veins throbbing, head already wet with pre-cum. It’s not like I planned this, but fuck it, I’m here now. I grab her hips, fingers sinking into her warm, sweaty skin, and line myself up. Her pussy’s hot, wet, and ready, lips puffy and begging to be filled. I push in, slow at first, and holy shit, it’s like sliding into warm velvet, her walls gripping me tight even with all the mess inside.
“OHHH, FUCK!” she moans, loud and raw, popping off Liam’s cock with a wet slurp. Her pussy clenches hard around me, a rush of wetness coating my shaft. “G-Gareth… you feel… different,” she gasps, voice shaky, arse pushing back against me without even thinking. The sound of my hips hitting her cheeks is loud, steady, slap-slap-slap, filling the room. Her pussy’s a furnace, soaked in cum and her own juices, and I can feel every ridge, every pulse of her walls. Is this really my mum?
“Haha, ain’t me fuckin’ you, love,” Gareth says, leaning against the wall, voice dripping with amusement. She freezes, head whipping around, green eyes wide as they crash into mine. Her lips are swollen, spit and pre-cum smeared on her chin, and her face is a mess of shock, confusion, and something else—lust, maybe, or just giving in. “Fuck… J-James?!” she whispers, voice cracking, but she doesn’t pull away. Her pussy tightens, sucking me deeper, and I groan, hands gripping her harder. Did she just say my name?
“Yeah, it’s me,” I mutter, starting to move, slow at first, then harder, cock sliding in and out with wet, filthy sounds. “You like this, don’t you?” Her arse jiggles with every thrust, skin flushed pink, and her moans come faster now, desperate, each one different. “NNGH! OHHH… SHIT, YES!” she cries, voice breaking. “Fuck my pussy, James! Harder!” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I lose it, pounding into her, balls slapping against her clit with every thrust. Clap-clap-clap, the sound’s relentless, mixing with her gasps and my grunts. How did we get here?
Her pussy’s a mess, wet and sticky, lips swollen and red, her juices dripping down her thighs, mixing with sweat and Gareth’s cum. I can feel her cervix when I go really deep, a soft, firm nudge that makes her scream, “AHHH! Fuck, too deep!” but she’s pushing back, meeting every single thrust. Her walls flutter, clenching so tight it’s like she’s trying to milk me dry. “OOOWWWW!” she moans, voice raw, “UMMM… YES, FUCK, DON’T STOP!” Her tits bounce, nipples hard, and sweat beads on her back, trickling down her spine. This can’t be real.
Liam’s still there, stroking himself now, watching with a grin. “Go on, mate, give it to her,” he says, and I don’t even care anymore. I’m completely lost in it, the heat, the wetness, the way her pussy’s squeezing me. “Ohhh… James, I’m… I’m gonna…” she gasps, voice breaking into a whimper, body shaking. I feel it before she says it—her walls clamp down, pulsing, a flood of hot, sticky juice soaking my cock as she comes, moans turning into a high-pitched “AHHHHH!” that echoes in the room. She’s actually coming from me.
I’m close too, balls tight, pressure building. “Fuck, Mum, you’re so tight,” I groan, thrusts wild now, sloppy. Her pussy’s still spasming, sucking me in, and with one last, deep thrust, I lose it. “UGHHH… FUCK!” I grunt, cock pulsing as I come, thick ropes shooting deep inside her, mixing with the mess already there. Her pussy milks me dry, moans softening to whimpers, “Mmm… ohhh, yes…” as she collapses forward, face landing in Liam’s lap, arse still trembling against me. What have I done?
I pull out, cock slick and going soft, a string of cum dripping from her pussy to the rug. She’s panting, body glistening, pussy red and gaping slightly, leaking a cocktail of fluids. “Bloody hell, James,” she whispers, half-laughing, half-shocked, voice hoarse. “What… what was that?”
I don’t answer, just trying to catch my breath, head still spinning. Gareth claps me on the shoulder, grinning. “Proper family bonding, eh?” Liam laughs, and Mum just shakes her head, a tiny smile playing on her lips. What the actual fuck just happened? And why does it feel like this isn’t the end of it?