The Lonely Night

I let out a heavy sigh as I settled onto the couch, my nightie riding up to expose the curve of my ass cheeks. The cool night air did nothing to soothe the ache between my legs that had been my constant companion for years now. Since the divorce, my cheating bastard of an ex-husband walked out without looking back. Five long years it’s been. Five years of loneliness, of watching my body wither away, untouched and unloved.

I tipped back the bottle of red wine, the rich liquid sliding down my throat and warming my chest. Maybe if I drank enough, I could forget, just for a little while. Forget how dry my pussy had become, how my tits yearned to be groped. I ran my free hand over the swell of my heavy breasts, my nipples already stiffening beneath the thin fabric. “Fuck,” I whispered. It had been so long…

The sound of the front door opening snapped me out of my drunken reverie. Andrew was home. My baby boy. The only man in my life these days. I should have got up, greeted him, but the couch was too comfortable and the wine was too good. I stayed put, listening as he shuffled through the entryway.

A moment later he appeared in the living room, briefcase in hand and a suit that was rumpled from a long day at the office. “Hey Mom,” he said, setting down his things and sinking into the armchair across from me. His eyes flicked over my barely-covered body before quickly averting. “You’re…um…you’re looking good tonight.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “Oh please, I’m a mess. You’re just too tired to notice.” I took another swig of wine for good measure. “How was your day? Anything exciting happens?”

Andrew shrugged, running a hand through his hair the way he always did when he was thinking. “The usual. Meetings and reports. Although…” He trailed off and I lifted an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. “Although apparently, some new girl is starting in accounting next week. She’s a total knockout.”

I snorted. “Oh, I’m sure she is. Young and perky and probably never has to deal with a pussy so dry it might as well be the Sahara.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. The wine was loosening my tongue in dangerous ways.

I could feel Andrew’s eyes on me again, his gaze lingering on my cleavage and the exaggerated curve of my hips. “Mom, please,” he said, but there was no real admonishment in his voice. If anything, he sounded almost breathless.

I took another sip of wine, the rich flavour bursting on my tongue. Liquid courage, that’s what I needed. “What? It’s the truth. No one wants a worn-out old cougar like me.” I let my hand drift lower, skimming over my stomach and coming to rest just above the hem of my nightie.

Andrew made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Mom, you’re not…I mean, you’re still really sexy. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

I met his gaze, my own eyes heavy-lidded. “Is that so? I don’t see them queueing up, do you? God I could do with a damn good seeing too… erm ignore that part.”

“I wish I could help, I mean if I wasn’t your son trust me…” he stopped himself.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Did he just say what I thought he did? ‘Help’? Was my sweet baby boy actually offering to fuck his own mother? I searched his face, trying to gauge his sincerity. He looked completely earnest, his cheeks flushed and his eyes dark with a hunger I’d never seen before.

“Andrew,” I breathed, my voice husky with need. “You can’t say things like that. It’s not right.”

He shrugged, leaning forward in his chair. “I mean if I wasn’t. Any way why not? It’s not like either of us are getting any action from anyone else. And you’re my mom. I just want to make you feel good.”

My cunt clenched at his words, a painful throb of desire. I was so wet already, my pussy practically weeping for his touch. It would be so easy to just spread my legs and let him see how much I wanted him.

“Andrew,” I said again, but this time there was no protest in my voice. Only longing. “Baby, I…I don’t know if I can hold back. It’s been so long, I need it so badly.”

In a flash, he was on the couch, kneeling between my thighs. His hands skimmed up my sides, pushing my nightie up and exposing my heavy breasts to his hungry gaze. “Fuck, Mom,” he groaned. “Your tits…they’re perfect.”

I arched into his touch, my nipples straining towards his fingers. “Please,” I whimpered. “Touch them. I need your hands on me.”

He complied eagerly, cupping the weight of my breasts and thumbing my nipples. I cried out, my back bowing off the couch. It felt so good, too good. I was going to come untouched if he kept this up.

“Andrew,” I panted. “I need more. I need you to fuck me, baby. I’m so empty, so dry. You have to fill me up.”

He didn’t hesitate, shoving my nightie up around my hips and exposing my dripping cunt to the cool air. “Jesus, Mom,” he whispered, his fingers tracing through my slick folds. “You’re so wet. And your pussy…it’s so tight.”

I was beyond caring about anything but the ache in my core. “Please, I was dry before but your words made me soaking,” I begged. “Just push in, stretch me open. I need your cock so bad.”

With a groan, Andrew freed his thick shaft from his pants. I watched through hooded eyes as he positioned himself at my entrance, the swollen head of his cock nudging against my clit. Then, with a swift thrust, he was inside me, spearing me open on his impressive length.

I screamed, my cunt clamping down around him like a vice. He was so big, stretching me in ways I hadn’t been stretched in years. It burned but in the best possible way. “Fuck,” I gasped. “You feel so good, baby. Don’t stop.”

And he didn’t. Andrew set a brutal pace, pounding into me with a force that rocked the couch. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, mingling with my wanton moans and his grunts of pleasure. It was filthy, wrong, so deliciously taboo. My son was fucking me, and I’d never felt more alive.

“Harder,” I demanded, raking my nails down his back. “Make me cum, Andrew. Make Mommy’s pussy cum on your cock.”

He obliged, his thrusts becoming urgent and sloppy. The pressure was building low in my belly, coiling tighter with each slam of his hips. “I’m gonna come,” Andrew panted. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. You want that, Mom? You want my cum in your needy cunt?”

“Yes,” I keened. “Please, baby. Give it to me. Breed me like the bitch in heat I am.”

With a roar, Andrew buried himself to the hilt and emptied his balls deep in my cunt. The sensation of his hot seed flooding my channel pushed me over the edge. I came with a scream, my pussy rippling and milking his cock for every last drop.

We collapsed together, his softening length still plugging me up, our mingled fluids dripping down my thighs. “That was…” Andrew started, then seemed to lose his train of thought.

“Incredible,” I finished for him, running my fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “We shouldn’t have done that, baby. But god, it was so good. You made Mommy feel so good.”

He lifted his head to meet my gaze, his eyes bright with emotion. “I love you, Mom. I’ll always take care of you, no matter what.”

I smiled, my heart full to bursting. “I love you too, Andrew. Now, how about we take this to the bedroom for round two? I’m still a little…unsatisfied.”