Sunday afternoon. The digital clock on the microwave mocked me with its slow, agonizing tick. I was sprawled on the worn leather of my armchair, scrolling through the endless abyss of Instagram, desperately seeking… something. Relief from the boredom, a distraction from the creeping existential dread – anything. Then, ping. A message from Mom. Usually, it’s a passive-aggressive reminder to call more often, a recipe for some dish I’m supposedly “missing out on,” or a forwarded chain email riddled with conspiracy theories. This… this was biblical.
My phone practically vibrated out of my hand. It was a picture. A close-up. A very close-up. The soft curve of a breast, the areola a rosy bloom, the delicate hint of a nipple straining against what looked like lace. There was no mistaking it. Mom’s. My brain short-circuited. I stared, transfixed, a weird cocktail of horror and… something else bubbling in my gut.
Before I could fully process the visual assault, another message popped up.
Mom: Oh no! I’m so sorry, Danny. That was supposed to be for your dad. 😳😳😳
The triple-emoji-bomb was a clear SOS signal. I could practically hear her voice, tight with panic. I imagined her face, flushed crimson. A wave of nausea washed over me, quickly followed by a surge of… arousal? God, I was a monster.
I had to say something. Anything to break the tension.
Danny: Haha, no worries, mom. Accidents happen. 😏 Nice view, though.
I instantly regretted hitting send the second the message left my phone. “Nice view”? Seriously? I wanted to crawl under the armchair and die.
Mom: Danny! 🙈 I am absolutely mortified! Please, just forget you saw that. And delete it! I swear to God, if you show anyone…
Danny: Tempting, but I respect the goods too much to share them with just anyone. 😉
I could practically feel her glare through the screen. This was going downhill fast. But a tiny, rebellious part of me was… enjoying this?
Mom: Danny! 😨 Behave yourself! This is your mother you’re talking to!
Danny: Just being honest. Never knew you were hiding such… assets. 😈
Mom: Oh, you wish! 😏 You haven’t seen anything yet.
Her response threw me. Was she… flirting? Accidentally? The “you haven’t seen anything yet” could be innocent, but that sly emoji…
Danny: Is that an invitation? 😜
Mom: Don’t be ridiculous! I’m going to make dinner.
Danny: What’s on the menu? I’m suddenly starving. 🤤
Mom: Lasagna. And none of your cheek.
Danny: Lasagna’s good. But I was thinking… something a little more intimate. 😉
Silence. A long, agonizing silence. I chewed on my lip, waiting. Had I gone too far? Was I about to be disowned? Then, finally:
Mom: I swear, you get your father’s sense of humor.
Danny: Only the good parts, I hope. 😏
Mom: Speaking of your father, I should probably go…
Danny: Not so fast, Momma. I’m just getting started. 😘
Mom: Oh, really? And what exactly do you have in mind Danny? 😈
Danny: I think you already know the answer to that….😏
Mom: You’re such a dirty boy.
Danny: Thanks, I get it from my mama. 😏
Mom: Oh really? Then what exactly do you think I’m thinking about? 😜
Danny: I think you have a pair of lovely tits that need to be sucked on.😈
Mom: You know me so well….😇 I’m gonna go cook dinner, don’t get into any trouble…
Danny: So, I am getting head tonight? 👅
Mom: Danny… 🤫 I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I think we need to set some boundaries. 😳
Danny: Boundaries? With the woman who just sent me a picture of her tits? 🤣 I think those boundaries are already blurred, Mom. 😉
Mom: Danny, I mean it. This isn’t funny anymore. 😒
Danny: Oh, I’m not laughing, Mom. I’m dead serious. 😈 I want you. And I think you want me too.
Mom: Danny, stop. Just stop. 🙅♀️
But I couldn’t stop. I was on a roll, and I couldn’t help myself.
Danny: You know, Mom, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you. 🤤
Mom: Danny, that’s enough! 😡
But I just kept going, my fingers flying across the keyboard.
Danny: I bet you’re thinking about it too, Mom. I bet you’re thinking about how good it would feel to have my cock inside you. 😈
And then, something unexpected happened. Mom responded.
Mom: Danny… 😏 I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I think I need to take a cold shower. 🚿
Danny: Don’t take a shower, Mom. Come over here and take a ride on my cock instead. 🚗
I couldn’t believe what I was saying. I couldn’t believe what I was thinking. But I couldn’t stop myself.
Mom: Danny, I… 🤔 I don’t know what to say.
Danny: Don’t say anything, Mom. Just come over here and let’s fuck. 🚪 Come on, I know you have a wet fanny with all this banter, want to shag your brains out.
As I hit send, I felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with a healthy dose of fear. What was I doing? This was my mom, for crying out loud! But the words kept flowing, and I couldn’t seem to stop them.
Mom: Danny, I don’t know if I should be appalled or turned on. 😳
Danny: How about both? 😉 I want to make you feel things you’ve never felt before, Mom. I want to make you scream my name.
The words were pouring out of me now, and I couldn’t stop them even if I wanted to. I was on a roll, and I wouldn’t stop until I had said everything I wanted to say.
Mom: Danny, you’re making me feel like a dirty slut. 😈
Danny: That’s because you are, Mom. You’re a dirty slut, and I love it. 😏 I want to be the one to make you feel like that, to make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world.
As the messages flew back and forth, the tension between us grew thicker and thicker. I could feel it building, like a storm about to break. And when it finally did, I would be ready.
Mom: Danny, I think I need to come over there. 🚗
Danny: I think that’s a great idea, Mom. 😏 I’ll be waiting for you.
The digital clock ticked on, each second feeling like an hour. I was on edge, a mix of nerves and excitement buzzing through me. Then, a soft knock at the door. My heart leaped. I took a deep breath and opened it.
Mom stood there, looking different. Her cheeks were flushed a deep pink, her eyes darker than usual. She was wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt, but somehow, it looked different, charged. She stepped inside, not saying a word. The air in the apartment felt thick, heavy with unspoken things.
She looked at me, and for a moment, we just stared at each other. Then she took a step closer, and another. I reached out and gently touched her arm. It was warm, softer than I remembered. Her gaze dropped to my lips, and then back up to meet my eyes.
Slowly, I leaned in and kissed her. It was soft at first, tentative. Then she kissed me back, harder, her lips parting. Her hand came up and cupped my cheek, her fingers tangling in my hair. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling, a rush of heat flooding through me. It was forbidden, wrong, and intensely arousing all at once.
We broke apart, both of us breathing heavily. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated. “Danny,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“Mom,” I breathed back, my voice rough.
I kissed her again, pulling her closer, my hands moving to her waist, then lower, cupping her buttocks through her jeans, pulling her tight against me. She moaned softly into my mouth. I could feel her body pressing into mine, her breasts soft against my chest.
I unbuttoned her jeans, my fingers trembling slightly. She didn’t stop me, just watched me with those intense eyes. I pushed the jeans down, revealing white lace panties. I slipped my fingers under the elastic, teasing, before pulling them down too.
Her mound was there, soft and slightly damp, still hidden by a thin triangle of lace. I pushed her gently back against the door, kissing her neck, tasting her skin. She tilted her head back, giving me more access. I reached down and cupped her breast, the one I’d seen in the picture. It was even softer in my hand, the nipple hard and erect under my palm.
I unhooked her bra, letting her breasts spill free. They were beautiful, fuller than I’d imagined, the nipples rosy and begging to be touched. I bent my head and took one nipple in my mouth, sucking and teasing it with my tongue. She gasped, her hands clutching my shoulders tightly.
I moved to the other breast, lavishing attention on it, my hands kneading her flesh. She started to move against me, her hips grinding into mine. My cock throbbed against my jeans, aching for release.
I stepped back slightly and pulled off my shirt, then my jeans. She watched me, her gaze lingering on my hard cock. I moved back to her, pressing my naked body against hers. She gasped again, feeling the length of me against her thigh.
I lifted her slightly and wrapped her legs around my waist, carrying her to the worn armchair. I laid her back gently, her legs still wrapped around me. Her eyes never left mine.
I knelt between her legs, spreading them wider. Her pussy was right there, wet and open, pulsing slightly. I lowered my head and licked her clit, slowly, teasingly. She cried out, her hips bucking off the chair. I lapped at her, sucking and tasting her sweetness, my hands gripping her thighs to hold her still.
She was moaning now, loud, unrestrained moans that filled the small apartment. Her fingers dug into my hair, pulling me closer. “Danny… please…” she gasped.
I moved up, straddling her. Her eyes were half-closed, glazed with desire. I positioned myself at the entrance of her wet pussy, feeling her heat envelop my cock tip. I pushed slowly, inch by inch, feeling her tighten around me. She gasped, her back arching off the chair.
I paused, letting her adjust to my size. Then, with a deep breath, I pushed all the way in. She cried out again, a mix of pleasure and pain. I was deep inside her, buried to the hilt, our bodies locked together.
I stayed still for a moment, letting the feeling wash over me. It was incredible, intense, like nothing I’d ever felt before. Then I started to move, slowly at first, then faster, harder. Her moans turned to screams, her body bucking beneath me.
I watched her face, her eyes wide open now, fixed on mine. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, her breath ragged. She was beautiful, utterly lost in pleasure. I pumped into her, driving deeper with each thrust, feeling her wetness slick around my cock.
The rhythm intensified, a relentless beat thrumming through the air, mirroring the frantic pulse in my veins. Faster, harder, each thrust digging deeper, fueled by the urgent clawing of her nails against my back. Skin scored, breath hitched, she was a live wire beneath me, her body taut with gathering pleasure.
“Ahhh, fuck…” Her moan was raw, guttural, laced with desperate need. “Harder, Danny, fuck me harder, baby.” Each word was a ragged gasp, an explicit command that resonated deep within me. I obeyed, slamming into her, driving myself deeper with each powerful stroke.
“Ughh, yes! Right there, Danny! All the way in!” Her plea was husky, thick with arousal, her voice breaking as she urged me on.
I dipped my head, my breath hot against the delicate shell of her ear. “Like that, Mom?” I growled, the word a deliberate transgression, a spark of forbidden thrill. “Like my cock filling you up?”
Her head tossed against the plush velvet of the chair, a frantic nod. “Yes… Oh God, yes! It feels so damn good!” The words spilled out, uninhibited, raw desire unleashed.
The pace quickened, a frenzy of motion. I pounded into her, the chair legs groaning a strained symphony beneath our combined weight. “Harder?” I grunted, my muscles straining, the question less a query, more a statement of intent. “You want me to pound your pussy harder, Mom?”
“NGHH, yes! Pound it!” she cried out, the explicit demand lost in a strangled moan as her legs wrapped tighter around my waist, her heels digging into my back, drawing me deeper, closer.
The fleshy slap of my balls against her thighs punctuated each thrust, a primal rhythm echoing the frantic beat of our bodies locked together. “You’re so fucking tight, Mom…” I gasped, the friction intense, almost unbearable. “I can’t hold back…”
“Don’t… Not yet, don’t cum yet,” she whimpered, her body trembling beneath mine, on the precipice.
A guttural groan tore from my throat, a battle against my own surging release. I gritted my teeth, focusing solely on her pleasure, willing myself to hold back. “Hold on tight, Mom,” I managed, my voice strained, barely a whisper.
Her hands became claws on my back, gripping, pulling, demanding more. “UHH… Danny, I’m close… So close!” Her words were fractured, on the verge of shattering.
My hips slammed into her with renewed ferocity, each thrust precisely aimed, hitting that sweet spot that sent shivers rippling through her. “Come for me, Mom. Let go.” The words were a release in themselves, a permission granted, a mutual surrender.
Her back arched off the chair, a dramatic arc of pure sensation. Her core clenched around my cock in a vise-like grip, a hot, wet glove tightening and squeezing with each pulse of her climax. “OOHH, Danny!” she screamed, her orgasm ripping through her, a raw, untamed sound of pure ecstasy.
Feeling her convulse around me, I shattered. Pumping into her with unrestrained force, my cock throbbed with each surge of release. “Fuck, I’m cumin! Inside you…”
“Nghh, filling you up, Mom,” I growled, my hips jerking forward in a final, desperate spasm as I emptied myself deep within her.
“Oh, Danny!” she cried out again, her voice caught between shock and pure, unadulterated bliss. “Yes, all the way in—your hot cum… UNGHH!”
My cock pulsed within her, each contraction of my orgasm met by the fierce squeezing of her cunt, milking me dry, extracting every last drop of pleasure. The wet squelch of our bodies joined, the slick, intimate sounds of our union, filled the room, as raw and visceral as the moans that still escaped her lips. She quivered beneath me, clenching and releasing around my throbbing dick, drawing out every last lingering moment of sensation.
I collapsed atop her, the chair groaning its final protest, both of us slick with sweat, chests heaving, breath ragged. “That’s it, Mom,” I rasped, my breath hot against her ear, possessive. “Take it all in.”
Her arms tightened around me, holding me impossibly close, our hearts pounding a frantic, synchronized rhythm against each other. “Danny, that… that was…” she trailed off, breathless, words failing her.
I pulled out slowly, deliberately, watching my thick cum leak from her, a glistening trail tracing a path down her thigh. “You’re amazing,” I breathed, pressing a gentle kiss to her damp forehead. “So damn amazing.”
“We’re… we’re bad,” she giggled, the sound shaky, a heady mix of awe and mischief. “But it was so good. UNGH, so good.”
We lay tangled and spent, the afternoon sun painting stripes of light through the drawn curtains, casting a forbidden glow over our illicit embrace. She looked up at me, her eyes softened, pupils dilated, still shimmering with the afterglow. “Danny… don’t you dare tell anyone about this.”
I smiled, a slow, secretive curve of my lips, brushing a stray strand of hair from her flushed cheek. “Never, Mom. Our secret.”
She nodded, her gaze dropping to her still-soaked pussy, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “Look at the mess,” she murmured, a hint of pride in her voice, a testament to the intensity of our encounter.
I reached for a discarded towel, cleaning her gently, reverently. “Messy, but so worth it,” I said, helping her sit up, my hands lingering on her bare skin.
She stood, legs still slightly shaky, a lingering tremor from the intensity of her orgasm. “Help me get dressed, will you?” she asked, her voice still husky, thick with the recent passion.
My hands were reverent as I slipped her panties and jeans back on, my fingers tracing the curve of her hip, the swell of her ass, a silent promise hanging in the air. She caught my hand as I fastened her jeans. “You’re something else, Danny.”
“And you,” I countered, leaning in to kiss her again, a slow, lingering press of lips against lips. “Are unforgettable.”
As she straightened her top, she met my gaze, a sly smile playing on her lips, a hint of power rekindling in her eyes. “Next time,” she purred, “I’ll be the one in charge.”
“Can’t wait,” I replied, a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, the understanding of our taboo dance deepening.
She patted my cheek, a light, playful touch, her eyes shining with shared secret knowledge. “Behave ’til then, you naughty boy.”
With a last lingering look, a silent promise exchanged, she was gone, out the door, leaving me breathless, aching, wanting more. But for now, I leaned back into the velvet chair, the scent of her, the taste of her, still lingering on my skin, a slow grin spreading across my face. The microwave clock, no longer silently mocking, now ticked away, counting down to our next stolen, secret encounter. The air was thick with the lingering scent of sex, and the intoxicating promise of more to come.