She slipped outside the community centre on a wet Thursday afternoon. Her wrist caught all her weight, and the bone cracked loud enough for the man walking behind her to gasp. I found out from her neighbour, who texted me a blurry photo of Mum in the back of an ambulance, still in her long camel coat, her face half-laughing like she was trying to brush it off. That was Mum all over—elegant, even in pain.
She needed someone to stay with her. I was between jobs. My flat was cold and full of takeout containers. So I packed a bag and came back home, just like that.
The first night, she sat on the edge of her bed in a silk slip I didn’t recognize—pale blue, thin straps, loose across her chest, with one side fallen off her shoulder. Her arm was wrapped in that stiff white cast, fingers poking out swollen and a little purple. She couldn’t lift it at all. I stood in the doorway holding the painkillers and some water, unsure whether to knock, even though the door was open.
“Could you help with my back?” she asked, like she was asking me to pass the salt. “I can’t do the clasp.”
The words didn’t hit me right away. Then I saw it—the slip gaping low at the back, the thin fabric just barely holding together. Her shoulder blades sharp, the line of her spine soft. I’d never seen that much of her skin before. Not like that. I was twenty-four. She was fifty-two. But in that moment, she didn’t look old. She looked… still. Paused. A little breathless from the pain. And something about that stillness made my chest tighten.
I helped with the clasp. Fumbled with it, really. My fingers shook. I told myself it was just the stress, the long day. She said nothing, just waited.
After that, things settled into a rhythm. I made tea in the morning. Burned toast. Drove her to physio. Took her to the loo when she needed. She had to sit sideways in the car so her arm wouldn’t jostle. I started noticing things—how much effort it took her to pull a sweater over her head with one hand, the way she winced when she bent even a little. The cast made everything harder. She couldn’t fasten her bra. Couldn’t cut food. Couldn’t wash her hair.
So I did it.
First time, I helped her into the bath. She looked embarrassed as I helped undress her. Especially when I took her bra and knickers off. Her pussy was well hairy, also her tits were so good. I joked, “Bloody hell mum, your very bushy.”
She laugh, “Cheeky shit, not like I can… shave it.”
Not sure why I said it but I did, “I can shave it for you after your bath. I shave Amy’s all the time.”
She laughed, “Amy is your girlfriend I am your mum.”
“I know, Mum,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “But it’s not like I haven’t seen a woman’s body before. I’m a grown man, you know.”
She gave me a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. “I’m well aware of that, dear. But you’re still my son, and there are some things that should remain private.”
I nodded, feeling a bit sheepish my dick hardening thinking about it. “Of course. I just thought it might make things easier for you, that’s all.”
She chuckled noticing my hard on, “I am not shaving in the bath so my hair is floating around. Maybe after my bath in my room.”
After her bath, she wrapped herself in a soft towel, her damp hair clinging to her neck. I turned away, giving her some privacy as she dried off. When she was ready, she called out to me, and I entered her room, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Alright, let’s do this,” she said, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
I nodded, trying to stay calm. I grabbed the shaving cream and razor from her bathroom, and she lay down on her bed, her towel still wrapped around her.
I lifted the towel to access her vagina, I opened her legs slightly and spread shaving foam over her mound.
I carefully began shaving her, my hand shaking slightly as I tried to focus on the task at hand. I could feel her watching me, her eyes probably darting between my face and the razor moving over her most intimate area.
“You know, I never thought I’d be in this position,” she said, her voice soft and a little shaky. “Having my son shave me.”
“Me neither, Mum,” I replied, my voice a little hoarse my cock hard as fuck, she stared at my erection. “But I’m glad I can help you. Oh god, you have a nice… pussy.”
I continued shaving her, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel her watching me, her eyes probably darting between my face and the razor moving over her most intimate area. Her pussy was smooth and soft under my fingers, and I couldn’t help but notice how it glistened in the light. I tried to ignore the fact that my own mother was lying naked before me, her body exposed and vulnerable.
“There,” I said, finally stepping back. “All done. Here is a little kiss.” I kissed her bald smooth pussy nice and slow.
I stepped back, feeling a mix of emotions. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t believe what I had just done. I had shaved my mother’s most intimate area, and now I was staring at her naked body, her breasts full and round, her pussy smooth and inviting.
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with surprise. “What was that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I… I just wanted to make sure it was done properly,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. “And I… I couldn’t help myself.”
She stared at me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed and shook her head. “Well, it’s done now. And I appreciate your help.”
I nodded, still unable to look away from her. “Mum, you’re… you’re beautiful,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.
She blushed, her cheeks turning pink. “Thank you, dear. But I’m still your mother, and we shouldn’t be doing this.”
But I wanted to do it again, I leaned down and kissed her clit. I sucked on her labia and started to eat her out.
The room was silent as I continued to explore my mother’s body with my mouth. I could feel her tense up, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I moved my tongue in slow, deliberate circles around her clit. She let out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair.
“Michael, we shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Ahhh honey.”
As I continued to eat her out, I could feel my mother’s body responding to my touch. Her hips began to move in rhythm with my tongue, and her breathing grew shallow and ragged. I knew I was doing something wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. While eating her pussy I undid my jeans and zip. I started to stroke my dick while still munching on mums vulva.
I stopped licking as she saw me jerking my dick, “Mum… my dicks hard. What… what should I do. Do… do you want it.” I climbed on top of her. She looked down her body and saw my cock throbbing with need at her slit.
My heart was racing as I waited for her response. I could feel my cock throbbing with need, pressed against her warm, wet pussy. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and desire.
“Michael,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “We can’t do this. You’re my son.”
Without saying a word, I pushed my cock inside her pussy. All she did was hold my hips and look at her pussy as my cock slid in and out. She was mesmerized by my cock fucking her vagina. I leaned forward while still pumping her with cock the bed stared to squeak. I rolled my tongue around one of her areolas.
“Oh, God,” she cried out, her back arching off the bed. “You… you sure know… ahhh how to use that thing. Oh yes… suck my tits while you… f… fuck me.”
Mum let out a loud moan as I slammed my cock deep inside her. Her pussy gripped me tight, the heat and wetness enveloping my erect shaft. I groaned at the sensation, the tightness a welcome change from my usual encounters with Amy.
“Oh, fuck Michael,” Mum whimpered, her hands grasping at my back. “Your cock feels so good inside me.”
I pulled out slowly, savoring the feel of her slick walls around my dick. Then I plunged back in, setting a fast, hard pace. The bed creaked beneath us as I pounded her, my balls slapping against her ass with each thrust.
Mum’s creaminess coated my cock, making every stroke smoother and more pleasurable. Her heavy breasts bounced with each impact, the light-colored areolas beckoning me closer. I leaned down to capture one nipple between my lips, sucking hard as I continued to fuck her.
“Yes, yes, suck them!” she moaned, arching her back to press her tits against my mouth. “Your cock is hitting all the right spots. Don’t stop, baby, keep fucking me.”
As I continued to pound my mother’s moist pussy, her moans grew louder and more urgent. “Yes, yes, fuck me harder! I want to feel every inch of your cock inside me,” she begged, her hands clinging to my back as if trying to pull me deeper.
I obliged, my hips snapping forward with increased vigor. The bed seemed to vibrate beneath us, the wood groaning in protest at the intense rhythm. Sweat dripped down my face, mingling with the taste of her skin as I sucked and nibbled on her nipples. Each flick of my tongue sent shivers through her body, her whole frame quivering with pleasure.
“Mmm, yes, just like that,” she panted, her breathing ragged and shallow. “You’re so deep, Michael… It feels amazing. Don’t stop, please don’t ever stop.”
I couldn’t help but respond to her begging, my cock throbbing with need as it pistoned in and out of her slick, hot depths. The sensation of her walls clenching around me, milking my shaft with each thrust, was indescribable. I felt like I was losing myself in her, the world narrowing down to just the two of us, the clash of our bodies, and the primal urge to claim her completely.
“My god, Mum, you’re so tight… So wet… I’ve never felt anything like this,” I gasped, my words punctuated by the slap of my hips against her ass. “I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”
“I don’t want you to,” she whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed as she surrendered to the onslaught of pleasure. “Give it to me, Michael… Fill me up with your cum. I need it, baby… I need to feel you come inside me.”
Those words, spoken with such raw desperation and hunger, pushed me over the edge. With a guttural groan, I buried myself to the hilt, my cock pulsing as I unleashed a torrent of hot semen deep within her quivering depths. I could feel her pussy clamping down, milking every last drop from my throbbing shaft.
“Fuck, yes! Oh, Michael… I can feel it,” she moaned, her voice a breathy, ecstatic chant. “So much… So warm inside me… Oh, thank you, baby… Thank you for this…”
As the final waves of my orgasm subsided, I collapsed beside her, my chest heaving with exertion. Mum curled into my side, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of our mutual climax. We lay there in silence, the only sounds the heavy patter of rain against the windows and the soft, ragged gasps of our exhausted breathing.
After a while, Mum stirred, her hand drifting down to gently cup my still-hard cock. “You know, I never imagined this is how we’d end up,” she said, her voice tinged with a mix of wonder and a hint of sadness. “But… I’m glad it happened. You made me feel so alive, Michael… So desired… Even after all these years.”
I swallowed hard, trying to process the depth of emotion in her words. “Mum, I… I don’t know what came over me,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never felt this way before… About anyone. It’s wrong, I know that. But when I saw you there, so vulnerable and in pain, something just snapped inside me.”
She looked up at me, her eyes shining with a strange intensity. “Perhaps it was always there, waiting to emerge,” she suggested, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my abdomen. “Maybe our roles have simply been reversed, and now it’s you who needs me in a way I never provided before.”
I frowned, trying to understand the logic behind her words. “I don’t know about that, Mum. But I do know that I can’t go back to normal now. And I don’t think you can either.”
She nodded, a sly smile playing on her lips. “No, I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to make this work… For both of us.”
As she spoke, her hand continued its journey downward, her fingers wrapping around my still-rigid cock once more. I gasped, my body instinctively responding to her touch even as my mind raced with the implications of our actions.
“Mum, we should probably… I don’t know, clean up or something,” I suggested, my voice strained with a mix of desire and uncertainty.
She chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, I don’t think so, dear,” she purred, guiding my cock back to her wet, ready entrance. “I think we’ve just begun to explore the possibilities… And I, for one, am more than eager to see where this journey takes us. Because now I have had a taste of that big cock, I want more.”