On a Sunday night, I was in bed reading a book next to my sleeping husband when my phone buzzed. I picked it up, and it was a text from Adam. I was confused as to why my son was texting me at this time of night, especially when he was in the room next door to me. I opened the message and was shocked to see the message: “I wanna ram this bad boy in your sexy minge.” Followed by an image of his rock-hard, big cock. I was taken aback, as it was bigger than his father’s.
I was about to text back, but he sent another message: “Omg I am so sorry, delete it. That was meant for Jessica, my girlfriend.” I felt a mix of emotions – embarrassment, anger, and confusion. I went back at the image and stared at it. My boy is a big boy now wow it looks so big.
I didn’t delete it. My thumb hovered over the button, but I couldn’t press it. It was wrong, I knew. So wrong.
But I kept looking. It filled the screen. Hard and thick. How could he have something like that? My son.
I imagined Jessica seeing it. She was a lucky girl. A flush spread over my cheeks. I felt hot under the covers.
My husband shifted beside me. He murmured something in his sleep. I pulled the phone closer, hiding the screen.
What was I supposed to do? Pretend I never saw it? Reply? My mind raced. This was Adam. My son. I decided to text him back.
I typed: “Adam, are you awake? I think you sent me something by mistake.”
My finger trembled as I hit send. It felt like I was crossing a line, but I couldn’t stop myself. My heart hammered in my chest, a strange mix of dread and anticipation.
His reply came instantly, a flurry of texts. “Oh my God, Mom, I’m so, so sorry! Please, delete it! It was an accident! I’m so embarrassed.”
Another text followed: “Seriously, Mom, please delete it right now. I don’t know what to say.”
I knew I should just say “okay” and delete it. But I didn’t. I looked at the image again, still there, bold and inescapable. He wanted me to delete it, but the thought of it being gone made something inside me protest.
“It’s okay, Adam. Just be more careful. Accidents happen, by the way very impressive. Your dads a sleep by the way I am bored reading a book.” I typed, trying to sound calm and maternal. My voice in my head was anything but. It was breathless.
His reply was instant. “Mom! Oh my god… I didn’t mean… um… thanks? I guess.” He added a nervous, laughing emoji.
My stomach fluttered. He picked up on it. He actually accepted the compliment.
“Yes, I saw it,” I typed back. “Hard to miss, isn’t it?” I tried to keep my tone light, almost teasing. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. This was so dangerous.
Another text from him popped up. “So, you’re really not going to delete it?”
I paused, looking at the image again. It was still there, glowing on the screen. The smooth skin, the size, the way it… jutted.
“Do you want me to?” I typed. A small, wicked part of me wanted to see what he’d say.
Adam’s response was a long pause. Then, “I don’t know, Mom. It’s just… embarrassing.”
“I think you’re overthinking it,” I wrote, my heart thudding. “It was an accident. We’re both adults.” Was I really saying this? To my son?
“Are we?” he replied. The emoji was a wide-eyed, slightly bewildered face.
I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. My husband stirred again, and I held my breath. He was still deep asleep.
“Well, you are,” I texted. “And I certainly am. Don’t worry about it.” I added, “Seriously, though. Jessica is a lucky girl.”
I waited. The silence from his end stretched. It felt like an eternity. I wondered if I’d pushed too far. Maybe he’d finally be disgusted and stop.
But then, his text came. “You really think so? Don’t be mad but did I turn you on.”
My heart leaped into my throat. He really asked that. My son.
A new, deeper kind of heat flooded through me. My skin felt tight.
I glanced at my husband. Still deep asleep. Thank God.
My mind raced. How could I answer this?
Say no. Say it’s wrong. Tell him to stop.
But the words wouldn’t come.
I looked at the image again. His cock. Staring back at me.
It was still there. I hadn’t deleted it.
My fingers hovered. I typed something, then deleted it instantly.
This was it. The line was gone.
I took a shaky breath.
What did he want to hear? And what did I want to tell him?
I typed: “Why do you ask, Adam?”
It felt like a silly question. But my mind was blank. My heart beat so hard I thought he might hear it from his room.
The reply came almost instantly.
He just sent a thinking emoji.
Then another text: “Just curious, Mom. Did I?”
He was pushing. And I was letting him.
My breath hitched. The screen glowed, his question burning into my eyes. He was waiting. I knew he was.
My fingers trembled over the keyboard. This was it. The moment I either shut it down or… didn’t.
I couldn’t lie. Not entirely. Not when I felt this way.
“It’s… a lot to take in,” I typed, then paused. Too vague?
I deleted it.
My heart hammered. He was my son. But it wasn’t feeling like a mother-son conversation anymore. Not with that image still in front of me.
I pictured Jessica again. And then, horrifyingly, I pictured myself.
“Let’s just say it’s very… impactful,” I wrote, trying to choose words that were true without being too explicit. My cheeks were on fire.
I pressed send.
His reply was a single word: “Impactful?”
Followed by another: “In a good way, Mom?”
“Yes, Adam,” I typed, my fingers hovering. “In a very… noticeable way.” I swallowed hard. My mouth was dry.
He sent a smiling emoji. A devilish one. It made my stomach clench.
“So,” he texted. “You thought it was big?”
My breath hitched. He was going right for it. No more beating around the bush.
“Bigger than I expected,” I admitted, my voice a whisper even though I was typing.
Another pause. My heart thrummed against my ribs.
Then: “Good to know, Mom.”
It felt like a punch to the gut, but not a bad one. A dizzying one.
“What are you doing up, Adam?” I typed, trying to pull back, just a little. “It’s late.”
“Just thinking,” he replied. “About… stuff.”
I knew what stuff. I could feel the heat radiating from the phone screen.
“About Jessica?” I asked, testing the waters.
“Partly,” he said. “But… I’m thinking about what you said too.”
My eyes went back to the image. It had been there for so long, burning into my vision.
“What did I say?” I asked, playing dumb. My core pulsed.
“That Jessica is a lucky girl,” he replied. “And… that it was ‘impactful’.”
I felt a shiver run down my spine. He was echoing my words back to me.
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” I typed, the words coming out bolder than I intended.
“Is it?” he asked. “You really think so?” There was a slight hesitation in his next text. “You’ve seen… others, right?”
My cheeks flamed. Was he asking about his dad?
“Adam!” I typed back, trying to inject some shock into my tone. But it was weak.
“Just asking, Mom,” he wrote, followed by a blushing emoji. “You said we’re adults.”
My husband snored softly beside me. I pulled the phone even closer, hiding its glow completely under the covers.
“Yes, we are,” I whispered to myself. My fingers poised.
“And you’re a woman,” he added. “You know… what’s what. By the way it’s still hard, I am in bed naked, sorry.”
My cheeks burned. Naked. In his bed. Still hard.
My son.
The air in the room felt thick, hot. My husband shifted again, a soft sigh escaping his lips. I clutched the phone, my knuckles white.
“Adam!” I typed, the exclamation mark feeling weak even to me. “You shouldn’t be telling me that.”
His reply was instant. “Why not, Mom? You asked if I was awake. I am. And I’m still thinking about it.”
“About what?” I typed, even though I knew. My heart was a drum against my ribs.
“About what you said,” he texted back. “About it being impactful. And big.”
My face felt like it would melt off. My husband let out another soft snore, oblivious in the dark.
“Adam,” I typed, my fingers hovering. “We shouldn’t talk like this.”
“But we are,” he replied. A simple statement. A truth I couldn’t deny. “It’s just texts, Mom.”
A shiver, not from cold, ran through me. Just texts. But they felt so real. So hot.
“Yes, just texts,” I wrote, trying to sound nonchalant. It was a lie. My body was humming. I then sent another, “besides, I have your dad snoring next to me. What are you doing now.”
“Just lying here, Mom,” he texted back instantly. “Still hard and bored can’t sleep. Come tire me out if you like haha.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Come tire me out if you like haha.” The words hung in the air, even though they were just on a screen.
My son. My son.
My hand flew to my mouth, stifling a gasp. My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild drumbeat. He couldn’t be serious. Could he?
The “haha” was like a shield, making it a joke. But it didn’t feel like a joke to me. Not with that image still burned into my mind.
My body felt hot, a flush spreading from my chest up to my neck. My husband stirred beside me, a soft snuffle. I froze, holding my breath. He was still asleep. Good.
What was I supposed to say? The line was not just blurred, it was obliterated.
I typed, then deleted. Typed again. My fingers trembled.
“Adam,” I typed, trying to infuse shock into the words. “That’s… quite a suggestion.” I added a nervous emoji, trying to match his lighthearted “haha.” It felt completely fake.
His reply was instant. “Just kidding, Mom! Mostly. But seriously, I’m bored.”
“Bored enough to suggest that?” I typed back, trying to sound a little stern, but my voice in my head was weak. I was still looking at the picture of him.
“Well, you said you were bored too,” he countered. “Reading a book. Dad’s asleep. Just saying.”
My stomach did a flip. He was so bold. So direct. My own son. Even my pussy started to react against my thoughts, was he starting to sext with me. So I played along and I am not sure why.
I felt a rush of excitement and guilt as I typed back,” Adam, you know that’s not appropriate. I’m your mother. Let’s pretend I came into your room, then what?” But even as I sent the message, I couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through my body at his suggestion.
Adam’s reply came quickly, his words appearing on the screen with a soft buzz. “If you came into my room… depends?”
“Depends on what, Adam?” I typed back, my heart racing. I couldn’t believe I was continuing this conversations with my own son.
If you came into my room… depends? “Depends on what, Adam?” I typed back, my heart racing. I couldn’t believe I was continuing this conversations with my own son.
His reply was immediate, the words appearing on the screen with a soft buzz. “Well, Mom, if you came in and found me like this…hard and bored…” He paused, and then added a winking emoji. “Maybe I’d ask you to help me out. At the same time helping you at if dads snoring, again.”
“What about Jessica,” I quickly text back. Wait why did I say that like I was considering it.
Adam’s reply came swiftly, the words appearing on the screen with a soft buzz.”Jessica’s not here, Mom. You are.”
My heart skipped a beat. Hewas right. Jessica wasn’t here.It was just me and him… and our phones. “And you’re bored,” he added, another winking emoji popping up on the screen.
I bit my lip, staring at the messages. This was wrong, so wrong. But my body felt alive in a way it hadn’t in years.
“So what if I am?” Ityped back, trying to sound nonchalant despite the racing of my heart.
Adam’s response was immediate. “So maybe you should do something about it. I am not texting anymore, if you come to my room you come.”
My heart races as I read his final message. The invitation hangs in the air, daring and tempting. I glance at my husband, his snores steady and deep. The house is silent except for the soft glow of my phone screen.
I should ignore it. I should delete the messages, pretend this never happened. But my body feels wired, every nerve ending alive with a forbidden energy.
Slowly, quietly, I pulled up my nightgown and took of my panties. I slip out of bed. My feet pad softly on the carpet as I make my way to Adam’s room. Each step feels like a betrayal, but also an inevitability.
As I reached Adam’s bedroom I entered quietly, “Hey Adam honey.”
“Mom?” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You actually came. You just going to stand there or get into my bed.”
I walked over to his bed and got under the covers with him, was I really doing this. He instantly rolled his naked body on top of me and started fiercely kissing my neck. I felt his hand push my nightie up and then he slid is cock up and down my puffy slit and then… rammed it up me.
“Adam,” I gasped, digging my nails into his back. “We shouldn’t… oh god…” But my words trailed off into a moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of my pussy.
He kissed me fiercely, “Shh,” he murmured against my lips. “Dad’s asleep. It’s just us. Fuck your pussy feels so good.”
Adam’s hips moved in a steady rhythm, his thick cock sliding in and out of my wet pussy. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, my hands gripping his shoulders tightly. The sensation of him inside me was overwhelming – he was so big, filling me completely.
“You’re so tight, Mom,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” I couldn’t believe it either. My son was fucking me, his hard cock pumping in and out of my aching pussy. It was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so good.
“Adam,” I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “We have to be quiet.”
Adam smirked, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. “You’re the one making all the noise, Mom,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. He thrust his hips forward, burying himself deeper inside me. “I think Dad’s gonna hear you if you keep moaning like that. Ah fuck, I could get use to this.”
He kept thrusting into me, his hips moving faster and faster. The bed creaked softly with each movement, a rhythmic squeak that seemed to fill the room. “Fuck, Mom,” he whispered, his voice strained. “Your pussy is so wet. It’s dripping all over my cock. Come on Mom take my cock unnngh.”
Adam’s words sent a shiver down my spine, his dirty talk only fuelling the fire burning inside me. I couldn’t hold back the moaning any longer.
I threw my head back against the pillow, my moans echoing in the quiet room. “Oh god, Adam,” I gasped, my nails digging into his back. “You feel so good inside me. Don’t stop. Pound ahhh pound mommy.”
Adam’s thrusts grew more urgent, his hips slapping against mine with each deep stroke. I could feel every inch of his hard cock as it plunged into my dripping pussy, the sensation overwhelming my senses.
“Mom, I’m getting close,” he panted, his breath hot against my neck. “You feel so fucking good. I can’t hold back.”
My own orgasm building with each thrust. “Don’t stop, Adam. Please… ah baby don’t cum yet.”
He slowed down just a little, he squeezed my tits through my nightie, “Ok I won’t rush. Can I… you know, suck your tits while fucking you.”
I nodded, my mouth dry. “Yes, Adam. Suck my tits.” My nipples hardened at the thought of his mouth on them. I pushed my nightie up, exposing my breasts to him.
Adam latched onto my nipple, his mouth hot and eager. He sucked hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hips continued their steady rhythm. The dual sensations – his cock pounding into my pussy and his mouth on my nipple – were almost too much to bear. I arched my back, pressing my breast further into his mouth. “Oh god, Adam,” I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Harder baby please.”
As Adam suckled at my breast, his cock continued to thrust into my wet pussy. I could feel him getting closer, his hips stuttering with each push. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper inside me.
“Adam, you’re going to make me cum,” I gasped, my breath coming in short pants. He went faster and faster, pounding my poor pussy I was going to squirt over my sons cock and soak his bed.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop. “Adam only picked up the pace, his hips slamming into mine with a desperate urgency. “Cum for me, Mom,” he growled against my nipple. “I want to feel you squirt on my cock.”
The filthy words sent me over the edge. My body convulsed, my pussy spasming around Adam’s cock as I came hard. I squirted all over his dick, the warm liquid coating his shaft and balls. My moans turned into high-pitched whimpers as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.
Adam’s cock twitched inside me, his own orgasm approaching. “Fuck, Mom, I’m gonna cum,” he grunted, his hips stuttering. “You feel so good. So tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”
He slammed into me one last time, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside my spasming pussy. I felt his hot cum filling me up, coating my insides with his seed. It was a strange, taboo thrill, knowing that my son had just filled me with his cum.
We lay there for a moment, panting and trembling in the aftermath of our illicit encounter. I could feel Adam’s softening cock still buried inside me, his cum leaking out around it.
“Wow,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “That was… intense.” I couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Adam grinned against my neck, his breath hot against my skin. “Told you, Mom. You’re a wild one.” He nuzzled into my cleavage, his hands still roaming over my body. “Maybe we should do this more often.”
I didn’t answer him I just got out of his bed and made my way to his door. I looked behind me and said, “get to sleep now Adam it’s late.” I made my way back to bed, my husband was still snoring after our son had just fucked me. I got a text from Adam, “Thanks Mom I needed that, good night.”
I eventually got into my own bed. My husband still out of it unware that I had just been used by our son. What have I done? But fuck it felt good.