The anticipation was a live wire humming beneath my skin, buzzing in my veins like a shot of pure adrenaline. Just Mom and me, a whole week alone in a secluded cabin nestled deep in the woods. It was the perfect setup, almost too perfect. For years, ever since puberty hit me like a freight train, Mom had been… well, Mom had always been Mom, but somewhere along the line, she’d morphed into something else in my eyes. Something… desirable.
I know, I know. Sick, twisted, wrong. Those words have echoed in the back of my mind, battling with the raw, primal urge that clenched my jaw and tightened my groin whenever she walked into a room. It wasn’t her fault, not entirely. Mom was just… naturally stunning. Even at 53, she had this youthful glow that defied her age. Her dark brunette hair cascaded down her back, always perfectly styled even when she claimed to just “throw it up.” Her body… God, her body. She was busty, incredibly so, and she knew it. And she wasn’t shy about showing it off either. Low-cut tops that showcased her impressive cleavage, and tight jeans that hugged her long, shapely legs – it was like she was deliberately trying to torture me, even though I knew, logically, she wasn’t. But logic had little power against the tidal wave of hormones crashing through my eighteen-year-old body.
Lately, things have been… different. Ever since Dad passed away last year, a shadow of grief had clung to Mom. She’d become quieter, and more withdrawn, and there was a palpable loneliness etched in her beautiful features. But loneliness, I reasoned, could also be a weakness. A door slightly ajar, waiting for someone to push it open. And I, Lee, her devoted and incredibly virile son, was going to be that someone.
The drive to the cabin was filled with a nervous energy. Mom chatted about work, about the cabin itself – her friend owned it and had offered it for a week – about anything and everything except the elephant in the room, which was my raging erection barely contained by my jeans. I tried to focus on the scenery, the towering pines and the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves, but my mind kept drifting back to Mom. The way her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her top as she reached for the radio, the way her thigh pressed against mine whenever the car swerved slightly. Each innocent touch felt like a spark igniting a wildfire within me.
When we finally arrived, the cabin was even more secluded than I’d imagined. Nestled in a small clearing, surrounded by dense woods on all sides, it was the definition of remote. No cell service, spotty Wi-Fi at best – perfect. Isolated, just the two of us.
We unpacked the car in companionable silence, Mom humming softly to herself. She was wearing a pair of denim shorts that barely grazed her mid-thigh and a loose tank top that still managed to hint at the generous curves underneath. My throat went dry. I busied myself carrying suitcases inside, trying to appear normal, trying to ignore the insistent throb between my legs.
The first few days were a careful dance. I started subtly, testing the waters. Compliments about her appearance, lingering eye contact, accidental brushes of hands, shoulders, and knees. “Mom, you look really good in that dress,” I’d say casually, watching for her reaction. “That colour brings out your eyes.” Or, “Wow, Mom, you’re in great shape for your age,” my voice just a little thicker than usual.
Mom, surprisingly, didn’t pull away. She seemed to almost lean into the attention. She’d blush slightly, her smile a little wider, her eyes holding mine for a fraction longer each time. It was subtle, but I was hyper-attuned to her reactions, analyzing every nuance. Hope began to bloom in my chest, hot and insistent.
We spent our days hiking and exploring the surrounding woods. Mom, despite her initial weariness, seemed to come alive in the fresh air and sunshine. Her laughter, which had been rare lately, started to resurface, bright and melodic. We’d sit by the creek, skipping stones and talking about everything and nothing. I’d strategically position myself close to her, letting our legs touch, my arm sometimes brushing against hers. She never moved away.
Evenings were spent on the porch, watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues. We’d drink wine, Mom usually having a couple of glasses while I stuck to one, wanting to keep my wits about me. The wine loosened her up, made her more talkative, more… vulnerable. She started to open up about Dad, about her grief, about her loneliness. As she spoke, her eyes would often drift to me, holding a look I couldn’t quite decipher, a mixture of sadness and something else… something that made my pulse quicken.
One evening, after a particularly potent glass of wine, she confessed, “Lee, you’ve been such a rock for me these past months. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Her words were like gasoline on the flames of my desire. “Mom,” I said, my voice low and husky, “you know I’ll always be here for you.” I reached out and took her hand, her fingers surprisingly soft and warm in mine. Her eyes met mine, and this time, the look was clearer. Longing. And something else… a flicker of forbidden desire. My heart hammered against my ribs.
The tension in the cabin was thick enough to cut with a knife. It crackled in the air whenever we were close, a silent electric hum that vibrated between us. I could see it in the way Mom looked at me, a mixture of caution and… something undeniably drawn. She was fighting it, I knew she was. The guilt, the societal programming, the ingrained taboo – it must have been tearing her apart. But I also saw the flicker of something deeper, something more primal that resonated with the burning desire in my soul.
The hike on the fifth day was the turning point. We ventured deeper into the woods than usual, following a winding trail that led to a hidden waterfall. The air was cool and damp, the sunlight filtering through the dense canopy creating an almost mystical atmosphere. Mom was wearing her hiking shorts today, even shorter than the denim ones, showcasing her long, tanned legs to perfection. With every step, my resolve solidified. This was it. Today was the day.
As we walked, I started to drop hints, subtle at first, then gradually becoming more direct. “This is beautiful, Mom,” I said, my voice deliberately suggestive. “It feels… secluded. Like we’re the only two people in the world.”
She glanced at me, a knowing look in her eyes. “It is pretty secluded,” she replied, her voice a little breathless.
“Makes you feel… adventurous,” I continued, pushing the boundaries. “Like you could do anything you wanted and no one would know.”
She stopped walking, turning to face me. Her eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Lee,” she started, her voice trembling slightly, “what are you…”
“What do you think, Mom?” I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. “What do you think I want?” My gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, to the tempting swell of her breasts beneath her hiking top.
She didn’t answer, but her eyes didn’t leave mine either. There was a mixture of fear and fascination in them, like a deer caught in headlights, unable to run. I reached out and gently cupped her cheek, my thumb stroking her smooth skin. “You know what I want, Mom. You’ve known for a long time, haven’t you?”
Her breath hitched. “Lee, please… don’t.” But her voice lacked conviction. It was a plea, not a command.
We had reached a small clearing by the waterfall. The roar of the water cascading down the rocks filled the air, drowning out any other sounds. It was a perfect, secluded spot. I leaned in, my lips hovering just inches from hers. “Don’t what, Mom?” I whispered, my voice rough with desire. “Don’t tell you how beautiful you are? Don’t tell you how much I want you?”
Her eyes fluttered shut. And then, with a soft sigh of surrender, she tilted her head up, her lips parting slightly. It was all the invitation I needed.
My lips crashed against hers, finally, after years of pent-up longing. The kiss was clumsy at first, fueled by desperation and raw desire. But as she responded, as her arms tentatively wrapped around my neck, it deepened, becoming more passionate, more urgent. Her tongue tentatively touched mine, and a jolt of electricity shot through my body. This was it. She was giving in.
The days that followed were a blur of stolen kisses and whispered touches. We were walking on a tightrope, balancing on the edge of the precipice, knowing we were playing with fire, but unable to resist the heat. We’d find moments alone during hikes, behind trees, by the creek, our kisses becoming bolder, our touches more intimate. My hands would linger on her waist, and her hips, sometimes even daring to cup her breast through her shirt. She’d gasp, and pull back slightly, but never truly stop me. The tension was building to a fever pitch, a coiled spring ready to snap.
And then came the night it finally broke.
It was the last night of our vacation. We were back on the porch, watching the sunset, the air thick with unspoken desires and the weight of what we were teetering on the brink of. Mom had already had two glasses of wine, and I poured her another, knowing this was our moment. Tonight, the dam would break.
As she sipped her wine, I moved closer, my leg brushing against hers. “Mom,” I said, my voice low and seductive, “this has been an amazing week.”
She nodded, her eyes heavy-lidded. “It has, Lee. It has.”
“But it feels… unfinished, doesn’t it?” I leaned closer, my breath warm against her ear. “Like there’s something… missing.”
She turned her head, her gaze locking with mine. “Lee, I…” she started, her voice thick with emotion.
“Don’t think, Mom,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the neckline of her top, where the soft skin of her cleavage peeked out. “Just feel.” My fingers dipped lower, tracing the curve of her breast. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat.
“Lee,” she moaned, her head falling back against the porch swing. Her eyes were closed now, her lips parted, inviting.
I stood up and pulled her to her feet, my hands sliding around her waist, pulling her close against me. Her body was soft and warm, moulding perfectly against mine. “Let’s go inside, Mom,” I murmured, my voice husky with lust. “Let’s finish what we started.”
She didn’t resist. She swayed slightly, her body leaning into mine, her eyes half-closed, glazed with desire and wine. I led her inside, my arm around her waist, her body trembling slightly against mine.
We were in the bedroom, the dim light of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Mom stood in the centre of the room, swaying slightly, her eyes fixed on mine. I reached out and gently took her hands, pulling her closer. “You’re so beautiful, Mom,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “So incredibly beautiful.”
I leaned in and kissed her neck, just below her ear. She shivered, her hands tightening on my shoulders. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my lips. Her skin was soft and warm, smelling faintly of wine and her sweet perfume. I trailed kisses down her neck, to her shoulder, then back up to her ear, nibbling gently on her lobe.
“Lee,” she moaned, her voice barely audible.
I reached behind her and unzipped her dress, the soft fabric sliding down her shoulders, revealing the lacy bra beneath. Her breasts, full and heavy, strained against the delicate lace, begging to be released. My breath hitched. She was magnificent.
I kissed her again, my lips finding hers in a deep, hungry kiss. Her tongue met mine, and the floodgates opened. Years of pent-up desire, of forbidden longing, poured out in that kiss. We kissed and kissed, our bodies pressed tightly together, our hands exploring, caressing.
I unhooked her bra, the lace falling away, revealing her magnificent breasts in all their glory. Nipples are already hard and erect, begging for attention. I cupped them in my hands, their weight heavy and intoxicating. She gasped, arching her back, her head falling back as I laved and suckled at her breasts, teasing her nipples with my tongue and teeth.
Her hands were everywhere, fumbling with my shirt, pulling it off, then attacking my belt buckle, her fingers surprisingly deft despite her drunken state. My jeans were off in seconds, and my hard cock sprang free, throbbing with anticipation.
I stepped back slightly, taking in her body, naked now except for her panties. Her skin was flushed, her breasts heaving, her eyes glazed with lust. She was everything I had ever dreamed of, and more. Her legs were long and shapely, her waist narrow, her hips curved and inviting. And her pussy… even through the thin fabric of her panties, I could see the dark triangle of hair, promising untold pleasures.
I reached out and gently pulled down her panties, revealing her moist pussy in all its glory. The sight of it made my breath catch in my throat. It was perfect, pink and plump, glistening with her natural juices. I knelt and kissed her there, my tongue tracing the delicate folds, teasing her clit, sending shivers of pleasure rippling through her body.
She moaned, her hands gripping my hair, urging me closer. “Oh, Lee, yes… please… fuck me.” Her words were slurred but clear, filled with raw, desperate desire.
I stood up, my cock throbbing, aching to be inside her. I guided her to the bed, and she lay back, her legs parting invitingly. I positioned myself between her legs, my cock pressing against her wet entrance. She gasped as I slid inside, slowly, deeply, filling her with my length.
“Oh, God, Lee,” she breathed, her eyes rolling back. “It feels… so good.”
I started to move, sliding in and out of her, slowly at first, then faster and harder as our passion intensified. Her pussy was hot and wet, gripping my cock tightly, milking every thrust. She moaned and cried out, her body arching up to meet mine with each stroke. Her breasts bounced rhythmically, her nipples hard and erect.
I couldn’t believe this was happening—Mom beneath me, her body soft and yielding, her breaths coming in short, needy gasps. My cock was buried deep inside her dripping pussy, the heat of her slick folds gripping me like a vice. Every slow thrust sent a jolt of raw pleasure through me, and I could feel her trembling, her thighs quivering against my hips. The dim light of the cabin bedroom painted her skin in soft gold, her full breasts bouncing gently with each movement, nipples stiff and rosy from my earlier attention.
“Lee… oh, fuck… harder,” she panted, her voice a desperate whine as her fingers dug into my shoulders. Her head tilted back, dark brunette hair fanning out across the pillow like a halo, sweat glistening on her neck. I could smell her—sweet perfume mixed with the musky scent of her arousal, thick and intoxicating in the air.
I gritted my teeth, my hands sliding down to grip her hips, fingers sinking into her soft flesh. “You want it harder, Mom?” I rasped, my voice low and rough. I picked up speed, my thrusts deepening, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room. Her pussy was soaked, her juices coating my throbbing shaft, dripping down to the sheets below. The side of her panties—shoved hastily to the side—rubbed against my cock with every stroke, the friction driving me wild.
“Ohhh… yes… yes, Lee!” she moaned loudly, her breaths coming in ragged bursts. “Fuck me… don’t stop… oh God!” Her back arched, pressing her swollen breasts harder against my chest, her nipples grazing my skin. I could feel her tightening around me, her slick walls pulsing with every thrust, pulling me deeper into her throbbing core.
I leaned down, my lips brushing her ear as I growled, “You’re so fucking wet for me, Mom. You love this, don’t you?” My hips slammed into her now, relentless, the bed creaking under us. Her gasps turned into high-pitched whimpers, her hands clawing at my back as she writhed beneath me.
“Y-Yes… ohhh, Lee… I love it… I need it!” she cried, her voice breaking with pleasure. Her legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my ass, urging me faster.
I watched her face, her expression contorted with pleasure, her eyes half-closed, focused on the sensations coursing through her body. I could feel her orgasm building, her pussy clenching around my cock, tighter and tighter.
“Fuck… I’m… I’m gonna cum… oh, fuck, Lee!” She gasped, her body convulsing, her pussy exploding in a torrent of wetness.
Her words lit a fire in me. I pounded into her, my cock aching and rock hard, the slick friction of her tight channel pushing me closer to the edge. I kissed her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, tasting the salt of her sweat. “Cum for me, Mom,” I whispered hotly against her skin. “Let me feel you.”
She let out a shuddering moan, loud and raw, her whole body tensing. “Ohhh… fuck… Lee… I’m cumming!”
With an intense orgasm, she squirt over my cock as I did one final thrust, I came inside her hot wet pussy, my cock pulsing as I filled her with my seed. Mom milked every last drop from me, her pussy still contracting around me. A few slow thrusts to get the last of cum from me.
“Lee…” she murmured, her voice soft and dazed, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my back. “That was… oh, God…”
I kissed her lips gently, tasting her, still catching my breath. “We’re not done yet, Mom,” I promised, my voice a low rumble. The night was ours, and I wasn’t letting her go anytime soon.