“Come on, Big Guy, it’s almost noon! Are you ready for this?” Mom called out, her voice tinged with excitement.
I groaned, dragging my feet. “Ugh, Mom, I’d honestly rather do anything else right now.”
She gave me that look—the one that said she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Oh, it won’t be that bad,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “A few hours of hard work, and I’ll owe you big time. Forever in your debt, how about that?”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Forever in my debt, huh? I like the sound of that. How exactly do you plan to repay me?”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something. Now grab those Hefty bags and let’s get moving.”
As I followed her down the hallway toward the infamous “storage room,” I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Sure, spending a perfectly good July afternoon clearing out a mountain of junk wasn’t exactly my idea of fun. But there was something about the way Mom approached it—like it was some grand adventure—that made it a little less unbearable.
The storage room had been our catch-all for the past 15 years. Ever since Mom and I moved into this modest two-bedroom house after she divorced my dad, that room had become the final resting place for everything we didn’t know what to do with. Old clothes, forgotten toys, random tools—you name it, it was in there. And now, with me heading off to college next month, Mom had decided it was time to tackle the chaos.
But as we reached the door, my smile widened for another reason. Mom was dressed casually for the task—black yoga pants and a white camisole with delicate spaghetti straps. The yoga pants hugged her figure in a way that was impossible to ignore, and I couldn’t help but notice the faint outline of her hot-pink thong peeking through. It was going to be a long afternoon, but at least the view would be… interesting.
“Ta-da!” she announced, swinging the door open dramatically and turning to face me. I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to be focused on the bags in my hands. “What’s with the smile?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, shrugging. “Just thinking about all the ways you’re going to repay me for this.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, you’ll earn it, mister. I’m going to work you hard. Real hard.” She made a whip-cracking sound with her mouth and grinned.
I chuckled nervously, feeling a slight flush creep up my neck. The storage room was a disaster—a small walk-in closet packed to the brim with boxes, bags, and who-knows-what-else. The shelves were overflowing, and the floor was a labyrinth of forgotten treasures. It was going to be a long day.
We quickly came up with a plan: clear the floor first, then sort through the shelves. In the living room, we’d set up three piles—trash, donate, and keep. The “keep” pile would eventually make its way back to the newly organized shelves. It sounded simple enough, but I knew better.
By noon, we were knee-deep in the mess. Mom’s bedroom, just down the hall, became our makeshift headquarters. We had lemonade, a radio playing classic rock, and, most importantly, air conditioning. It was late July in New York, and the heat and humidity were relentless.
Mom was dressed for the weather, just like me. I had on lightweight grey gym shorts and a white tank top, while she wore her camisole and yoga pants. The thin fabric of her top did little to hide the pink lace bra underneath, and I couldn’t help but notice how the sweat made her olive skin glow. Her dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail, but a few strands clung to her neck, damp from the heat.
As we worked, Mom kept up a steady stream of chatter, handing me items and directing me to the appropriate pile. Most of the top layers were her old clothes, and she was surprisingly ruthless about what stayed and what went. I, on the other hand, was more focused on the way her yoga pants stretched as she bent over, revealing the faint outline of her thong. It was distracting, to say the least.
A couple of hours in, we’d made decent progress, but the humidity was starting to get to us. Mom wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and let out a breath. “Whew! I’m sweating like crazy in here. How about we take a quick break and cool off in the A/C?”
I nodded, grateful for the reprieve. “Anything you say, Boss.”
As we stepped into the cool air of her bedroom, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and anticipation. The day was far from over, but at least I had a front-row seat to the most interesting—and challenging—part of the job.
While we sat in her bedroom, sipping lemonade and enjoying the cool blast of the A/C, the machine suddenly sputtered and died. The hum of the fan faded into silence, and within minutes, the room began to feel like a sauna. Mom groaned, fanning herself with a magazine. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Of all the days for the A/C to give out!”
I wiped the sweat from my forehead and shrugged. “Guess we’re back to the old-school way of cooling off—open windows and hope for a breeze.”
Mom sighed, standing up and heading toward the window. She pushed it open, but the air outside was just as stifling. “Ugh, it’s like a furnace out there,” she muttered, leaning on the windowsill. “This is going to make the rest of the day… interesting.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Interesting” was one way to put it. The storage room was already a hotbox, and without the A/C, it was only going to get worse. But Mom wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. She turned to me, hands on her hips, and gave me a determined look. “Well, Big Guy, we’ve got two choices: we can either call it a day and try again tomorrow, or we can power through and get this done. What do you think?”
“Can we at least have 10 minutes break,” I said as I looked at her she seemed so sweaty it was so damn hot and she was too.
“Absolutely, take your time, honey,” Mom said, understanding the plight of the heat. She pulled her camisole away from her chest, fanning herself with one hand, revealing the swell of her breasts straining against the thin fabric of her bra. “We’ll tackle this beast after we cool down a bit. Damn if it gets any hotter ill be down to my underwear haha, don’t worry I won’t though.”
“Feel free to… I mean,” I quickly stopped myself as I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
“What do you mean Jason,” she said wiping the sweat off of her cleavage.
I swallowed hard, my eyes shifting away quickly, trying to regain composure. “I meant, uh, do what you gotta do to stay cool, Mom. I’ll just… grab another lemonade or something.”
I left the room to get us a drink and heard her mumble ‘god my tits are all sweaty’.
Returning with two cold glasses of lemonade, I found Mom peeling off her damp camisole, the pink lace bra now fully exposed, her skin gleaming with perspiration. She caught my gaze and smirked, tossing the top onto the bed.
“Oh that is much better?” she asked, her voice playful but with an edge that caught my breath. When she leaned forward to take a drink off me her tits dangled down a bit in her bra and made me hard.
I handed her the lemonade, trying to keep my eyes level with hers, though the temptation to ogle was intense. “A whole lot better, Mom. That A/C sure picked a fine time to kick the bucket.”
“Tell me about it,” she agreed, taking a long sip. “But this lemonade’s a lifesaver, thanks.” Her pink bra matched the hue of her thong perfectly, and the way the lace clung to her wet skin made my imagination run wild. After downing nearly half a glass she noticed me looking at her boobs, “Ahem.”
I blinked and cleared my throat, finally meeting her eyes. “Sorry, Mom. I mean, it’s… um…you’re just… it’s hot, you know?”
“Stop worrying, am not stupid. You are a guy and I didn’t think I am just so damn hot,” she said taking another swig.
“Mmm yes you are,” I laughed and turned my head away.
“Alright, enough flirting, Big Guy,” she teased with a sly smile, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. “Let’s get back to conquering this beast before it conquers us instead.”
We returned to the storage room, the air hot and thick with the scent of old cardboard and dust. Mom’s bra, now the only barrier between her skin and the world, clung to her curves in a way that was both enticing and strategic. She reached for a particularly heavy box, and I couldn’t help but offer a hand, the heat making every move feel like an effort.
“Thanks, sweetie,” she panted, brushing against me as she bent, her breasts jiggling ever so slightly against the lace. “I’d hate to… accidentally flash the neighbours through that window.”
The innuendo was unmistakable, and I bit back a grin. “Wouldn’t want that,” I replied, my voice a notch deeper than usual, my eyes inevitably falling to the enticing jiggle.
We worked in silence for a bit, the only sounds being the rustle of clothes, the occasional thud of boxes, and our laboured breathing. The heat was relentless, and it wasn’t long before Mom’s bra was soaked through, her nipples now visible against the pink fabric. She noticed my gaze again and chuckled, a playful glint in her eye. “Eyes up here, mister. Unless you want to help me sort the ‘intimate apparel’ pile.”
The way she said it, with that teasing lilt, made my heart race. “Intimate apparel?” I repeated, the words sounding foreign in the steamy air. “I didn’t know we had a pile for that.”
“Oh Jason, darling,” she smirked, tossing a lacy black bra into a bag. “You’d be surprised what’s hidden beneath the surface.” With her back to me, she bent over to retrieve another box, her thong now fully visible.
“Need a hand with that?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry. “Always the gentleman,” she quipped, but turned to me with a knowing smile. “I think I’ve got this one. But you can carry the bag to the trash pile. Gently, though, no peeking!”
I laughed, a nervous edge to it. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
But as the afternoon dragged on, the temperature and the tension between us only rose. Every brush of skin, every accidental touch, seemed charged with an electric current that neither of us acknowledged openly. It wasn’t until Mom’s bra strap slipped down her shoulder I caught a glimpse of her sideboob.
“Son, a little help?” she asked, her voice husky as she tried to adjust it, her breasts heaving with the effort.
I stepped forward, our bodies now almost touching as I carefully slid the strap back into place. My fingers grazed her warm skin, and her breath caught—a sound that didn’t go unnoticed by either of us.
“There, don’t want them falling out in front of me do you,” I murmured, my face dangerously close to hers.
“God we wouldn’t want that at all, I know you would you dirty boy how you been looking at me,” she chuckled and started to move another box.
“Sorry mom, I… I didn’t mean to look,” I was embarrassed.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned to face me, her voice low. “Don’t be sorry, sweetie. I know you’re a young man with… appreciative eyes. But for now, let’s keep them on the task at hand, hm?”
She went to put an heavy box high up on the shelf and barely reached. I stood close behind her with my hands helping her place the box not knowing the tent in my pants pressed against her hard.
“Mom, here, let me get that for you,” I said, reaching up and taking the box from her hands, my body instinctively pressing against hers as I lifted it onto the top shelf. The unmistakable bulge in my shorts brushed against the soft curve of her ass, and I felt her body tense for a moment, then relax back against me, a silent acknowledgment of the heat we were both feeling—inside and out.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” she breathed out, her voice a whisper. “You’re stronger than you look.” The way she leaned back slightly, allowing me to assist her, wasn’t lost on me, nor was the way her body fit against mine.
We continued like that, the tension simmering, almost tangible between us. I knew it was wrong, the line we were skirting, but the heat, the intimacy of our proximity, made it impossible to ignore. Th eair was filled with the scent of our sweat and the musty storage room—and something else, a raw, primal undercurrent that seemed to pulse with every breath.
With the next heavy box, I couldn’t help myself. As she stretched upwards, the fabric of her yoga pants pulled tight against her, outlining the delicate swell of her pussy, the fabric of her thong disappearing. I positioned myself behind her once more, my hands guiding the box, but my body—my growing arousal—pressing against her.
“Just…hold still,” I whispered, feeling the heat between us grow, the thump of my heartbeat in my ears.
She pushed back, subtly, but definitely intentional. “You’ve got a good grip there,” she challenged, her words laced with an unmistakable invitation.
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “Just making sure it’s secure,” I replied, my voice low and rough with desire.
Mom turned to me, the space between us shrinking. “Oh it felt secure it should be fine. I think we done enough for today, let’s have a sit down and a drink.”
“Here you go, Mom,” I said, handing her a glass and taking a seat beside her, leaving a careful distance.
“Thanks, Big Guy,” she replied, her voice still husky from our close encounter. She took a long, slow sip, never breaking eye contact. “You know, I think we’ve earned a real break.”
I nodded, taking a breath. “I’ll say. That room’s relentless.”
“And you’ve been a real trooper,” she said, scooting closer, her bra barely containing her as she shifted. “I’m proud of you.”
The couch creaked softly as we sat side by side. Each time she moved, the fabric of her bra strained, hinting at the softness beneath, and I focused on the lemonade, trying to keep my gaze respectful. The room was silent except for the sound of ice clinking against glass.
“Just think,” she started, her voice low, leaning in a bit closer, “all this hard work, and you haven’t complained once.” I met her gaze, feeling the warmth of her beside me.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mom. Especially with you as my partner in crime, “I added with a nervous chuckle. “You’re quite the charmer when you want to be,” she teased, a smile playing on her lips. “But seriously, I’m grateful. You’ve made this… more bearable.”
The air was thick, charged with something unspoken. She took another sip before setting her glass down, her eyes locking onto mine.”You’ve been looking at me all day, Son.
You can’t deny that. “I met her gaze, feeling a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the temperature. “Yeah, Mom, you’re… it’s hard not to,” I confessed, the words tumbling out.
She bit her lip, a small, mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.”Andwhat is it you see when you look?” she asked, edging even closer, her thigh brushing mine.
My heart pounded in my chest. “You’re beautiful, Mom. Always have been. But today, in that heat… it’s like you’re glowing.”
Her hand reached out, resting on my knee, sending a jolt through me. “I see the way you’re looking at me too, Son. And if I’m honest, I like it. I feel wanted and in a way which I haven’t felt from a guy in ages. I so wish you wasn’t my son as I could feel your you know, thing dig into me when you helped me with the boxes.”
I swallowed thickly, my heart racing at her admission. “Mom, I… I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. But seeing you like this, so free, confident… it’s mesmerizing.” She leaned in, her breath on my ear, “Uncomfortable? No, Jason. It’s been a long time since I felt… desired like this. Your attention, it’s…flattering.”
“Mom, I…” I began, my voice shaking slightly, “I don’t want to cross any lines, but… God, you’re driving me crazy today.”
She leaned back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and something deeper. “Jason, no lines have been crossed. Not yet.” Her fingers trailed up my thigh, a deliberate, teasing path. “But maybe, just maybe, we’re standing at the edge of something else.”
I caught her hand in mine, my grip firm yet gentle.”I want you to know, if we do this, it’s because we both choose it.No regrets. No looking back.”
Her eyes searched mine, then softened. “I know what I want, son. And it’s been a while since I’ve felt this alive.”
Without another word, we closed the gap between us, our lips meeting in a kiss that was long overdue. Soft, yet passionate, it was a mix of years of suppressed desire and the boldness of the moment. As we pulled back, both breathless, her hand slid to the waistband of my shorts, her fingers brushing the hardness beneath.
“You’re not kidding,” she murmured, a wicked grin on her lips. “You’ve been holding back, haven’t you?”
I nodded, my throat dry. “For too long, Mom.”
With a swift motion, she stood, leading me by hand to her bedroom. The air, still stifling, seemed to crackle with anticipation. She pushed me gently onto the bed, her yoga pants and bra joining the camisole on the floor. There she stood, in nothing but her thong, her body a vision of curves and confidence.
“Take them off,” she commanded, nodding to my shorts. I obeyed, revealing my cock, the veins standing out, thick and eager.
Her eyes widened, a smirk playing on her lips. “Well, hello there, Big Guy,” she teased, running her fingers along the shaft, feeling the heat and the pulse beneath my skin. “I’ve imagined, but… wow fuck your cocks big.”
I groaned at her touch, the sensation electric. “Mom, please…”
She straddled me, her thong the last barrier, her wet heat pressing against my hardness.
“You’ve earned this, every bit.” Biting her lip, she slid the thong aside, revealing her slick, glistening cunt, the pink folds inviting.
“Guide me in,” she whispered, her voice a husky plea.
I positioned myself at her entrance, feeling the warmth, the wetness enveloping me. Slowly, I pushed in, inch by delicious inch, her moans filling the room—real, deep, and unrestrained. “Ohh, Jason…yes, just like that.”
I held her hips as I guided her up and down as I watched my dick as her cunt dragged up and down my shaft.
Her eyes fluttered shut, her breath coming in ragged gasps with each deliberate, deep descent.
“God, it’s been so long… you feel incredible,” she moaned, her voice trembling with pleasure.
I groaned aloud as her tightness gripped me, the sensation overwhelming. “Mom… you’re so hot, so tight,” I stammered, feeling her clench around my throbbing cock. She opened her eyes, locking onto mine, a look of pure desire as she rode me.
“Call me that again,” she panted, her rhythm increasing. “Say ‘Mom’ while I’m on you. While I ride your cock son.”
“Mom,” I grunted out her name as she slammed down, her pace quickening. “You’re so hot… so damn tight on my cock.”
Her eyes flashed open, a fierce intensity as she rode me harder. “That’s it, Jason…say it again,” she demanded, her own voice rising with the rhythm. “Mom, your cunt feels incredible wrapped around me. Ahhh fucking hell, I so wanna pull out, lay you down and put your legs over my shoulders and really go to town on that pussy of yours.”
“Let’s do it,” she climbs of my cock and lays down.
“Haha mom that is the fastest I seen you move, ever. You must really need a good dicking.” I said as I climbed onto her putting her legs over my shoulders.
Her laughter was breathy, filled with desire as she settled into the new position, her legs draped over my shoulders, giving me a deeper angle.
“I do, Jason, I need this—need you,” she confessed, her voice a sultry murmur. With her legs up, I found the leverage I sought, plunging deeper, feeling her wet heat grip me with each thrust. The sound of flesh on flesh, our mingled moans, filled the room—a symphony of our forbidden pleasure.
“Like this, Mom?” I asked, my voice strained, the sensation of her pussy enveloping me entirely.
“Yes, just like that,” she cried out, her back arching, her breasts heaving. “Harder, baby. Make me feel every inch of you.” I complied, my hips driving with a fierce need, my cock pulsing, the veins standing out, throbbing with every powerful drive into her slick, welcoming cunt.
“You’re so tight… so fucking perfect.” The words came out in a growl, the intensity of our connection pushing us both to the edge.
Her moans turned to desperate pleas as I drove into her, her body writhing beneath mine. “Oh God, Jason, don’t stop… please, fuck your mom harder than that baby,” The room seemed to spin, the world narrowing down to the feeling of being inside her, the sound of her begging.
Our rhythm was primal, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on heated skin, the room echoing with our raw desire.
“Ahh, Mom… oh fuck we shouldn’t be doing this,” I grunted out, feeling her walls clench around me, milking my cock with each powerful plunge. She arched her back, offering herself more deeply, her nails raking against my shoulders.
“Shouldn’t, but we are, Jason… and oh fuck your cocks so big oh fucking hell,” she gasped, the words torn from her between deep moans. Her cunt clenched again, gripping me tighter than before, urging me on.
The reality of our taboo act only heightened every sensation; the way her tight, slick pussy enveloped my cock with each brutal thrust, the base of my length slapping loudly against her swollen clit, eliciting cries from her that were raw and unrestrained.
“Yes, Jason, just… ungh, like that!” she pleaded, her voice a mix of surprise and ecstasy. I gripped her legs tighter, the angle allowing for deeper, harder pounding. Her cunt was a velvet vice, gripping and releasing with each powerful drive, her juices coating my cock, the sound of our flesh joining a frantic rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart.
“Mom, you’re unbelievable,” I groaned, my cock hammering into her, the head striking that sweet spot inside that made her shudder.
“Oh God, right there! Yes, right fucking there!” Her voice was a symphony of pleasure, a staccato of moans that fuelled my pace, made my thrusts more desperate, more urgent.
The pace was relentless, the air filled with the symphony of our coupling—the slap of my cock against her, the wet sound of my length ramming over and over, the grunts escaping me with every forceful plunge.
“You’re making me cum, Jason… Oh, God, I’m… I’m…!” Her words dissolved into a keening wail as her orgasm seized her, her cunt pulsing, squeezing, milking my cock in rhythmic waves. I felt her pussy open as she lost her breath and squirted all over me and my cock as I kept on fucking her senseless through her severe orgasm.
Feeling her climax around me, the way her body tensed and then surrendered, pushed me over the edge.
“Mom! I’m… cumming too!” I roared, my cock throbbing violently inside her, the heat of our combined release mingling as I emptied myself deep within her inviting cunt, filling her to the brim with my hot, thick spurts.
“Jason… oh yes, fill me up,” she moaned, her voice ragged and spent. I collapsed beside her, our bodies slick with sweat and the aftermath, chests heaving as we caught our breath. After a moment, she turned to face me, her eyes soft yet still bright with the intensity of what just happened.
“That… was something else,” she whispered, a hint of awe in her voice.
I pulled her close, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “Mom… I’ve never felt anything like it.”
She snuggled into my chest, her breath evening out. “Me neither, Son. And I promise, no regrets.”
“Just so you know…” she whispered, her voice gentle against the silence,” I meant every word. No regrets.”
I kissed her forehead, my lips brushing her damp skin. “Neither do I, Mom. This… it’s like a dream, but real. Realer than anything. I been dying to screw you all day, sorry just have.”
“I can tell how you been looking at me all day,” she giggled softly, the sound a mixture of satisfaction and affection. “I’ve been feeling your eyes on me, Jason, and it’s been… intoxicating. The build up, the tension—it all led to this. Which is so wrong. I… I am your mom, I…”
“Mom,” I whispered, my breath still uneven, “I know this is… complicated. But I’m not sorry. Not one bit. “She turned her head, her gaze meeting mine, a soft smile on her lips. “Neither am I, Jason. Not for a single moment of it.”