Okay, picture this: I’m back home from college, right? Ready for Mom’s cooking, my bed, the whole nine yards. As I’m about to stroll into the living room, I hear Mom on the phone. And bam. A weird feeling hits me. Not just butterflies—this was a full-on knot twisting my stomach, like a physical thing settling heavily in my gut.
I step inside, and silence just slams into me. Not just regular quiet, but thick, heavy silence. You know, the kind you could practically cut with a knife? It’s hanging in the air, all humid and sticky. I freeze in the doorway, backpack strap digging into my shoulder—a nice little sting, like a reminder of all the crap I’m already lugging around in my head. Mom’s got her back to me, phone glued to her ear.
“…Yeah, Linda, honey, I know, you’ve told me a million freakin’ times, I need to get out more,” she sighs. You could practically hear her eyes rolling even without seeing them. That tone? Pure, tired humour. Like Aunt Linda’s nagging was a weekly sitcom, or maybe a damn daily one these days. “Seriously, this dry spell? Biblical. We’re talkin’ longer than history itself, babe. Drier than Gandhi’s sandals in the Sahara, seriously. My poor pussy’s practically sending out goddamn distress flares, like a foghorn in a desert!” She chuckles, that familiar Mom sound—but twisted, somehow, in this context. Then she drops her voice, all hush-hush. “Oh god, why am I even airing my dirty laundry to my sister? Dirty laundry? Honey, at this point, it’s practically ancient history. Fossilized. That’s how long it’s been.”
My ears perk up, seriously, like a dog hearing the treat bag crinkle. Embarrassment punches me in the gut, for sure. But underneath it? A wild, buzzing curiosity. Morbid, maybe? But there. It’s like stumbling into a secret garden, isn’t it? Except the gates are wide open, neon signs flashing ‘Come on in, pervert!’ Should I cough? Shuffle my feet like a clumsy rhino? Stage some kind of dramatic entrance, maybe trip over the welcome mat? My Converse felt super-glued to the floor. What the hell do you do when you walk in on this kind of conversation?
She laughs again, low and throaty, rumbling through the air—so completely, utterly Mom, and yet, in this context, totally… alien. “Haha, nah, not touched a drop in ages myself, you’re spot on there too, you lush. Can’t even think about it, honestly. One measly glass of Merlot and bam! Hornier than a badger in heat! Doesn’t exactly scream ‘good times’ when you’re flying solo, does it? Yeah, yeah, I know, I’ve got Johnny here, bless his sweet heart. But he’s my son, Linda! He does not need to witness that particular brand of parental… enthusiasm. I swear, I’d probably try to hump his leg just to get some relief. Poor kid would be scarred for life, wouldn’t he? Therapy for years. And for what? Mom needs a good seeing too? A good stuffing, like a Thanksgiving turkey, just a damn good hard rogering, oh god…” She groaned, then switched gears so fast it was whiplash-inducing. “Yes, I know he’s eighteen, he’s so not like his deadbeat dad, I’m so proud of him and… No, Linda, disgusting is my boy being dragged into this conversation. What are you like, you dirty bitch?”
I wondered, suddenly chilled, what exactly Linda had been saying about me.
Seriously, I could practically feel Aunt Linda’s snort of laughter buzzing down the phone line, see that knowing smirk plastered across her face, eyebrows practically disappearing into her hairline. My face felt like it was glowing in the dark, radiating pure, nuclear embarrassment. It wasn’t just the words, you know? It was the absolute, balls-out openness of it all. This was Mom. My Mom! The woman who still sent care packages stuffed with enough cookies to sink a battleship, who calmly discussed my grades, now dissecting her sex life—or the gaping black hole where it used to be—with a raw, unfiltered honesty that hit me like a jolt of electricity. Could I move? Nope. Was I a terrible son for eavesdropping? Probably. Was I gonna stop? Hell no.
“Honestly,” she went on, voice dropping even lower, a conspiratorial whisper that slithered across the room like a sexy little snake and sent shivers skittering down my spine, “sometimes I… just fantasize. Remember that carpenter we hired last year? Marco? The one who always reeked of sawdust and pure, unadulterated testosterone?” Pause. The distinct clink of ice cubes in a glass, probably ice tea again was her favourite. “Yeah, well, he was fixing the kitchen cabinets, and all I could think about was him fixing something else entirely if you catch my drift. Lord, Linda, those biceps could crack walnuts in their shells, and I bet he’s packing some serious wood himself if you know what I mean. Big, thick, and ready to… hammer.” She sighed, a frustrated gust of air practically dripping with longing. “I even caught him looking at me once, you know? Not like, disrespectfully, but… hungry. Made me wonder if he was thinking the same filthy things I was. Is that wrong? God, it’s pathetic, I know. I need to join one of those… dating apps, isn’t that what all the cool kids are doing these days? Maybe swipe my way to salvation, huh?”
But then a satisfying sigh. “But then… the thought of swiping left and right through a parade of freaks… dick pics flashing all over my screen… ugh, well some dicks probably look good. Actually I shouldn’t be picky any dick I would take right about fucking now, damn any dick. At least then I retain some shred of dignity. Barely.” She took another gulp, and I pictured her swirling the ice in her glass, lost in some dry-spell desert of her own. “And what if I did meet someone? I haven’t even bought new underwear in, like, a year! Can you imagine? Talk about a mood killer before you even get started. Like, ‘Hey, wanna see my… uh… sensible cotton briefs?’” She chuckled sadly. “And what if he’s into, you know, dirty talk? I’m so out of practice, Linda! The last time someone whispered something dirty in my ear, it was probably my dentist telling me to floss more.”
And then, bam. My dick decided to throw a party, pulsing hard against the denim of my jeans. Seriously? Now? Every syllable she uttered felt like a forbidden whisper, a glimpse behind a velvet curtain into a boudoir I was never, ever supposed to see. This wasn’t just my mom talking; it was a woman. A sexual woman, raw and honest about her desires, her frustrations, her goddamn hunger. And it was… kind of hot, wasn’t it? Even though it was my mom. Shit. I stood there, glued to the spot, a voyeur in my own damn hallway, torn between the primal urge to bolt for the hills and this undeniable, shameful fascination that just wouldn’t let me go. What kind of freak was I? Was this some twisted Oedipal nightmare playing out in real-time, right outside the kitchen?
“Honestly,” she continued, her voice dropping to a sultry purr, “I just want to feel alive again, you know? Like, truly, thoroughly fucked. Not just a quickie, but the kind of sex where you’re breathless, sweaty, and questioning every life choice that led you to this moment. The kind where you’re screaming his name, or maybe just screaming in general because, goddamn, it’s been too long. And don’t even get me started on foreplay. I mean, I’m not asking for fireworks and symphonies, just a little… effort. You know, the works. Kissing, touching, all that jazz. But at this point? I’d settle for anything that doesn’t involve batteries and a lonely Friday night. Just thinking about it is making me… restless.”
She paused, taking another sip, the ice clinking against the glass. “And then there’s the idea of actually meeting someone. Swiping through apps sounds fun, but what if I get matched with some creepy guy who only cares about one thing? Or worse, someone who doesn’t even know how to… you know, handle a woman. I mean, I’ve heard horror stories about these dating apps. Guys sending unsolicited pics, or worse, showing up on your doorstep unannounced. No thanks. But then again, what’s the alternative? I’m not exactly getting any younger, and I’m sure as hell not getting any less horny. Maybe I should just take a chance. What’s the worst that could happen, right? Maybe I’ll find someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone who can… deliver. Because at this point, I’m not just looking for sex—I’m looking for a damn redemption.”
Her voice softened, tinged with a raw vulnerability. “I just miss it, Linda. I miss the connection, the intimacy, the feeling of being wanted. It’s been so long, and it’s starting to feel like a part of me is just… gone. I don’t want to be that person who’s just existing, you know? I want to live, to feel, to experience all that again. But how do I even start? I mean, I’m not the same person I was ten years ago. I’ve got stretch marks and a body that’s seen better days. Who’s even going to want that? It’s like I’m starting over but with more baggage and less confidence. It’s… scary, Linda. Terrifying.”
She took a deep breath, and for a moment, there was just silence. “But hey, maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe I just need to put myself out there, regardless of how terrifying it is. Maybe I’ll surprise myself and find someone who likes me for who I am—stretch marks, still got my brunette hair, and all. Or maybe I’ll just get laid, and that’ll be enough for now. Either way, I guess it’s worth a shot, right? I mean, what’s the alternative? Dying alone with a vibrator that’s older than my kid?”
She laughed again, this time with a hint of determination. “Alright, Linda, I think I’ve made up my mind. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna join one of those apps and see what happens. Wish me luck. And if I end up on the news for murdering some guy with my vibrator, just know I tried.”
The conversation went on, but I’d already heard enough. My face was on fire, my heart was racing, and my dick still throbbing like it had a mind of its own. I took a deep breath, shook off the guilt and the shock, and stepped back into the hallway. I needed to get out of there before she realized I’d been listening. But as I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but wonder—what would happen if later tonight I offered her drinks? Just me and her. Could I seduce her?
I took a deep breath and walked into the living room as though I just got in.
“Johnny! Oh my god, you’re home!” she yelps, voice jumping an octave as she fumbles to hang up the phone. “Linda, gotta go—my boy’s here. Yeah, yeah, talk later, you perv.” She tosses the phone onto the couch with a playful huff, then crosses the room in three quick strides. Before I could blink, she was wrapping me in a hug, her arms tight around my shoulders, I could feel her breast pressed against me. I never thought about her tits and her in that way before, before that phone call.
“Jesus, sweetie, you scared the crap outta me,” she says, pulling back to look at me. Her lips curve into a grin, but there’s a flicker of something else in her eyes—relief, maybe, or a spark of that restless energy you overheard.
I stood there, still buzzing from everything I’d just heard, as Mom squeezed me tight. Her breasts pressed against my chest, soft and warm through her thin tank top, and I couldn’t help but notice how they felt—full, heavy like they were begging to be touched. That phone call had flipped a switch in me, and now I was seeing her in a whole new light. She pulled back, her hands lingering on my shoulders, and flashed me that grin of hers—bright, a little wild, with that spark of something restless dancing in her hazel eyes.
I laughed, trying to shake off the heat creeping up my neck. “Mom, you act like you haven’t seen me in years. You saw me this morning, haha.” My voice came out lighter than I felt, but that hug still lingered in my head—her soft tits pressed against me, warm and heavy through that flimsy tank top. It was messing with me badly, and I couldn’t unhear that phone call rattling around in my skull.
She stepped back, hands sliding off my shoulders slowly like she didn’t wanna let go just yet. Her grin widened, playful but with that restless edge still flickering in her hazel eyes. “Oh, hush, Johnny. Can’t a mom miss her kid even if it’s just been a few hours? You’re my favourite troublemaker, you know that.” She swatted my arm lightly, her fingers brushing my skin, and damn if that didn’t send a jolt straight to my cock. She turned toward the couch, hips swaying in those tight denim shorts, and plopped down with a dramatic little sigh.
“God, it’s hot as hell today,” she said, fanning herself again. That tank top lifted just a bit, flashing another peek of her stomach—smooth, with those faint stretch marks that made her look real, lived-in, sexy in a way I wasn’t supposed to notice. She kicked her bare feet up on the coffee table, toes wiggling, nails painted a chipped red. “So, what’s the plan, huh? You gonna hang out with your boring ol’ mom tonight, or you got some hot college date lined up?”
I dropped my backpack by the door and shrugged, leaning against the wall like I wasn’t already plotting something stupid. “Nah, no dates. Figured I’d stick around here. Missed you, I guess.” I smirked, keeping it casual, but my eyes flicked to her chest again—couldn’t help it. The way her bra hugged her curves under that top was driving me nuts. “What about you?”
She tilted her head at me, hazel eyes glinting with that playful spark, and let out a little laugh. “Missed me, huh? Oh, Johnny, you’re too sweet sometimes.” Her voice had that warm, throaty edge to it, the kind that made my stomach flip after everything I’d overheard. She stretched her arms up, tank top riding higher, showing off more of that smooth stomach—those faint stretch marks catching the light like little silver threads. Her breasts shifted under the fabric, full and heavy, nipples faintly pressing against her bra. Damn, it was hard to look away.
“Stickin’ around with me tonight? Well, aren’t I lucky?” She grinned, patting the couch beside her. “C’mon, sit. Tell me what’s up with you. Been a hot minute since we just… hung out, y’know?” She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, those denim shorts hugging her thighs tight. The way she moved—casual, but with this restless little twitch—made me wonder if she was still buzzing from that phone call. Her bare feet flexed, chipped red polish flashing, and she ran a hand through her messy brunette hair, tugging it loose from a half-assed bun.
I could still hear her words echoing in my head—“thoroughly fucked,” “restless,” “hammer”—and it was messing with me. She didn’t know I’d heard, didn’t know how her voice had sunk into me, low and sultry, lighting up parts of my brain I didn’t wanna admit were awake. She grabbed her iced tea from the table, the glass sweating in the heat, and took a slow sip. A droplet slid down her chin, catching the light before she swiped it away with her thumb.
“God, this heat’s gonna kill me,” she muttered, fanning herself again. “You sure you wanna waste your night with your sweaty ol’ mom? I mean, I ain’t exactly exciting company these days.” She said with an exhausting look and loneliness.
“We could have a good drink and pizza,” I suggested as I watched Mom’s face drop the second I mentioned drinks and pizza. Her hazel eyes widened for a split second, like a deer caught in headlights, before she masked it with a quick laugh. She leaned forward on the couch, elbows on her knees, and rubbed her hands together nervously. That tank top stretched tight across her chest, her full breasts pushing against the fabric, nipples faintly outlined under her bra. The sight hit me like a punch, stirring that messed-up heat in my gut again.
“Drinks, huh?” she said, her voice dipping low, almost cautious. She bit her lip, glancing at me sidelong, and I caught a flicker of that restless energy from her phone call. “Johnny, you know I… uh, I don’t handle booze too well these days. Tempting but, you can drink.”
I could tell she wanted a drink, not like she would admit what it did to her. “Come on Mom let your hair down.”
She set the glass down and shifted, tucking one leg under her. The move made her shorts ride up higher, showing off more of that smooth, tanned thigh. “Tell you what,” she said, voice dropping a little, softer now, like she was testing the waters. “You order the pizza—pepperoni, yeah? My favourite. And maybe… maybe I’ll have just one drink. Somethin’ light. Don’t be getting me drunk… it does things which isn’t fair.”
“Does what mom,” I said playing dumb.
“Oh erm… nothing for you to worry about sweetie,” she said as she got up. “I’m gonna freshen up real quick,” she said, fanning herself. “This heat’s makin’ me feel like a damn swamp monster. Be right back, sweetie.” She padded toward the hallway, hips swaying, the denim hugging her ass just right. I couldn’t help but stare, my dick twitching in my jeans as her words from the phone call echoed in my head—“thoroughly fucked,” “restless,” “hammer.” Shit, what was I even doing?
A few minutes later, she came back, and damn if she didn’t look different. Her hair was brushed out, falling in loose waves down her back, still a little damp at the ends like she’d splashed some water on her face. She’d swapped her daily attire for a thin silky short purple nightie with a low dip neckline.
As she walked back into the living room, the silky fabric of her nightie clung to her curves, the deep purple hue contrasting beautifully with her sun-kissed skin. The neckline plunged low, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, and the short hemline rode up her thighs with each step, teasing a peek at her toned legs. Her nipples straining against the fabric, wait did she take her bra off?
“Feels so much better,” she sighed, running a hand through her damp hair.”I swear, it’s like a sauna out there.” She flopped back onto the couch, the movement causing her nightie to shift and ride up even higher. She didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care, as she stretched out languidly, her body relaxed and at ease. “So, about that drink,” she said, turning her head to look at me with a smirk.
“Sure Mom,” I handed her the bottle of Jack Daniels, “pour us one and I’ll ring the pizza.”
Later that night pizza box opened on the table we were on are 5 or 6th drink. Mom looked tipsy and giddy.
“You know,” she leaned in close, her breath a whisper against my ear, the scent of her shampoo and the sharp tang of whiskey, “I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.” Her tits nearly grazed my arm with movement, and I felt the heat off her skin, the fabric of her nightie whispering against my T-shirt.
“Being with you, Johnny—feels almost like…like I’m young again, reckless, daring.” Her voice dipped, a hint of that sultry tone from the phone call, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I caught her gaze, hazel eyes darkened with alcohol and something more, something daring.
I turned to face her, our knees touching, the bare skin of our legs a silent promise of what could be. “Same here, Mom,” I confessed, my voice rougher than I intended, “Feels good to let loose, doesn’t it?” The words hung between us, heavy with implication. Her smile was lopsided, flushed from the drinks, and she nodded, her hair framing her face in a way that made her look younger and vulnerable.
“Johnny,” she said, her voice all husky and low, slurring just a little as she rolled her head to look at me. “You’re too damn good to me, y’know that? Hangin’ out with your ol’ mom, pourin’ me drinks…” She giggled a soft, throaty sound that sent a jolt straight to my cock. She reached for the bottle on the table, her fingers brushing mine as she grabbed it, and poured another messy splash into her glass. A little spilt over the edge, dripping down her hand. She licked it off her wrist slowly, her tongue flicking out pink and wet, and fuck, I couldn’t look away.
“Mom, you’re a mess,” I teased, grinning as I leaned closer, our shoulders almost touching now. Her hair smelled like lavender and sweat, and up close, I could see the faint freckles dusting her collarbone where the nightie didn’t cover. She smirked, tipping her head back to sip the whiskey, and a droplet slid down her chin, rolling slowly toward her neck. My eyes followed it, and I swear my dick twitched hard in my jeans, straining against the zipper.
“Oh, I’m a mess, huh?” she shot back, playful but with this edge to her voice—like she was daring me. She set the glass down, too hard, and it clinked loudly against the table. Then she turned to me, scooting closer so her knee pressed against my thigh. “Maybe I like bein’ a mess tonight. Feels… free, y’know? Like I don’t gotta be all put-together for once.” Her breath was hot against my cheek, sharp with liquor, and her tits brushed my arm again as she shifted. I could feel the heat of her skin, radiating through that thin silk, and it was driving me fucking crazy.
“Yeah, I get that,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than I meant. I reached for my own glass, taking a swig to steady myself, but it just burned down my throat and made the ache in my pants worse. “Feels good to just… let go, doesn’t it?” I set the glass down and turned to her, locking eyes. Hers were dark now, pupils blown wide, and her lips parted just a little, wet from the whiskey. She nodded slowly, biting her bottom lip, and I swear I saw her thighs press together under that nightie.
“Goddamn right it does,” she murmured, her hand landing on my knee sudden-like, fingers squeezing light but firm. “Johnny, you ever just… wanna do somethin’ stupid? Somethin’ you know you shouldn’t, but it’s all you can think about?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and her nails dug into my jeans a little, sending a spark up my leg. She leaned in closer, her tits pressing against my arm now, soft and heavy, and I could feel her breath on my neck—hot, shaky like she was holding something back.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so loud I figured she could hear it. “Yeah, Mom,” I said, turning my head so our faces were inches apart. “All the fuckin’ time.” Her eyes flicked down to my mouth, then back up, and I caught that restless spark again—like she was teetering on the edge of something wild. The room felt smaller, the heat pressing in, and all I could think about was that phone call—her wanting to be thoroughly fucked, her voice purring about Marco’s biceps and big, thick wood. Shit, was she thinking it now? WasI?
She let out a shaky laugh, pulling back just a bit, but her hand stayed on my knee, warm and steady. “You’re trouble, Johnny,” she said, smirking, but her voice trembled at the edges. “Makin’ me feel all… reckless like this. What’s a mom supposed to do with a son like you, huh?” She tilted her head, hair spilling over one shoulder, and the nightie slipped a little, showing more of her chest—smooth skin, a faint tan line peeking out. My cock throbbed, rock hard now, and I shifted to hide it, but her eyes flicked down quickly like she noticed.
“Guess you could just… go with it,” I said, low and rough, testing the waters. Her breath hitched, just for a second, and she squeezed my knee harder. The tension hung there, thick and heavy, and I wondered how far she’d let this go—how far I’d let it go—before one of us snapped.
“Fuck I need a piss,” as I was getting up she could see I had… a tent. I was hard, and I saw her jaw drop and I added, “Yeah I might be awhile, might have to see to this too.”
“Jesus, Johnny,” she muttered, voice low and shaky, her gaze flicking up to my face then back down to my crotch real quick, like she couldn’t help herself. She licked her lips—slow, unintentional—and shifted on the couch, thighs pressing together under that short hemline. “You, uh… you’re not kiddin’, huh?” Her laugh came out nervous, a little breathy, and she reached for her glass, fingers trembling as she took a quick sip.
I left the room embarrassed, I had to get some relief. I went upstairs to the toilet and struggled to piss as I was throbbing. I had to literally lean way forward to aim at the toilet bowl. I will see to this beast after I pissed.
The relief of finally emptying my bladder was immense, but the throbbing was intense. I finished pissing and I took a good grip on my shaft. Here we go, as I started pumping my hand up and down.
The rhythmic pumping felt incredible, the pressure building with each stroke. My breath hitched in my throat, a low groan escaping my lips as the pleasure intensified. I couldn’t get nasty thoughts out of my head as my hand went faster as I whispered ‘Mom’ I gritted my teeth as I cumshot to the back of the toilet seat which was up. Shit, I got some cleaning to do.
After cleaning I slowly went back downstairs. I could hear her moaning, “ummm, yes.”
“You ok Mom,” I said as I entered she quickly got a cushion and covered her crotch. Damn was she playing with herself? I made my way to the couch and sat down. Her hand was still moving under the cushion as she struggled to answer me.
“Yeah, yeah, fine,” she mumbled, her voice thick with desire. Her eyes darted to mine for a moment before darting away again. “Just… Just needed to adjust my position. Umm… I, am ok, b-baby don’t w… worry o-ok.”
“Alright Mom,” I said slowly pushing my way closer to her on the couch “Tell me what you need.” My eyes locked onto hers as she shifted nervously under my gaze.
The air crackled with unspoken tension as our bodies pressed closer together on the couch as I moved in towards her side.
“I…” she started but trailed off again as I got close enough for our thighs to touch.
I snatched her cushion away and saw her nightie up a little and she had two fingers pumping her hairy slit. There’s no hiding the wetness on those swollen lips or how she’s parting them eagerly for those fingers’ relentless rhythm.
“Mom,” I breathed out huskily, my gaze dropping to where she worked herself open with fervor. “Don’t stop on my account.” My voice gravelly with need.
She bit down hard on that lush lip, glazed eyes locked onto mine as if daring me to dare more—but oh god did it arouse us both further. She whimpered softly against a moan building up inside her throat while pushing deeper into slick folds already swollen for touch.
“You shouldn’t… be seeing this,” despite words slurring slightly from drink or desire—or both—the plea was weak at best; an invitation flickered there too hot to ignore.
“But Mom—”I leaned closer still—”what if I want to see? What if…” My thumb brushed over back of her hand coaxing one finger aside so just mine could join hers sliding along those juicy lips now splayed wide for me.”What you’re doing is exactly what you crave.”
A shudder ran through her body at contact—a strangled cry escaping—and then resistance melted like wax under flame: “…Oh fuck…”
With our combined effort plunging gentle yet firm inside warm depths—it wasn’t enough—I watched entranced by Mom succumbing fully beneath trembling breaths and hitched sighs spilling past parted lips. “Necessary evil?” She panted between strokes we shared intimately close now—her flesh yielding eagerly around our digits’ invasion—a forbidden dance igniting primal fires within us both.
“Yeah… Evil’s got nothing on this feeling,” slipping another digit alongside hers in rhythm making sure not to miss any inch untouched by pleasure’s demand.“Gotta admit though—you’re gorgeous when desperate.”
In response came that ragged chuckle edged with shameless craving, “God Johnny! Don’t make fun. Oh god, I shouldn’t be fingering in front… of you, ummm.”
“Then don’t, let me instead.” I removed her hand and swung her legs onto the couch and laid her down, “J-Johnny… w-what are you doing. Johnny… we can’t,” she breathed out—but it lacked conviction; a plea hanging between us like a dare.
“Don’t be mad with me, but… I heard that phone call earlier. Every word,” I said as I got in between her legs and pulled my zipper down, “so I am giving you a good servicing, see this cock. Look at it throb for you, look where I am putting it. Right against your hairy pussy lips.”
She arches slightly into my hand—a silent plea—and bites back another moan while hazel eyes smouldering meet mine with full-on challenge. “You shouldn’t have listened,” comes out breathy defiance mixed with undeniable want. “Oh my god you have a fucking big cock, you wouldn’t put it inside me… would you. Fuck will you, I want it.”
I push forward as the mushroom head of my throbbing cock parts her labia.
“Johnny… we’re playing a very dangerous game here,” she warns, yet there’s an unmistakable hunger underlying every syllable.
I smirk down at her with a devilish glint in my eye, inching just the swollen head inside that heat; feeling it envelop me like velvet vice. “Consider this your redemption then,” I tease huskily—and plunge deeper than words could ever reach.
Mom throws back her head on a shuddering moan—the sound guttural and unrestrained—as I fill her to the hilt.
I gasped as I pushed deeper inside Mom, feeling her tight pussy stretch around my thick cock. Her eyes were wide, a mix of shock and undeniable lust as she gripped my shoulders.
“Oh god, Johnny,” she moaned, her hips bucking up to meet my thrust. “We shouldn’t… but fuck, you feel so good inside me.”
I started to move, slowly at first, savoring the incredible sensation of her wet heat enveloping me. “You like that, Mom? You like how your son’s big cock fills you up?”
She whimpered, her nails digging into my skin. “Yes, baby. Oh fuck yes. Give Mommy what she needs.”
I picked up the pace, slamming into her harder as the couch creaked beneath us. Her tits bounced with each thrust, nipples hard and straining against the thin fabric of her nightie. I couldn’t resist anymore – the neckline I yanked it down, exposing her full breasts.
“That’s it,” I growled, lowering my head to suck a nipple into my mouth. “Let me see those gorgeous tits while I fuck you.”
Mom cried out in pleasure, her back arching. “Oh Johnny! Suck Mommy’s tits while you pound her pussy. Make me cum on your big cock!”
“Oh god, Johnny!” Mom cried out, her body writhing beneath me as I pounded into her relentlessly. Her fingers clawed at my back, leaving red trails in their wake. “I’ve missed this so much… fuck, I’ve needed a real cock for so long!”
I growled, gripping her hips tighter as I slammed into her. The wet sounds of our coupling filled the room, mixing with our moans and the creaking of the couch. “Tell me, Mom. Tell me how much you’ve missed it.”
“So fucking much, baby,” she gasped, her eyes rolling back as I hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Toys don’t compare… nothing compares to a hard, throbbing cock stretching me open. Especially yours, oh fuck!”
I leaned down, capturing a nipple between my teeth and tugging gently. Mom arched her back, pushing her breast further into my mouth. “Please, Johnny… don’t stop. Mommy needs this so badly. I’ve been empty for too long!”
I continued to pound into her, my cock slamming deep into her pussy as I sucked on her nipple. Mom’s body was writhing beneath me, her hips bucking up to meet each thrust. She was moaning loudly, the sound echoing off the walls as she begged for more.
“Oh god, Johnny! Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” she cried out, her fingers clawing at my back.
I growled in response, gripping her hips tighter as I slammed into her harder. The wet sounds of our coupling filled the room, mixing with our moans and the creaking of the couch.
“Tell me how much you love it,” I demanded huskily grabbing a handful of hair pulling my head back and making eye contact, “Look at me Mom tell me.”
Mom’s eyes fluttered open just for a moment locking onto mine then rolling right back again so lost in ecstasy. “Oh baby…oh Johnny… I love your cock inside mommy sooo muchhh…” Her voice trailed off there now only gasps left escaping those swollen lips.
I pulled her hair back, making her look at me again, my eyes locked onto hers. “Say it louder, Mom,” I demanded huskily. “Tell me how much you love my cock inside you.”
Mom’s eyes fluttered open once more, and she gazed up at me with a mixture of ecstasy and desperation. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was laced with an undeniable passion. “I…love…your cock…inside mommy…” She trailed off again as another wave of pleasure washed over her.
I released her hair and grabbed hold of the couch for support as I pounded into her harder still. The sound of our bodies crashing together filled the room – wet slapping sounds that seemed to echo in time with our ragged breathing.
The couch creaked under us now threatening to give way under pressure from this raw unbridled energy we were unleashing upon each other.
“Harder!” Mom begged suddenly breaking free from moans; tears streaming down face yet wanton need screaming louder than pain or shame could ever drown out.”Johnny please! Pound mommys pussy like your life depends on it!”
My response came instantly: faster pounding drove deeper within slick folds tight around throbbing length gliding effortlessly along well lubricated channel spurring higher cries erupting freely without restraint uninhibited wild abandon rocking through entire frame sweat-drenched sheets tangled beyond recognition.
“Oh god Johnny yes!! Keep going keep going dont stop!! Oh baby i can feel myself cumming so hard its gonna rip right through every last shred left holding anything else intact…”
I gripped the couch tighter, my knuckles white as I pounded into her with reckless abandon. The sound of our bodies crashing together grew louder, the wet slapping sounds echoing off the walls as we both lost ourselves in the raw energy of our lovemaking. I continued to hammer into her aching wet hairy needy fucking gash.
The couch creaked and groaned beneath us, threatening to give way under the pressure of our intense passion. But I didn’t care – all that mattered was making Mom cum harder than she ever had before.
I drove deeper into her, my cock gliding effortlessly along her well-lubricated channel as she screamed out in ecstasy. Her body arched up off the couch, her tits bouncing wildly as she begged for more.
“Oh god, Johnny yes!! Keep going keep going dont stop!!” she cried out, tears streaming down her face yet wanton need screaming louder than pain or shame could ever drown out.
Her pussy tightened around me like a vice grip then released suddenly spurring even higher cries erupting freely without restraint uninhibited wild abandon rocking through the entire frame sweat-drenched sheets tangled beyond recognition.
Mom’s voice rose to a fever pitch “IM CUMMING OH GOD IM CUMMING SO HARD JOHNNY!!!”
She let go completely now thrashing about uncontrolledly bucking hips furiously against mine which only sent me further over the edge myself gasping air struggling to stay upright while pounding mercilessly.
And then it happened – she let out a loud scream and squirted all over me, the warm liquid splashing against my stomach and thighs. It was like a trigger had been pulled, sending me tumbling over the edge into my own orgasm.
I came hard, pumping jet after jet of cum deep into Mom’s pussy as she continued to thrash about beneath me. The sensation was intense, almost overwhelming as our bodies seemed to melt together in a frenzy of pleasure.
As the last of my cum dripped out of me, I collapsed onto Mom’s chest, gasping for air. She was still thrashing about beneath me, her body shuddering with aftershocks.
I rested my forehead on hers smirking with my cock still inside her softening, “Was that thoroughly enough.”
Mom’s chest heaved beneath me, her breasts rising and falling with each ragged breath. She was still panting, her eyes glazed over in a post-orgasmic haze. Her skin glistened with sweat, and I could feel the heat emanating from her body.
“Y-yes…” she stuttered, trying to form words but struggling to find the strength. “Oh god… Johnny…”
Her voice trailed off as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me closer into a tight hug. We lay there like that for a moment, our bodies entwined as we caught our breath.
As the silence between us grew thicker, I knew that things had changed forever between us. The line we’d crossed couldn’t be uncrossed. But at that moment, I didn’t care.
“Next time we do it in your bed mom,” I said pulling my cock out her cum stained pussy hole.
“Who said we are doing it again,” she said sitting up.
“Oh we will, you know you want this again,” I tucked my cock back away and sat down.
She smirked and all she said wasm “Y-yes sweetie, that be great.”