Steam clung to the bathroom mirror, blurring my reflection as I reached for a towel. The shower hadn’t washed away my worries; they clung to me like the lingering mist. John’s slipping grades were gnawing at me, a constant source of anxiety. I wrapped the towel around myself, tucked the corner in securely, and padded into my room. The carpet felt soft under my feet, but my mind was restless, thoughts sharp and unsettled.
I rummaged through my drawers, pulling out my favourite set of matching underwear—a pink lace bra and panties that always made me feel a bit more put-together, even if no one else would see. Next, I grabbed a black skirt that hugged my hips just right. For the top, I chose a white blouse, unaware that a few of the top buttons were missing until I slipped it on and caught my reflection in the mirror.
The neckline dipped lower than I was comfortable with, revealing more than just a hint of cleavage. I adjusted it, debating whether to change it, but something about the look made me pause. It had been a long time since I felt truly confident. The reflection staring back at me seemed bold, a version of myself I hadn’t seen in ages. “You’ll do,” I whispered to myself, smoothing my skirt before heading down the hall.
Passing John’s room, his door was open, the faint hum of the PlayStation filling the hallway. He was sprawled in his chair, controller in hand, eyes glued to the screen. I leaned casually against the doorway, crossing my arms over my chest.
“John,” I called, my voice cutting through the sound effects. “Have you done your homework?”
“Hey, Mom,” he replied without looking up, his focus still on the game. “Not yet.”
I stayed put, letting my arms rest in a way that tightened the fabric of my blouse. For a moment, his eyes flickered to me—a quick, fleeting glance—but it was enough to notice the quick dip of his gaze. His cheeks flushed slightly before he refocused on the screen.
“John.” My tone softened, but my resolve remained firm. “This isn’t a joke. Your grades are slipping, and I’m really worried about you.”
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, his voice low and defensive.
I sighed, stepping into the room. “Then do something about it. You’re smart, but you can’t keep skating by. What’s really going on?”
He shrugged, his shoulders tense. “It’s just… hard, okay? I get distracted.”
I perched on the edge of his bed, watching him play. “Distracted by what? The game?” I teased gently, hoping to coax him into opening up.
“Not just the game,” he replied, his voice barely audible. He paused the game and finally looked at me, his expression torn between frustration and embarrassment. “It’s everything. School sucks, the teachers are always on my case, and…” He trailed off, running a hand through his messy hair.
“And?” I prompted softly.
He hesitated, glancing at me again, but this time his gaze lingered on my face. “I dunno. Just stuff.”
“Stuff,” I echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You think I’m going to let you off the hook with that vague answer?”
He let out a short laugh, finally relaxing a bit. “You’re so nosy, you know that?”
“Damn right I am,” I replied, smiling. “It’s my job. Now spill.”
“It’s just… hard to focus,” he admitted finally, his shoulders sagging. “Sometimes it feels like I’m trying to juggle a hundred things at once, and I can’t keep up.”
I nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for pushing him so hard lately. “I understand. But you don’t have to figure it all out by yourself, you know? Let me help.”
He gave me a sheepish smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I teased, ruffling his hair as I stood up. “Homework first, then you can get back to saving the world or whatever you’re doing in that game.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes but reaching for his textbook.
A few days had passed, and he still wasn’t learning. I had to have a good talk with him, he’s bloody 18 and still acting up.
I walked into John’s room, catching him off guard as he was in the middle of playing his video game. I could see the frustration building up in him as I brought up the topic of his grades once again.
“John,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “We need to talk about your grades. I know it’s not easy, but you need to focus and put in more effort.”
He let out a sigh and looked away from me. “I know, mom. It’s just hard, you know?”
I approached him and placed my hand on his shoulder. “I understand, but we need to find a solution. Is there anything bothering you? Anything that’s been distracting you?”
John hesitated for a moment before finally meeting my gaze. “Well, there is something…”
“What is it?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. “I’ve been having some…urges, mom. I can’t really focus on anything else.”
I raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going. “Urges? What kind of urges?”
John took a deep breath before finally spitting it out. “I’ve been having these…sexual thoughts, mom. I can’t seem to get them out of my head.”
I was taken aback by his confession, but I tried to remain calm and understanding. “John, it’s completely normal to have sexual thoughts at your age. But you need to learn how to control them and focus on your responsibilities.”
He looked up at me with pleading eyes. “I know, mom. But it’s hard. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I sighed, contemplating my next move. I knew I had to be careful with what I was about to suggest. “John, I tell you what. I’ll make a deal with you. If you can show me that you can focus and improve your grades, then I’ll…help you with your…urges.”
His eyes lit up with excitement, but he tried to hide it. “Really? You’d do that for me? like a free-use mom.”
“Free use mom, what does that mean?” I said with a curious face.
“Free use” is a term from pornography where a woman is willingly made available for sex at any time, with no expectations or limitations,” he explained, I was shocked. I mean I was thinking of sexual ways to help him with his studies but to use me whenever he wanted shocked me.
“I see,” I said slowly, processing his explanation. “Well, I suppose that could be one way to help you with your… urges. That depends, I want to see improvements over the next few days first.”
One evening when I was bent over on my hands and knees cleaning the floor, after a particularly grueling study session, John looked up at me with a weary smile. “I think I’ve earned it, Mom, I have been doing so well,” he said, his voice low and husky.
I felt him behind me lifting my skirt as I continued to scrub the floor, I felt him pull my panties to the side and ram his cock into my pussy.
I turned my head over my shoulder as he started to pound me hard, “Fucking hell John, ahhhhh fuck. You can’t just start shagging me on the kitchen floor oh fuck it feels good.”
“Why not, your free use,” he grunted, his hips slapping against my ass with each thrust. “You said I could have you whenever I wanted.”
I moaned, my face flushed with pleasure and embarrassment. “Yes, but I didn’t mean right here, right now!”
John didn’t seem to care, his grip on my hips tightening as he drove himself deeper into me. I could feel every inch of him, filling me up in a way that I hadn’t experienced in years. It was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so good.
“Oh God, John,” I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Ungh take it, Mom, god I can’t believe I am inside your pussy,” he panted slamming into me harder.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted, my body shaking with pleasure.
The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the kitchen, the scent of arousal heavy in the air. I could feel every inch of him, filling me up and stretching me wide. It was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so good.
“Oh God, John,” I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You like that, Mom?” he asked, his voice strained with pleasure. “You like feeling my cock inside you?”
“Yes,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I do. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this.”
“Fuck, mom, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his hips slapping against my ass with each thrust is cock sliding in and out my now sloppy pussy.
“Oh my fucking god, John. Don’t stop! Yes, yes, yeeeeesss,” I screamed as he pumped his cock into my dripping wet pussy hard and fast.
My hands were flat on the floor supporting myself as he pumped into me the sound of wet noises and pussy squelching around his cock.
His hands slid up from my hips to grab onto my ass cheeks as he continued to pound away at me relentlessly from behind. With each thrust, his heavy balls slapped against me.
I put my hand on my pussy and rubbed my clit hard and he notice, “That’s hot watching do that Mom.”
John’s thrusting became more erratic as his climax approached. His breathing was heavy and his grip on my hips tightened. I felt him swell inside of me, and I braced myself for the inevitable.
“Oh, fuck, mom! I’m gonna cum!” he cried out, his voice hoarse.
I felt a rush of heat as his orgasm took hold of him, filling me with his seed. He let out a guttural moan, his muscles tensing as he emptied himself inside of me.
As his orgasm subsided, his thrusts slowed down and eventually came to a stop. He pulled out of me with an audible pop, leaving me feeling empty and satisfied at the same time. I stood up and turned to face him, my chest heaving with exertion.
His cock was still semi-hard, covered in a mix of our fluids. He looked at me with a mixture of satisfaction and guilt, but I just smiled at him and gave him a gentle pat on the cheek.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” I said, wagging my finger at him. “No more slacking off on your studies. Just think the better you study then the more you can use me.”
I watched as the days turned into weeks and my son John became more and more dedicated to his studies. I knew he was doing it to keep up his end of the deal we had made. If he let his grades slip, he would lose the most tantalizing reward he could ever dream of: access to my body, to use as he pleased. The idea of losing that privilege pushed him to work harder than ever before. I could see the desire in his eyes every time he looked at me, and it made me feel desired and powerful. I was the one he wanted, the one he craved, and I held all the power in our arrangement. It was a heady feeling, and I revelled in it. I was his mother, but I was also so much more. I was his reward, his motivation, and his greatest desire. And I loved every minute of it.