I was sprawled out on the living room couch, feeling restless and counting the minutes until my mom came home. Honestly, these new work obligations of hers were getting old. She’d land a fancy client, then head out for hours of pricey dinners and schmoozy events, leaving me behind. You’d think having an empty house on a Saturday would be awesome. I mean, I was eighteen—I could do whatever I wanted, right? Except none of my friends lived close enough to drop by, and Mom’s car was gone, which meant I couldn’t exactly escape anywhere. It felt less like a cool “home alone” scenario and more like a subtle form of house arrest, except at least I still had my phone and gaming consoles.
I tried getting lost in a few rounds of Halo on my Xbox, but after a while, even my favourite shooter got stale. I’d replayed the same missions so many times recently it was starting to feel like a chore. What I really craved was heading out to the gym, going for a long run, or maybe just cruising into town to hang out somewhere with real human beings. But nope, stuck here again. Lucky me.
Eventually, I gave up on gaming and started browsing my streaming apps to find something—anything—worth watching. To my surprise, I noticed they’d just dropped an extended cut of “Avengers: Endgame.” We’re talking an extra hour of footage. I grinned, thinking, “Okay, four hours of epic superhero showdowns? That’s something I can sink my teeth into.” That little discovery totally lifted my mood. Suddenly, my boring evening had potential.
Determined to make this into a proper chill session, I hopped off the couch and headed for the kitchen. Half an hour later, I had a pepperoni pizza sizzling away in the oven. While it baked, I darted upstairs for a hot shower, letting the steam clear my head. About twenty minutes later, I emerged feeling fresher, grabbed my pizza, a bottle of Coke, dimmed the lights, and settled back onto the couch. The movie began, and the world outside sort of melted away.
Around three hours in, just when Captain America was doing something epic, I heard a soft scraping sound near the front door, then the doorbell rang. I glanced at the clock—it was almost midnight. I sighed. Mom was home. Hitting pause, I begrudgingly got up. If history repeated itself, she’d be struggling with the keys again. More than once these late-night returns ended with me having to open the door because she’d had a few too many drinks trying to impress some bigwig client.
Before I opened up, I peered through the peephole just to be safe. Sure enough, there she was: Mom in her sleek black short cocktail dress, leaning heavily against the door, trying to fit the key into the lock and occasionally fumbling for the doorbell. In the driveway, the hired limo driver waited for a signal she was in safely. “Here we go,” I muttered and swung the door open.
She practically toppled inside.
“Whoa, careful!” I said, catching her by the shoulders. “Hey, Mom.”
She laughed, sounding a little breathless, “Hi, honey… sorry, I’m fine, I’m fine. Just… these heels and this stupid lock!” She tried to stand upright, her breath smelling faintly of expensive wine. I waved at the limo driver, who nodded and drove off. Once the car’s taillights vanished, I gently guided Mom inside. The plan was simple: park her in the recliner, and then I could get back to my movie. But as soon as we got near the couch, she made a beeline for it.
“Oooh, this couch feels way comfier,” she purred, dropping herself onto the cushions and kicking one leg up. “You’re such a gentleman, helping your old mom like this.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. “Mom, you’re not old. Just… take it easy, okay?” I reached for the remote and realized I’d have to watch from an awkward angle now. The recliner chair didn’t have the best view of the TV, and I really wanted to get back to the movie. Still, what could I do? Mom was already settled in, her black dress riding up a bit on her thighs as she got comfortable.
“Hey, let me get you something,” I offered, heading into the kitchen. I grabbed a couple of sodas and reheated a few slices of leftover pizza. Maybe some food would sober her up a tad. She looked like she could use it. On my way back, I hesitated in the hallway, noticing just how nice she looked. Her hair, styled professionally, spilt over her shoulders. A pearl necklace glinted softly in the dim light. She was a successful woman—smart, tough, elegant—and this job, while demanding, was definitely paying off. Her wardrobe alone screamed confidence.
When I returned, Mom was struggling to take off her strappy heels.
“Ugh, these shoes are evil,” she complained, fumbling with the long laces. “They look great, but I swear they’ve got a personal vendetta against my feet.”
“Here, let me help,” I said, setting down the pizza and soda. I crouched down in front of her and gently took hold of her foot, unlacing the heels carefully. She giggled when I tugged on a knot.
“Oh, you’re the best,” she said, reaching out and ruffling my hair in that affectionate, tipsy way. “You know how to take care of your mom.”
I managed a smirk. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.” I got the first shoe off and then the second, placing them neatly by the front door. Her feet were freed, and she curled them beneath her on the couch, snuggling into the corner and taking a cautious sip of soda.
“Mm, pizza,” she murmured, taking a slice. “This smells amazing.”
“It’s all yours. I’ve got more,” I said, settling next to her. I unpaused the movie, trying not to talk over the epic final battle scene that was unfolding on screen. But Mom, feeling chatty, leaned forward, eyes on the TV.
“What are we watching, babe?” she asked, her words slightly slurred but understandable.
“Extended cut of ‘Avengers: Endgame,’” I said, trying not to sound annoyed. I mean, I was pretty deep into the plot and didn’t really want to start from scratch. “They added a bunch of extra scenes.”
“Ooh, I remember this one,” she said, taking a small bite of pizza. “Is this where they all fight that big purple guy? Thanos, right? Mmm, this pizza’s great.”
“Yeah,” I nodded, hoping she wouldn’t force me into a recap. But no luck.
“I always thought Captain Marvel was stunning,” she said, leaning her head back and closing her eyes for a second. “And Thor, oh my God, that man… he’s just… mwah,” she made a dramatic kissing sound and giggled. “So handsome. I bet he’s super nice in real life.”
I chuckled. “I’m sure he is, Mom. Want some more soda?”
She gave me a playful pout. “You know what would be even better? A teensy bit of whiskey. Just a small one. Pleeease?”
I knew I should say no. She was already a few glasses deep, but she seemed in a good mood and not out of control. “All right, but only if you promise it’s the last one for tonight,” I relented, standing up and moving to the liquor cabinet. I poured her a small amount of her favourite Scotch, just enough to appease her without going overboard.
“You’re an angel,” she said, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. She took a slow sip this time, savouring it. “You’re always so sweet to me. I love you, honey.”
I felt a warmth in my chest. “Love you too, Mom,” I said, settling in beside her again.
We let a few minutes pass in comfortable silence, just the soundtrack of epic battles filling the room. She finished off her drink and set the empty glass aside before leaning over, resting her head on my shoulder. Her hair smelled like some fancy conditioner, and I could feel her relax against me. I turned the volume up a notch, and the two of us just sat there, bathed in the glow of the TV screen.
“Thanks for waiting up for me,” she said softly, not taking her eyes off the screen. “I know this job’s been… well, a lot lately.”
I shrugged slightly, not wanting to disturb her. “It’s okay. I know you’re doing it for both of us.”
She gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “You’re such a good son,” she murmured. “I’m so proud of you, you should be out with friends, or meeting girls, not nursing your mom.” She yawned and rested her head on my lap to watch the movie as she relaxed lying on the couch as she sighs.
I shifted uncomfortably as Mom’s head came to rest in my lap, her breathing steady and slow. My eyes drifted down to her chest, the curves of her cleavage peeking out from the low neckline of her dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and I could see the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she exhaled.
Suddenly, my mind went blank and my body responded before I could stop it. A stirring of arousal began in my groin, and before I knew it, my cock was hardening, straining against my jeans. Panic set in. What the fuck was happening? This was my mom, for Christ’s sake!
I tried to subtly adjust my position, hoping to relieve the pressure, but it only seemed to make things worse. My dick throbbed with need, and my face flushed with embarrassment and shame.
“Mom, I-” I managed to stammer, but before I could finish, she spoke up.
“You look uncomfortable, sweetie,” she said, her voice soft and concerned. “Is it the position or… something else?”
Embarrassment turned to horror as I realized she had seen the bulge in my pants. My mouth went dry, and I struggled to find words.
“N-no, it’s not that,” I stuttered. “I just… I didn’t mean to.”
She lifted her head from my lap and looked up at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not telling me the truth, are you?” she said, her tone gentle but firm.
I shook my head helplessly, feeling like a trapped animal.
Before I could react, she reached up and undid the button of my jeans, then slipped her hand inside, her fingers wrapping around my rigid shaft. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as she began to stroke me, her touch warm and confident.
“Mmm, you’re so hard for me, baby,” she purred, her voice dripping with desire. “I think what you needed was a little help.”
Oh god, what was happening? This was my mom, and she was touching me inappropriately, but it felt so damn good. I bit my lip to stifle a groan, my hips instinctively bucking into her hand.
She pulled her hand out of my jeans and brought it to her lips, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of my cock before taking it into her mouth. I gasped, my eyes widening as I watched my own erection disappear between those plump, painted lips.
She began to suck, her tongue swirling around the head of my dick as she took me deeper into her warm, wet mouth. I felt my balls tighten, a surge of pleasure coursing through me as she worked me with skillful abandon.
When she finally released me with a pop, I was panting and dazed, my cock still rock-hard and twitching with need.
“My god, Mom,” I managed to choke out. “This is… I can’t…”
She smiled up at me, her eyes glinting with mischief and something darker. “What, baby? You can’t what?”
Her hand drifted down to the hem of her short dress, her fingers teasing at the edge of her panties. The fabric was damp, and I could see the dark outline of her arousal.
“I’ve been so lonely,” she whispered, her voice heavy with longing. “So empty. And you, sweetie… you’ve grown into such a handsome young man. I think it’s time I showed you just how much I appreciate you.”
With that, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slowly peeled them down her thick thighs, revealing the lush, thatched mound of her pussy. Her outer lips were swollen and glistening with desire, the coarse hairs there tangled with her slick juices.
“I haven’t had a cock inside me in years,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing with nude. “But my nipples are so hard… and my pussy is aching for it. Do you want to put it somewhere it shouldn’t?”
She spread her legs wider, the fabric of her dress riding up to expose the tops of her thighs. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation as she lay back on the couch, presenting herself to me in a brazen display of motherly lust.
I swallowed hard, my mind reeling with the taboo of the situation. But as I looked at her bare, eager flesh, I couldn’t deny the primal urge that took hold of me.
“Mom,” I breathed, my voice shaking with a mix of fear and desire. “Are you sure about this?”
She gave me a sultry smile, her hands reaching up to cup her heavy breasts. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, baby. Show me what your cock can do.”
I laid on top of her sliding my dick up and down her hairy pussy. I slowly pushed the head of my cock inside.
Slowly, I began to thrust, sinking deeper into her neglected pussy with each stroke. She was tight and wet, her body welcoming mine with a fervour that took my breath away.
As I sank into her, the reality of the situation hit me like a tidal wave. This was my mother, lying beneath me, her body opening to accept my cock. It felt incredible, her wet heat enveloping me, her arousal coating every inch of my shaft. But beneath the pleasure, a nagging sense of wrongness lingered, refusing to be ignored.
I tried to focus on the sensation, on the way her muscles tensed and relaxed around me as I fucked her. Her moans were like music to my ears, a symphony of desire that urged me on. But with each thrust, the guilt grew, until it was a constant, gnawing presence in the back of my mind.
“Mom,” I gasped, my pace slowing as I struggled to reconcile the conflicting emotions. “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s… it’s wrong.”
She reached up and cupped my face, her fingers tracing the lines of my jaw. “Shh, baby,” she whispered, her eyes locked on mine. “Don’t think about that now. Just feel. Let yourself lose control for once.”
I wanted to resist, to pull away and end this before it went any further. But her touch, her words, they were like a drug, clouding my judgment and eroding my resolve. I knew I should stop, but the pleasure was too intense, and my cock was too eager to obey her sensual commands.
“Fuck, Mom,” I groaned, sinking deeper into her as I picked up speed again. “You’re so tight… so wet… I can’t—”
“I know, sweetie,” she purred, her hips rising to meet my thrusts. “You can’t help yourself. You want this, just as much as I do.”
I stared at her pussy as my cock slid in and out of my mom’s hairy pussy. Still couldn’t believe I was on top of her and she was taking my dick repeatedly.
“Oh, baby,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut as she savoured the sensation of having a cock inside her after so long. “That feels so good… don’t stop.”
And in that moment, I realized she was right. The taboo nature of our coupling only seemed to heighten the intensity, making every touch, every penetration, a thrilling violation of the sacred boundary between parent and child.
I leaned down and captured her mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss, my tongue delving deep to tangle with hers. She responded with equal passion, her hands roaming my back and shoulders as I continued to plunge into her sopping cunt.
As we lost ourselves in the heat of the moment, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of us, entwined in a dance of forbidden lust. I could feel my release building, the pressure coiling in my groin as my thrusts grew more erratic.
“Mom, I’m going to—” I warned, my voice strained with the effort of holding back.
“Yes, baby,” she breathed, her nails digging into my back. “Give it to me. Fill me up with your hot cum.”
And with that, I was lost. My cock spasmed, erupting deep inside her as I emptied myself into her eager womb. She cried out in pleasure, her own orgasm crashing over her as my seed pumped into her neglected pussy.
As the aftershocks faded, I lay still atop her, my softening cock still buried within her warmth. We were both panting, sweat-slicked and sated, the reality of what we’d done sinking in slowly.
I knew we couldn’t keep this up, that eventually, the guilt and shame would consume me. But for now, at this moment, I let myself bask in the glow of our perverse passion, knowing that this was a secret we would both cherish… for a little while longer, at least.