It had been weeks since Derek had really looked at me—really seen me. He used to hold my face in his hands like I was the most precious thing he’d ever known. Now, his touch was a distant memory. The nights were the hardest. I’d lie beside him, staring at his back as he drifted off, pretending not to notice when I reached out and he subtly moved away. It was like losing him one piece at a time.
Sandra said I was overthinking it. “He’s probably stressed with work,” she’d suggested over the phone. But I couldn’t stop the nagging questions that kept me awake at night. Was it me? My body? My face? I wasn’t twenty-five anymore, but I thought I’d aged well. I worked hard to stay in shape, kept my hair done, wore makeup even when I didn’t feel like it. But none of it seemed to matter. Derek didn’t seem to care.
One evening, I was sitting in the kitchen after dinner, wrapped in my robe, sipping wine. Derek had gone to bed early, as usual, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Carl walked in, his footsteps hesitant. He had just come home for the weekend, and I was still adjusting to how different he looked. College had given him a new confidence—broader shoulders, sharper features—but there was still a boyish softness around the edges. His dark hair was slightly messy like he’d been running his hands through it.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, opening the fridge. “You’re still up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I swirled my wine, staring into the glass. The faint scent of detergent and lavender hung in the air from the day’s cleaning. “Your dad went to bed hours ago.”
Carl pulled out a bottle of water and leaned against the counter, watching me. His eyes lingered for a second too long on my robe. I noticed but didn’t say anything. Instead, I tightened the sash subtly, hoping he hadn’t caught the movement.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice quiet. He seemed to choose his words carefully like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.
I laughed softly, though there was no humour in it. “Why wouldn’t I be? Everything’s fine.”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” he said, his gaze dropping. “I mean… I heard you the other night. On the phone.”
My chest tightened. I set the glass down a little too hard, the sound ringing out in the quiet kitchen. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, Carl.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “I just… heard you. Talking about Dad. About how he…” He trailed off, his cheeks flushing.
I felt a wave of heat creep up my neck. “That wasn’t meant for your ears,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “It’s between me and your father.”
“I know,” he said, but his eyes stayed locked on mine. There was something in them I couldn’t quite place—concern, maybe, or something deeper. “I just hate seeing you like this, Mom. You deserve better.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. I turned away, busying myself with wiping the counter even though it was already spotless. “You don’t understand, Carl. Relationships are complicated. Marriage is complicated.”
“I understand enough,” he said softly, but there was an edge to his voice. “I see how he treats you.”
I spun around, my robe parting slightly as I did. His eyes flickered downward for a brief moment before darting back to my face. It was so fleeting that I almost missed it, but it was enough to send a shiver through me. I pulled the robe tighter again, my fingers trembling.
“This isn’t something you need to worry about,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady. “It’s my marriage, Carl. Not yours.”
He hesitated, like he wanted to say more but thought better of it. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. Goodnight, Mom.”
I watched him go, my heart pounding. There was something in his tone, his posture, that left me feeling unsettled. Vulnerable.
The next day was my day off, and I threw myself into cleaning to distract myself from the awkwardness of the night before. Carl had left for campus that morning, Derek was at work, and the house was blissfully quiet. I saved the bathroom for last, scrubbing the tub with more force than necessary.
I was bent over scrubbing the tub, my flimsy nightie riding up to expose the curves of my ass. It was my day off from work and the house was quiet. My son Carl was away at college and my husband Derek was supposed to be at the office.
I heard the front door go, I smiled and called out loudly in a playful tone, “You’re home early, honey. I thought you’d be at the office all day I am cleaning the bathroom.”
But there was no response. Just the sound of footsteps entering the bathroom behind me. I continued scrubbing the tub, assuming it was Derek coming up to surprise me.
Suddenly, I felt a pair of large hands grab my nightie and yank it up over my hips. I let out a startled gasp as cool air hit my bare ass and my panties were tugged down to my thighs.
“Oh, being silent are we?” I giggled, shaking my ample rear at him. “Mmm, we haven’t done it doggy style in ages haven’t we, dear? its about time you gave me a good seeing to.”
I heard his zipper unzip and then felt the thick head of his cock pushing insistently against my wet pussy. Letting out a pleasured moan, I pushed my hips back, helping guide him inside my hot, eager cunt.
“Oh fuck, you feel so good,” I purred, bracing my hands on the edge of the tub as he slowly pushed his thick shaft deeper inside me. “Have you been thinking about this all day?”
He grunted in response, giving a sharp snap of his hips to bury himself to the hilt in my tight heat. I whimpered and bit my lip, relishing the feeling of being so filled and stretched by his manhood after so long. We hadn’t had sex in over a month and this is exactly what my pussy needed.
Derek set a hard, fast pace, gripping my wide hips as he pistoled in and out of my sopping cunt. Wet, squelching noises filled the bathroom as he pounded me doggy style. I could feel every thick inch spearing into my core over and over, hitting me so deeply.
“Yes, fuck me harder,” I begged shamelessly, pushing my ass back to meet his rough thrusts. “I need it so bad. Use me like your slutty wife.”
He responded by drilling into me even more ferociously, his heavy balls slapping against my clit with every stroke. I cried out in ecstasy, my pussy clenching and fluttering around his plunging cock.
“Oh god, I’m gonna cum,” I wailed, clenching my teeth as I felt my peak rapidly approaching under his skilful, tireless fucking. “Don’t stop, make me cum on your cock!”
Derek snarled and somehow managed to fuck me even harder, slamming into my cervix. A few more deep, pounding thrusts were all it took to send me hurtling over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm.
“Ahhhh, fuck! I’m cumming!” I screamed, pussy spasming wildly on his pistoning shaft as I squirted all over his cock and balls. My legs nearly gave out but he held me up, continuing to drill me through the aftershocks.
The sound of his heavy grunts and the meaty smack of his hips against my ass filled my ears. I could feel his cock throbbing and knew he was close too. Wiggling my rear, I clenched my pussy around him rhythmically.
“Cum for me,” I panted. “Shoot your load deep in my pussy. Fill up your dirty wife’s cunt.”
With a strangled groan, he slammed deep one last time and I felt his cock erupt, pumping what felt like gallons of hot seed against my cervix. I moaned whorishly as spurt after spurt of his thick cum flooded my insides.
Finally spent, he collapsed against my back, both of us panting harshly from the intense fucking. I could feel his softening cock slipping out of my cum-filled hole.
“Mmm, that was incredible,” I sighed blissfully, reaching back to caress his hip. “I needed that so bad.”
Slowly, I pushed myself upright, Derek’s arms falling away from my waist. I turned around to face him with a satisfied smirk, expecting to see my husband’s flushed, happy face – but instead found myself staring at my son Carl. My heart stopped and my eyes went wide with shock.
“What the fuck?!” I screeched, hastily yanking my nightie back down. “CARL?! What the hell are you doing at home?! I can’t believe it was fucking you along.”
“Liked it didn’t you,” he smirked putting his cock away.
I hastily yanked up my panties and pulled my nightie back down to cover my naked ass. My son, my eyes wide with shock and humiliation at having just been fucked by him bent over the tub like a common whore. Deep down I felt bad as it felt so good.
I couldn’t believe it was my own 18-year-old son’s cock that had just erupted deep inside me, flooding my unprotected pussy with his potent teenage spunk. He had a smug, self-satisfied smirk on his handsome face as he casually zipped up his jeans.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said catching his breath.
“Carl, we can’t…this is so wrong,” I finally managed to stammer out, my cheeks flushing with shame. I quickly turned away from him, busying myself with wiping down the already clean sink in a desperate attempt to hide my flustered state.
“Oh come on Mom, don’t be like that,” Carl said, his voice low and persuasive as he came up behind me. I could feel the heat of his body against my back, his clothed erection pressing insistently against my ass through the thin fabric of my nightie. “We both know how much you needed that. How long it’s been since Dad touched you like that.”
I bit my lip, tears of humiliation pricking at the corners of my eyes. He was right, but that didn’t make this okay. It was so wrong, so taboo. He was my son, not my lover. And yet, my body was still responding to his proximity, craving his touch.
“Please Carl, we can’t do this again,” I pleaded, my voice breaking. “I’m your mother. This is…incest. It’s unnatural.”
His hands slid down my sides to my hips, squeezing possessively. “Dad works so much, he barely touches you anymore. You’re starving for it. And I’m more than happy to take care of that for you. I know I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you in that way. But, when I saw you bent over with your short nightie showing your small panties with your pussy flaps barely covered and your ass. I was rock hard.”
I knew I should push him away, put a stop to this now before it went any further. But my body was moving on its own, arching back against him wantonly. “Carl, please…” I whimpered, not even sure if I was begging him to stop or keep going.
“You don’t really want me to stop, do you Mom?” he purred, one hand sliding down to cup my mound through my nightie. I was so wet, I could feel my juices soaking through the fabric. “Your pussy is practically begging for my cock again already.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, my hips rocking shamelessly against his hand. He was right, I was so aroused, so desperate for more of his touch. My vibrator had never made me cum this hard before.
Carl chuckled in my ear, clearly pleased by my reaction. “That’s it, Mom. Just let go. Let me make you feel good.”
His fingers pushed my panties aside and slid through my slick folds, finding my clit. Pleasure zinged through me and I cried out, my hands clutching at his strong forearms. “Oh god, yes!” I panted, grinding down onto his hand.
“That’s my good girl,” he praised, circling my clit with expert precision. “You’re going to cum so hard on my fingers, aren’t you? Then I’m going to bend you over and fuck you again, right here in the bathroom.”
I was too far gone to protest, too lost in the intense pleasure he was giving me. “Yes, yes, fuck!” I wailed, my pussy clenching around his pistoning fingers as I came hard.
Carl worked me through my orgasm, his fingers continuing to stroke my sensitive flesh until I was a boneless, quivering mess. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, before hoisting me up and bending me over the bathroom counter. I barely had a chance to catch my breath before he was entering me again, his thick cock spreading me open and filling me up so perfectly.
It was wrong, so wrong, to let my own son fuck me like this. But it felt so incredibly right. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to make me cum harder than I ever had before. And the taboo thrill of it, the knowledge that we were doing something so dirty and forbidden, only made it better.
As Carl pounded into me from behind, one hand holding my hips in place while the other tweaked my nipples, I finally admitted to myself that I didn’t want to stop this. I needed him, craved the feeling of his young, virile body taking mine so thoroughly.
My husband had neglected me for so long, left me untouched and unsatisfied. But my son was more than making up for it. He was going to fuck me over and over again, as many times as I needed, until the ache between my legs was fully sated.
Carl was going to be my dirty little secret, the one I turned to in the dead of night when I needed a cock inside me. And despite the wrongness of it, a part of me relished the taboo thrill, the naughty excitement of having sex with my own son.
I was a cheating wife and an incestuous mother. And I never wanted it to stop.