The rain lashed against the windows of Maria’s apartment, mirroring the storm brewing inside her. It had been… how long? Months? Years? Lockdown had blurred time into an indistinguishable mush of anxiety and forced togetherness. She glanced at Adam, her son, sprawled on the sofa next to her. He was supposed to be working, ‘remotely,’ the buzzword of their isolating existence. But his laptop was closed, his attention fixed on the flickering images on the TV screen.
Tonight, they were watching some trashy rom-com, the kind Maria usually scoffed at. But lately, anything was better than the oppressive silence of their shared space, the gnawing claustrophobia that settled in after weeks, then months, of being confined together.
On-screen, the two leads finally succumbed to their simmering attraction. The music swelled as they kissed, clothes seemingly melting away in cinematic slow-motion, revealing perfect, toned bodies entwined amidst soft lighting. Maria shifted uncomfortably. Beside her, Adam’s breathing seemed to deepen. He was staring intently at the screen, jaw tight.
“God, this is so cheesy,” Maria said, her voice a little too loud, a little too brittle. She reached for the remote, ostensibly to lower the volume, but mostly to break the tension that had thickened in the air.
Adam didn’t look at her. “Yeah, totally. Predictable.” But his eyes remained glued to the screen as the movie couple moved to the bedroom, the camera lingering suggestively on bare skin and tangled limbs.
Maria felt a flush creep up her neck. It wasn’t just the movie. It was everything. The enforced closeness, the lack of other human contact, the constant proximity to her son, who wasn’t a boy anymore, not really. At twenty-three, Adam was a man, with a man’s body, a man’s…needs, she supposed. And lately, she, at forty-five, felt a restlessness she hadn’t experienced in years. A low thrum of…something, she refused to name it, vibrating beneath the surface of her skin.
The scene on screen was getting… explicit. Not pornographic, but definitely suggestive. Moans, soft gasps, close-ups of lips and hands entwined, the rhythmic sway of bodies. Maria found herself unable to look away. And she could feel Adam beside her, a heat radiating off him, his leg now subtly pressing against hers.
She glanced sideways, catching him just as he shifted his gaze from the screen to her. His eyes were dark, intense, and for a fleeting moment, something undeniable flared between them. A shared awareness, a spark of something forbidden.
He cleared his throat, abruptly pulling his leg away. “Anyway,” he said, his voice a little rough, “rubbish movie. Want to watch something else?” He reached for the remote himself, his hand brushing hers for a split second. The contact was electric.
Maria swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Yeah,” she managed, her voice shaky. “Anything else.”
But neither of them moved to change the channel. They sat in charged silence, the lingering images of the movie sex scene burning in their minds. The air in the small apartment felt thick, heavy with unspoken desires and years of suppressed boundaries.
“This lockdown thing,” Adam began, his voice low, almost hesitant, “it’s… it’s getting to me.”
Maria nodded slowly, staring straight ahead at the blank TV screen now. “Me too,” she admitted, the words barely a whisper. “It’s… suffocating.”
“Yeah,” Adam said again, and then, with a sudden burst of frustration, he slammed his fist lightly on the armrest. “I’m going crazy here, Mom. Stuck inside, can’t see anyone, can’t… do anything.”
Maria winced at the raw emotion in his voice. “I know, honey, I know. It’s hard on everyone.”
“Hard?” He scoffed. “It’s more than hard. It’s… I’m sexually frustrated as hell, okay?” He blurted it out, the words hanging heavy in the air.
Maria’s breath hitched. She felt a wave of heat wash over her face. She should be shocked, offended, maybe even angry. But… she wasn’t. Not really. Because somewhere deep down, a forbidden voice whispered, me too.
She didn’t respond immediately, couldn’t find the words. The silence stretched, thick with tension.
Adam shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that. Too much information.”
Maria finally found her voice, soft, hesitant. “No, it’s… it’s okay. It’s understandable. I mean, we’re all feeling it, right?” We? The word felt loaded, dangerous.
He looked up at her then, his eyes meeting hers again, and this time, there was no mistaking the raw longing there, the same unsettling spark she had glimpsed earlier.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible. “We all are.”
And then, before either of them could think, could reason, could pull back from the precipice, it happened.
Adam reached out, his hand tentatively cupping her cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle, sending shivers down her spine. She didn’t pull away. Couldn’t. She was frozen, caught in the gravity of his gaze, the unspoken desire that mirrored her own.
His thumb stroked her cheekbone, his eyes searching hers, asking a question she was terrified to answer, yet desperately wanted to.
Then, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, tentative, questioning. It was a soft touch, almost innocent, yet it ignited a fire within her, a long-dormant flame that roared to life.
She closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips as she leaned into him, deepening the kiss. It was no longer tentative, no longer questioning. It was hungry, desperate, a release of weeks, months of pent-up frustration and forbidden longing.
Their mouths opened, tongues meeting, exploring, tasting. His hand moved to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her hair. Hers found their way to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his t-shirt, the rapid beat of his heart mirroring her own.
The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. Clothes suddenly felt restrictive, suffocating. Adam pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with desire.
“Mom…” he breathed, the word a question, a plea.
Maria’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion and desire. Everything she knew, everything she believed, screamed no. This was wrong. So wrong. But in this moment, in this stifling confinement, surrounded by the suffocating weight of lockdown and unspoken loneliness, wrong felt… irrelevant. All she felt was a raw, visceral need, a desperate yearning for connection, for release.
She didn’t say no. She couldn’t. Instead, she reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, drawing him back to her. This time, she initiated the kiss, her mouth pressing against his with a fierceness that surprised even herself.
They moved from the sofa, stumbling towards her bedroom, their bodies pressed close, hands fumbling with clothes, discarding them in a trail across the floor. There was no finesse, no romance, just a raw, urgent need.
They fell onto the bed, tangled limbs and breathless gasps. Adam’s hands were everywhere, exploring her body, his touch both familiar and shockingly new. Maria moaned, arching into him, her own hands clutching at his back, pulling him closer.
He kissed her again, fiercely, passionately, before trailing kisses down her neck, her chest. She gasped as his mouth closed over her nipple, a jolt of pleasure so intense it was almost painful.
“Adam…” she whispered, her voice thick with desire.
He looked up at her, his eyes burning with intensity. “Tell me to stop,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
He slid his cock inside her vagina and she moaned as he started to slide his cock in and out.
Maria closed her eyes, she wanted the energy to stop. Could she? Did she want to? The truth was a roaring inferno inside her, consuming all reason. This was wrong, undeniably, irrevocably wrong. But it felt… right. God, it felt so right.
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. She saw not a boy, but a man, a man she had raised, a man who now held her captive in a web of forbidden desire. “Don’t,” she whispered, the word barely audible. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He surged forward, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding. Maria met him thrust for thrust, her body arching, her hips rising to meet his. The world narrowed, focusing on the sensation, the heat, the desperate rhythm of their bodies entwined.
“Ummm,” she moaned, the sound torn from her throat, raw and uninhibited. His name was a mantra on her lips, a desperate plea whispered between gasps. “Adam… Adam… more… please…”
He pounded into her, faster and harder, lost in the throes of passion, of need. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping her from falling off the edge of the world.
“Ahh honey, yes,” she gasped, her fingernails digging into his back. The pleasure was almost unbearable, a tidal wave threatening to consume her. She had been gagging for cock for months and this felt so good.
He leaned down, nuzzling her neck, his breath hot against her skin. “Mom,” he groaned, a ragged whisper against her ear. “Oh, Mom…”
His balls slapped against her as he went faster, harder, deeper. The sounds of their bodies colliding filled the small room – the slap of skin on skin, the ragged gasps for air, the desperate moans that echoed the turmoil in their souls.
“Fuck,” Adam stammered, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. “You feel so good… so tight…” Each word was punctuated by another thrust, another jolt of pleasure that sent shivers down Maria’s spine.
“Adam… oh, God, Adam…” she managed to choke out, her head thrashing against the pillow. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her body consumed by the overwhelming sensation. She could feel his sweat mingling with hers, the heat of his body radiating into her own, erasing the lines between them, blurring the boundaries of mother and son.
“Are you close?” he asked, his voice thick with passion, his movements becoming frantic.
“Yes… yes, almost…” she gasped, her body tensing, coiling like a spring about to break. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop…”
He didn’t. He drove into her with a force that stole her breath, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She felt a tightening, a spiralling sensation building inside her, a pressure that threatened to explode.
“Now, Mom… now!” he grunted, his body rigid, his muscles straining.
And then, it happened. A wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washed over her, a blinding flash of light that obliterated all thought, all reason, all guilt. She cried out, a primal scream that echoed the shattering of everything she had ever believed.
Adam groaned his body convulsing as he emptied himself inside her, his release raw and primal, a final act of transgression that sealed their fate.
The weeks following that night were a blur of guilt, shame, and a strange, undeniable connection. They barely spoke about what had happened, the unspoken act hanging between them like a thick, suffocating fog. They navigated their days in a tense silence, each acutely aware of the other’s presence, the air crackling with unspoken desires and simmering regret.
Then came the morning sickness.
Maria woke with a familiar lurch in her stomach, a wave of nausea so intense it sent her scrambling to the bathroom. She knelt before the porcelain throne, her body wracked with violent retching, the taste of bile bitter in her mouth.
As the spasms subsided, she leaned back against the cool tiles, her face pale and clammy. The faint morning light filtering through the window illuminated the lines of exhaustion etched around her eyes. It had been weeks since… that night. Could it be?
The thought struck her like a physical blow, leaving her breathless and trembling. She was past the age where pregnancy came easily, a fact she had gratefully accepted years ago. But the possibility, however remote, was undeniably there.
Lockdown was now slowly easing, but the lingering fear of infection still clung to the air. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to regain some semblance of composure. She had to know, one way or another.
Pulling on a loose-fitting top and jeans, she reached for her face mask, its sterile blue a stark reminder of the world outside, the world that had driven them both to the edge. As she adjusted the straps, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked hollow, haunted by the memory of that night, by the impossible act that now threatened to rewrite their lives.
She slipped out of the apartment, the metallic click of the door echoing in the silent hallway. The streets were slowly coming back to life, a hesitant dance of cautious optimism. People hurried past, their faces obscured by masks, their eyes conveying a mixture of relief and anxiety.
The chemist was just a few blocks away. She walked quickly, her head down, trying to avoid eye contact, her heart pounding against her ribs with each step. The bell above the door chimed as she entered, the familiar scent of antiseptic and medication filling her nostrils.
She scanned the shelves, trying to appear casual, her fingers tracing the labels of various vitamins and supplements. Finally, she located the pregnancy tests, a bewildering array of brands and promises. She grabbed the first one she saw, her hand trembling as she placed it on the counter.
The pharmacist, a young woman with kind eyes, smiled politely from behind her mask. “Can I help you with anything else today?”
Maria shook her head, her voice a barely audible whisper. “No, thank you.”
She paid for the test, her fingers fumbling with the coins. As she turned to leave, she caught the pharmacist’s gaze, a fleeting moment of understanding that sent a fresh wave of shame washing over her.
Back in the sterile confines of her bathroom, she tore open the package, her hands shaking so violently she almost dropped the test. She followed the instructions meticulously, her mind racing, her emotions a tangled mess of fear, hope, and utter disbelief.
Then, she waited.
The two minutes felt like an eternity. She watched the indicator window, her breath held captive in her chest, her eyes glued to the faint line that would either confirm her worst fears or grant her a reprieve.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the line appeared.
Faint, but undeniably there.
Positive.