The plane hummed beneath me, the steady vibration making my legs twitch. I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable, but my mind was elsewhere.
Flight attendants.
Okay, yeah, I know—I’m 18, hormones raging like a bull in a china shop, but come on. Is the one walking past right now? Dark hair, a perfect smile, and legs that went on for days. She caught me staring and smirked. I quickly looked away, face burning.
Smooth, Lee. Real smooth.
Next to me, Dad chuckled. “See something you like, son?”
I groaned. “Shut up.”
Mum, on the other side of Dad, rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you two are impossible.”
Dad winked at me. “Just appreciating the view.”
Mum smacked his arm. “You’re forty-five, act like it.”
I laughed, but my stomach flipped as the flight attendant passed again. God, I need to get a grip.
The heat hit me like a wall as we stepped off the plane. Sun, sweat, and the smell of salt in the air. Perfect.
Our hotel was nice—white walls, blue trim, a pool sparkling under the sun. Dad checked us in while Mum fussed with her bag.
“Room 214, and 213,” the receptionist said, handing Dad the keys.
I grinned. “Let’s dump our stuff and hit the beach.”
Mum nodded. “Sounds perfect. You can have 213 Lee me and Dad will have 214.”
We spent the day swimming, sunbathing, and eating greasy but amazing Spanish food. By evening, we were all a little sun-drunk and happy.
“Let’s grab a drink,” Dad suggested, pointing at a nearby bar with neon lights and loud music.
Mum shrugged. “Why not?”
Inside, the place was packed—laughter, clinking glasses, people dancing. Dad ordered us all sangrias.
I sipped mine, the sweetness hitting my tongue. “This is strong.”
Dad laughed. “That’s the point, kid.”
Mum was smiling, relaxed—until she walked by.
Tall, tanned, curves in all the right places. Dad’s eyes followed her. Not just a glance—a full-on stare.
Mum’s smile vanished.
“You’re disgusting Darren,” she hissed.
Dad blinked. “What? I didn’t—”
“Don’t even.” She stood up, grabbing her bag. “I’m going back to the hotel.”
“Wait, love—”
“No.” She stormed off.
I winced. Awkward.
An hour later, I’d had enough. The music was too loud, the drinks too strong, and Dad was sulking into his glass.
“I’m heading back,” I said, standing.
Dad grabbed my wrist. “Lee—wait.”
I frowned. “What?”
He sighed, rubbing his face. “Listen… your mum’s pissed. If I go back now, she’ll rip my head off.”
I groaned. “So?”
He gave me that please look. “Let me have your room tonight. You take mine. Just… give her time to cool off.”
I stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Come on, mate. Do me this one favor.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But you owe me.”
Dad grinned, relieved. “Cheers, son.”
When I returned to the hotel, I went into room 2014, Mum and Dad’s room. I tried to be quiet while Mum was in bed and asleep. I changed into my boxers and got into bed. Damn, wrong time to get a boner, I stared at the dark ceiling.
Mum was on her side facing away from me, she spoke half asleep, “I am sorry Darren about earlier.”
Wait she thinks I am Dad. She starts to talk and I just lay there and listen.
I froze.
Oh no. No, no, no.
Mum thought I was Dad. She was half-asleep, her voice soft but still sharp with leftover anger.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” she mumbled again, shifting under the sheets. “But you know how it looks when you stare like that.”
My throat went dry. Should I say something? If I spoke, she’d realize it was me and freak out. But if I stayed quiet…
She sighed. “You always do this. Every holiday. I just wanted one nice night without you eyeing up some girl half your age. Forget it can you at least cuddle me for once.”
I shuffled over and cuddled up to her my arm over her waist, I felt bad for her. All she wanted was some love and affection, Dad was an idiot.
Mum sighed as I wrapped my arm around her waist, relaxing into the cuddle. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it.
This is so wrong.
But she just let me spoon her position and she nestled her back against me, her body warm under the thin sheets. “You never hold me like this anymore,” she murmured sleepily as she pressed her ass against my crotch.
I didn’t answer. What the hell was I supposed to say?
Her hand found mine, fingers lacing through mine loosely. “Remember when we used to do this all the time? Before work and life and… everything got in the way?”
I swallowed hard. Oh God, this is getting too real.
She squeezed my hand. “You’re quiet tonight.”
Shit.
I let out a yawn to make her think I was tired, which I was. I just wanted her to think I was him to give her comfort.
Mum chuckled softly. “Mmm. Too many sangrias huh?” She sighed and then shocked me, “I left my knickers off, help yourself, honey, as my apology.”
The words hung in the air, thick and heavy like the humid Spanish night. My brain short-circuited. Did she just…?
“Please, we haven’t done it in ages, or can’t you get it up anymore oh sorry I am not some young Latina girl,” she said in a sad way.
I wanted to make her happy, should I pretend to be Dad. I reached down just under her nightgown and felt her smooth ass. My cock went even harder, oh fuck. I gently lifted one ass cheek and my fingers were on her hairy pussy.
Panic flooded me. This was spiralling out of control. It was one thing to offer comfort, another entirely to… this.
My fingers trembled as I touched her. Her skin was so soft, so warm. It was a shock to my system, a confusing mix of guilt, arousal, and a desperate need to escape.
But she was right. Dad hadn’t been making her feel desired, hadn’t been making her feel loved. And in this bizarre, twisted situation, I had the power to give her that, even if it was under false pretences.
I took my cock out of my boxers, I wet my hand to lube the head of my cock. I adjusted her leg a bit so I could put it inside her. I held her as I pierced her pussy as I slid deep inside, fuck she felt good. I started to thrust in and out.
Her breath hitched, a small moan escaping her lips. “Mmm, that’s nice, Darren. You still got it. Oh shit, your dick feels a lot bigger tonight.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. I continued the rhythm, trying to block out the reality of what I was doing. It was mechanical, a desperate act of self-preservation as much as it was an attempt to alleviate her loneliness. Each thrust was a denial, a refusal to acknowledge the implications of this insane charade.
She started to meet my thrusts, her body moving in response. Her breath grew ragged, her nails digging lightly into my arm. “Harder,” she whispered, the word thick with need. “Please, harder.”
I pushed harder, my movements becoming more frantic. The guilt was a dull ache in my chest, but the physical sensations were overwhelming. Her body was hot and responsive, her moans filling the small room.
I started to plow into her pussy hard and fast with her ass slapping against me, fuck her pussy was so good.
I was losing control, my mind a blur of lust and confusion. She was so close, so tight around me, and the pleasure was intoxicating.
“Darren… oh, Darren!” she gasped, her body arching as she came.
I was too far gone in the moment, her pussy was so good I continued to fuck her through her orgasm. My hand went around her and up her nightie, as I squeezed her tits as I pounded her hard. I didn’t want to cum, well not yet at least.
Her orgasm subsided, but I kept going, driving into her with a renewed intensity. I wanted to draw this out, to prolong the feeling of connection, of something, even if it was built on a foundation of lies.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. “Don’t stop,” she murmured, her voice still shaky. “Don’t you dare stop?”
I wanted to stop. I needed to stop. The longer this went on, the deeper I was digging myself into a hole I might never escape. But the hole I was in, my mum’s wet hole felt amazing. I have a girlfriend back home and hers doesn’t feel as good as this. Fuck it, I just kept going, I wanted her to have the best sex tonight.
Her inner walls gripped me tightly, and the sensation was sending me over the edge. “Unngh,” I grunted, trying to hold back, but the pressure was building. I wanted to scream, but I was holding it back.
“Ahhh Darren, oh wow you… ahhh never fucked me like this before. You feel so different… Ahh yes.” She moaned and moaned as she took my hard cock up that pussy.
She started talking dirty to me, “Ahh Darren my pussy, never been fucked, ahh yes, like tonight, are you trying to knock me up.” The sound of her ass clapping against my skin as I fucked her hard and deep.
“Uunngh,” I groaned, my voice muffled against her shoulder. I then started to kiss the side of her neck as I hammered into her harder, and harder.
I was so close to coming. I wanted to give her the best orgasm and sex tonight that she had ever had. I felt her smooth body under me as I plowed into her. “My pussy feels so good, Darren, it feels so warm inside me.” I reached down to rub her clit while I banged her and she moaned so loud and so hard.
My body tensed, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap. I was teetering on the edge, the pleasure intense, almost unbearable. One wrong move, one slip of the tongue, and the whole illusion would shatter.
“Unngh,” I groaned again, the sound rough and guttural. I hoped it sounded like Dad. It had to.
She writhed beneath me, her nails digging into my back. “Yes, Darren, god I hope Lee doesn’t hear us, fuck it, fuck me like you mean it harder harder please!”
Adrenaline surged through me, and I thrust deeper, harder, faster. I threw caution to the wind, abandoning any pretence of restraint. The wet, sloshy, soppy sounds of our bodies colliding filled the room, echoing the frantic rhythm of my heart.
“Ahh, my pussy!” she cried, her voice raw with pleasure. “Fuck me, Darren, fuck me like you hate me!”
I pounded into her, my hips slamming against hers, and I felt the pressure building, building, building. I was so close, so close to the edge, and I knew I couldn’t hold back much longer.
“Rub my pussy, Darren,” she begged her voice barely a whisper. “Rub my pussy while you fuck it!”
I reached down, my fingers finding her swollen clit, and I began to rub it with a frantic urgency. She threw her head back and screamed, her body arching off the bed.
“Oh, God, Darren! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
I lifted her leg a bit more so I could get more of a better angle at her soaking twat.
“Oh God, your cock is so thick, so hard.” Her hips bucked against mine, urging me deeper, faster. The wet sounds intensified – a symphony of squelches, slaps, and desperate gasps.
“Ungh… ahhh…” I grunted again, less controlled now, the sounds tearing from my chest. I tried to deepen my voice, and force it into a lower register, but the pleasure was too overwhelming. I was losing the thread, the thin veil of disguise fraying with every desperate lunge.
“Don’t you stop now,” she hissed, her fingers digging deeper into my arm, drawing blood, I was sure. “Pump that thick cock into me. Ahh honey, you’re really… giving my pussy a damn… ahhh good seeing to tonight.”
“Ahh, you’re going to break me!” she gasped, but there was no fear in her voice, only raw, unadulterated pleasure.
I have never heard Mum like this before, of course, I hadn’t as I never fucked her before. But from the innocent woman, I knew her as, god this turned me on so much.
I slammed into her again, and again, the bedsprings groaning under our combined weight. Each thrust reverberated through me, a shocking mix of taboo and raw, primal need. The wet sounds were deafening now, a symphony of lust in the quiet room – slosh, squelch, slap. Her ass, slick with sweat and her own juices, smacked against my thighs with every forceful push.
The bed was a riot of movement and sound – the rhythmic thud of my hips against hers, the wet smack of flesh on flesh, her ragged breaths, my forced grunts. Each thrust drove deeper into her heat, the tight walls of her pussy milking my cock with relentless pressure. It was a sensory overload, a forbidden, exhilarating rush. My mind was fractured, split between the illicit thrill and the sickening reality of who I was doing this to. But in this moment, the thrill was winning, fueled by the primal responses of my body and the intoxicating power of pleasing her so completely.
“Ahhh, fuck yes!” she screamed, breaking through any attempt at quiet. Her nails dug deeper, raking down my back, drawing thin lines of fire. “Don’t stop… please God, don’t you dare stop!”
Her plea was a command, and my body obeyed without hesitation. I pounded into her, each stroke a brutal, delicious assault. The sound of our bodies merging was almost obscene, a wet, vibrant symphony of sin. Her pussy was slick, so gloriously wet, I could feel it squelching and sucking with each powerful thrust. I imagined her insides gripping me, a hot, pulsating embrace that threatened to consume me entirely.
“Oh, Darren, you’re so… thick,” she stammered, her words broken by moans. “It feels…it’s… filling me… every inch…”
Her words were like fuel, igniting my desire further. I pushed harder, aiming deeper, trying to reach some impossible depth within her. The head of my cock rubbed against something sensitive inside, a place that made her gasp and arch even higher.
“Agh… right there… oh God, yes, right there!” she cried, her voice cracking. “Fuck me there, Darren, fuck me there until I can’t breathe!”
Did Dad even know how to do this to her? Did he even care? The thought flickered through my mind, a bitter taste in the midst of the intoxicating sensation.
I accidentally let out, “Arhh Mum.” She then realised it wasn’t my dad Darren fucking her, it was me her son.
“Ahhh… my pussy, Lee… what the,” she continued to moan as I kept fucking her pussy. “WHY.”
“I can stop,” I said panting as her ass slapped harder against me as I fucked her cunt even harder.
“Don’t you dare say it!” she screamed, her voice breaking. “Ahh fuck, don’t you dare tell me it’s you! Just… just keep going! Please, just keep going. Can’t believe I am letting you fuck my pussy.”
“Fuck, Mum, you are so wet,” I accidentally slipped up and said.
“Ahhh, dont you dare say my name, ahh fuck I hate it,” she screamed and then started to get louder and louder as I came close to my own orgasm.
“Uunngh Arghhhh baby argh fuck baby,” I roared, my voice breaking, too far gone to control it now. I pounded into her one last time, a final, brutal thrust that went as deep as physically possible, and then I unleashed.
I gritted my teeth, and I came hard, pumping hot, thick ropes of semen deep inside her. It felt like every ounce of tension, every ounce of guilt, every ounce of confusion was pouring out of me in that moment. I gripped her tighter, burying my face in her neck, trying to ground myself in the reality of what I had just done.
We lay there for a long moment, panting, our bodies intertwined. The silence was deafening, broken only by our ragged breaths.
I knew I had to say something, anything, to break the spell. But the words wouldn’t come.
Finally, I out of her, feeling like a wrung-out dishrag. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating with shame and spent desire. I couldn’t meet her eyes. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the plaster looking suddenly fascinating like I’d never noticed its swirls and imperfections before.
“Lee,” she said, her voice surprisingly calm. Too calm. It sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with lust.
I flinched but didn’t turn. “Yeah?”
“Don’t ever…ever…do that again.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Was that a threat? A plea? A command? I couldn’t tell. My head was spinning.
“I know,” I mumbled, wishing I could just disappear into the floorboards.
She shifted beside me, and I finally dared to glance over. Her face was flushed, her hair a mess, her eyes…unreadable. She looked both vulnerable and dangerous, like a cornered animal.
“But…” she continued, her voice barely a whisper. “It felt…good.”
The confession hung in the air, thick and heavy, like the scent of sex that permeated the room. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the chaos in my mind. “Good?” I echoed, the word sounding foreign and grotesque on my tongue.
She didn’t look at me, her gaze fixed on some invisible point on the wall. A strand of her hair clung to her damp cheek, and I had a sudden, overwhelming urge to brush it away, to comfort her. But I couldn’t. The chasm between us, once a small crack of discontent, had widened into a gaping canyon.
“I haven’t…I haven’t felt like that in years,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. “Your dad…he’s just…different now. And I just assumed you were him. I wish you would have warned me sooner.”
My stomach lurched. “Different?” I asked, the word barely audible.
She finally met my gaze, and I saw a flicker of something – sadness? Regret? – in her eyes. “He’s…gentle. Distant. He hasn’t touched me like that in forever. And lately, our sex life… well, it’s been non-existent. I thought he was trying something new.”
A wave of nausea washed over me. To hear her talk about her sex life, about Dad… it was too much. This whole thing was too much.
“I knew something was off, even before…you know,” she continued, her voice gaining strength. “He never grabs my hair like that. And his hands… they’ve always been rough, calloused. Yours felt… different. Softer.” She paused, then added, almost to herself, “And he hasn’t called me ‘baby’ in years.”
A wave of shame crashed over me. I was disgusting. What had I done?
“I…I need to go,” I stammered, scrambling out of bed. “I shouldn’t have…”
“Wait,” she said, reaching out and gently touching my arm. Her touch sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of revulsion and lingering desire. “Just…wait. I’m not saying what we did was okay. God, it was wrong. So, so wrong. But…it woke something up in me. Something I thought was dead.”
She sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. “I’m saying… I’m saying things need to change. Badly. And maybe… maybe there’s a way we can both benefit from this… this mess.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Benefit? How could anyone benefit from this?”
She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “Look, Lee. Your dad and I… we’re not good. We haven’t been for a long time. But I’m not ready to throw it all away. Not yet. Maybe I’m scared. Maybe I’m just… used to it. But I need something. I need to feel something again. And you… you gave me that, even if it was completely fucked up.”
She looked me dead in the eye, her expression intense. “Here’s what I’m proposing. A deal. You keep your mouth shut about this. You never, ever mention it to anyone. And in exchange… I give you free use.”
My jaw dropped. “Free… use? What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means…whenever I need it, whenever I want it, you’re available. No questions asked. No strings attached. Just… sex. For me. From you. Think of it as… therapy. For both of us. It’ll help me decide what to do if my marriage continues downhill or I will leave to be with you. And you… well, you get to finally do your desires. But you have to leave and act like the whole room did not happen. No lingering. No expectations. Just pure, unadulterated pleasure.”
I was reeling. This was insane. Absolutely, completely insane. But… a part of me, a dark, twisted part of me, was intrigued. The thought of having her, anytime I wanted, without the guilt, without the complications…it was intoxicating.
“I…” I stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.
She leaned closer, her voice soft and persuasive. “Think about it, Lee. It’s a win-win. I get the physical release I desperately need, and you get to…explore your desires. Just think of my pussy whenever you want! A lot of men your age would want that kind of deal.”
I looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of manipulation, of regret. But all I saw was… a desperate plea. A woman is broken and looking for a way to fix herself, even if that means breaking all the rules.
“What if Dad finds out?” I asked the only logical question I could muster.
She shrugged. “He won’t. We’ll be careful. Smart. This stays between us. And if he does find out… well, then I guess he finds out. Maybe it’ll be the catalyst we need to finally face our problems. To be honest, we have been going downhill for a while, so I might end up leaving him.”
I stared at her, my mind racing. The weight of what she was proposing, the sheer audacity of it, was almost unbearable. But beneath the shock and the confusion, a thrill coursed through me, a forbidden excitement that I couldn’t deny.
“I… I don’t know,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I need time to think about it.”
She nodded slowly, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “Of course. Take all the time you need. But just remember… I need this, Lee. And deep down, I think you do too.”
I left her room, feeling like I was walking through a dream. The house felt different, charged with a new, dangerous energy. Every creak of the floorboards, every shadow in the hallway, seemed to whisper secrets I wasn’t ready to hear.
For days, I wrestled with her offer. The guilt was immense, the shame almost suffocating. I knew it was wrong, morally reprehensible. But the temptation, the image of her naked body writhing beneath me, was a powerful force, one that threatened to consume me.
I avoided her as much as possible, hiding in my room, pretending to study, anything to escape the magnetic pull of her presence. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the way she felt, about the raw, primal connection we had shared, however twisted and wrong it was.
One evening back at home from our holiday, I found her in the kitchen, staring out the window at the setting sun. Her face was pale, her eyes haunted. She looked lost, vulnerable.
“Lee,” she said softly, without turning around. “Have you thought about it?”
I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew I should say no, that I should walk away and never look back. But I couldn’t. The need, the desire, was too strong.
“I… I have,” I mumbled, my voice trembling.
She turned to face me, her eyes searching mine. “And?”
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to say. “Okay,” I said, the word barely audible. “I’ll do it.”
A flicker of relief washed over her face, followed by a hint of sadness. “Are you sure, Lee? Because once we start this, there’s no going back.”
I nodded, my resolve firm. “I’m sure.”
And with that, we stepped into a darkness, a forbidden realm of desire and guilt, where the lines between right and wrong blurred, and the only thing that mattered was the hunger that consumed us.
The first few times were awkward, stilted. The guilt was a constant presence, a heavy weight pressing down on us. But slowly, as we succumbed to the primal urge, the guilt began to fade, replaced by a raw, unadulterated pleasure.
We were careful, meticulous in our secrecy. We developed a system of signals, a language of glances and touches that allowed us to communicate without words. We met in secret, in the dead of night, in the shadows of the house, our bodies intertwined, our mouths locked in desperate kisses.
And slowly, something began to change between us. A connection deeper than lust, a bond forged in the crucible of shared shame and forbidden desire. We started talking, sharing our fears and our dreams, our hopes and our regrets. We became each other’s confidantes, each other’s therapists, each other’s solace in a world that seemed determined to tear us apart.
One day, Dad came home early from work. He looked tired, defeated. He sat down at the kitchen table and stared blankly at the wall.
“Your mother and I had a fight,” he said, his voice flat. “She told me she wants a divorce.”
My heart sank. I knew this was my fault, that I had played a part in destroying their marriage.
That night, Mum came to my room. She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve.
“It’s over,” she said softly. “I’m leaving him.”
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her I was sorry, but the words wouldn’t come.
“I’m going away for a while,” she continued. “I need to figure things out. But I want you to know… I don’t regret what happened between us. It was wrong, yes. But it showed me that I’m still alive, that I’m still capable of feeling something. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.”
She paused, then reached out and gently touched my cheek. “Don’t wait for me, Lee. I want you to live your life, to find someone who can love you without all the baggage. You deserve that.”
And with that, she left, leaving me alone in the darkness, with nothing but my guilt and my memories.
Years passed. I went to college, moved to a different city, and started a career. I tried to forget about her, to bury the past. But she was always there, a ghost in the back of my mind.
One day, I received a letter. It was from her.
She was living in a small town on the coast, running a bookstore. She had found peace, she said. She had found happiness. And she had found love.
She was getting married.
I felt a pang of something – regret? Jealousy? I wasn’t sure. But mostly, I felt relief. Relief that she had finally found what she was looking for.
I wrote her back, congratulating her. I told her I was happy for her. And I told her that I would never forget her.
I never saw her again. But I carried her with me, always. A reminder of the darkness we had shared, and the light that had ultimately emerged from it. The free-use deal was what was needed to make her realise her marriage was broken and that she needed to leave. The deal was short-lived but without it, neither of them would have realised how broken the marriage was and how much they both were craving the affection of another. So, in the end, they both got what they wanted and needed.