Exhausted after an all-day drive, Mom and I finally reached the hotel just after 9 PM on Tuesday night. We were both desperate for some personal space, but it turned out the universe had other plans.
Mom has a small, independent business and she travels to a lot of markets and expos where she can sell the jewellery, arts and crafts she makes. Dad works as a plumber so he’s only able to travel on weekends when he’s not on call. I only work weekends at my retail job, so during the week I’m usually the one traveling with her, setting up the booth and processing sales while she does all the greeting, chatting and networking that goes with being self-employed.
We checked into the hotel. This particular event was announced very last minute, which meant that our accommodation was also booked on very short notice. So the only place we could afford was a two star hotel, where we’d be sharing the one room. Thankfully, the online booking indicated we could still have two beds. Did I like the idea of sharing a room with Mom? Of course not, but booking two rooms with less than 48 hours notice during spring break would’ve cost us more than Mom would earn on sales for the two nights we were in town.
“Okay, Mrs Childers, we’ve got y’all in room 1147. Here your credit card back…and here’s your room key. Elevator’s just behind you, on the left. Enjoy your stay!” The perky receptionist smiled.
Mom waited for me in the lobby while I grabbed our bags from the back of our station wagon, which was packed to bursting with Mom’s stock, signage and tables.
We took the elevator up and I dumped our bags on the bed. While I was trying to figure out how to set the AC to anything above Freezing, Mom checked out the room.
“Hey, Dan? Notice anything wrong with the room?”
“Apart from being cold as hell?” I finally got the remote’s angle right and the AC unit was responding to my inputs with a series of happy beeps. With my adversary slain, I turned around to check out the room. “Uh, I don’t know. What?”
She pointed to the bed. “That.”
I didn’t get it at first. It was just a normal bed. And that was the problem: A bed. Single. One. “Oh. But, you definitely booked two beds, didn’t you?”
Mom was already looking up the booking details on her phone. “Yes. Says so right here – one room, two adults, two beds. This is ridiculous. I’m calling the front desk.”
She picked up the room phone on the bedside table and dialled 1 for reception. “Hi, this is Mary Childers, in room 11…47?… Yeah. Look, I think there’s been a mistake with our booking? It’s meant to be two beds, but there’s only one here. Is it possible to get changed to another r-… oh. Fully booked. There’s no rooms where they haven’t checked in yet, that we can maybe swap…? Right.” She sighed. “No. No, my son and I will work it out ourselves, I guess. Right, thanks. Bye.”
She shook her head. “Useless.” Mom is normally quite happy-go-lucky. I think the long drive, coupled with this bed mixup drained her of all her usual cheerfulness.
I had an idea. “Normally in places like this, they put two beds together to make one big one. There should be extra sheets in the closet, too.” I untucked the sheets at the foot of the bed. No dice – it was a proper queen size mattress. “Well, damn.” I looked around the room. “It’s fine – I can just take the couch.”
“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that…” Mom half protested, mostly because that’s what you’re meant to do.
“You didn’t ask. I volunteered.” I shrugged and set about gathering the sheets and blanket from the top shelf of the closet. At least I was right about that.
It was after 9:30, so we decided to just call it a night at that point. I let Mom have the bathroom first, taking the chance to have a long shower without Dad “nagging about how much hot water” she was using (her words). She came out wearing her usual sleepwear – a satin nightie with thin shoulder straps and lace on the neckline. The hem ended just above her knees. It wasn’t what I would call a “sexy” nightie; it was just what Mom always wore to bed, as long as I could remember.
After my shower, I came back into the room dressed for bed as well: cotton boxers and an old, faded t-shirt from a now-defunct indie band. Again, nothing sexy.
Mom was already in bed, reading one of those novels that seem to be written exclusively for women in their 50s. Once I was settled in my makeshift couch bed, we said our goodnights and I tried my best to get comfortable.
And I kept trying, and trying, for a good 15 minutes. The armrest was too tall for the pillow, but having it on the cushion felt wrong too. Rolling onto one side, relaxing for a few minutes, then finding something wrong with that position, rolling onto the other side, trying to flatten out the lumps in the pillow…nothing was working and the longer it went on, the angrier I got. I just wanted to sleep, damn it!
“Stop fidgeting.” Mom was just as frustrated as I was. I didn’t stop to think how much noise I was making with my restlessness, and Mom was only a few feet away in the same room.
“Sorry. I just can’t get comfy. Something keeps sticking in my back, or-“
“For the love of… Just get in the bed, then.”
I really, really didn’t want to. I know most guys would be worried about getting boners during the night, but for me it’s even worse. It only happens on rare occasions, but I’ve got this sleep disorder where I’ll just start groping someone if I’m sharing a bed with them, but I’m still asleep. It’s like a horny, problematic version of sleepwalking. One of my exes even broke up with me because I did it and wouldn’t stop when she told me to. But I was fully asleep – I had no idea I even did it until she told me the next morning. I’m not just making shit up here – look up “sleep sex” on Wikipedia if you don’t believe me.
So, no. I really, really did not want to sleep in the same bed with my Mom, no matter how uncomfortable I was on that couch. The risk was just too great. “No, I really don’t think I should.”
She sighed. “I’ve been sharing a bed with your father for 30 years. I know what happens to men’s…bodies at night.” My parents and I had never had The Talk. This was the closest Mom and I had ever gotten to talking about erections, and she still found a way around talking about it.
“I really think it’s better if I stay here.”
“Look, if it makes you feel better, we can put this pillow between us. We won’t even be touching.” She put one of the spare pillows under the sheets.
“It’s not just that. I can’t say why. And you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
Mom was tired and couldn’t hide how pissed off she was now. “It’s late. Just get in the damn bed.”
I sighed. “Fine.” I climbed off the sofa and stumbled the 10 feet in the dark to the bed. I contemplated sleeping above the covers, but the room was still too cold from the AC blasting all day. So I reluctantly climbed into the bed with my mother.
We lay back to back, with the pillow between us. Under the covers, the long and tiring day caught up with me, and I finally fell asleep within minutes.
What happened next, I can only guess at after the fact. But I think that over the course of the next few hours, we must have tossed, turned and shifted enough so that eventually the pillow got moved further up the bed, toward our heads. And then we ended up spooning in some sort of Y shape. Our legs were together, our lower halves touched, but the top half of our bodies were apart, with the pillow between our heads. But, again, we were both sleeping, so I can’t say for sure.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I woke up, but it was a very gradual thing. I was laying in bed with some girl, but I couldn’t remember who it was. She had these big, soft tits and I was squeezing one from behind. I could feel myself getting hard. I was squeezing her breast, drawing circles around her nipple, lightly pinching them.
I still wasn’t awake. I was just focusing on the warm, soft breast in my hand, and the throbbing hardness in my boxers as it was pressing into her ass. She was pushing herself into my hard dick, grinding her ass against me.
I alternated between her two tits, squeezing and teasing each one. Still, she was grinding against my dick. This girl was as turned on as I was.
Wait. What girl? Actually, does it matter at this point? She’s turned on, and so are you. Just enjoy the dream and keep touching those tits while you can.
So I did. But as I grabbed and squeezed those great tits and pinched those hard nipples gently, my sleep fogged mind kept trying to raise some sort of alarm. But why? She was breathing heavily now, and still grinding her ass against my incredibly hard dick. You’re doing the sleep groping thing again. So what? She’s into it, so it’s not going to wind up like it did with Rachelle. Calm down.
But who is it? Think. This isn’t your room. This isn’t your bed. And why is there a pillow in your face?
Oh no.
Oh fuck.
It’s Mom!
Fuck!
Dude, stop groping your fucking mother. Right now.
I know I should, but…it feels good. Really good. Even Mom’s enjoying it. God, the way she’s moving that ass against my cock. And these tits…
You started this when you were asleep. What if she’s still asleep? She could just be dreaming about Dad, or someone else. Doesn’t mean she wants her own son feeling her up in the middle of the night. Quit while you’re ahead, man. You got a good feel, you got super hard, but this is your goddamn Mom, dude. Just stop, and take this secret to your fucking grave.
Yeah, that’s the right thing to do. The rational thing. The sane thing. I should really stop.
She was still grinding her ass into me, driving me crazy. I knew I couldn’t keep going like this. I released Mom’s breast from my grip.
Then, I slipped my hand into the top of her nightie, under the lace, grabbed her left boob and pulled it out above the satin fabric. I quickly did the same for her right breast. I resumed my depraved assault, groping and squeezing my mother’s big, soft tits.
Then, she moved.
Her right hand sprang to life. She deftly moved it up and behind herself, and it landed on the outside of my right thigh. I froze. Her hand slid up my leg, up to the waistband of my boxers. I scooted my ass back slightly, desperately hoping for what was about to happen. Without a second’s hesitation, Mom grabbed my erection through the thin cotton of my boxers and started gently stroking me.
That was all I needed to keep going. With my own mother’s hand jacking me off, I immediately followed suit. Boldly slipping my fingers into her cotton panties at the hip, I started moving down and around to the front.
I pushed through her thick bush and quickly found her clit. The hair and the warm flesh around it was already wet with Mom’s arousal. I started rubbing her gently, slowly. She spread her legs slightly, giving me an easier angle with which to pleasure her. She tightened her grip on my cock, stroking it more firmly now.
“Mmm, Mom…” I moaned quietly into the pillow.
She replied immediately: “No talking.” Fear and dread went through me like a lightning bolt. I knew I’d fucked up, and that confirmed it. It was over, I was fucking done for.
But she didn’t skip a beat, and just kept jerking my cock. I hesitantly started rubbing her clit again, and she didn’t stop me. Okay. I understood the rules now. I wasn’t going to fuck up again.
I wanted to apologize to her, so I focused on my hand inside her panties, on my fingers as I rubbed them back and forth over her swollen clit. I listened to her breathing, following her cues of how much pressure to apply and how fast to go.
It didn’t take long before Mom started grinding her hips again, pressing herself against my fingers. She was breathing heavily and even started moaning a little. I was going to make my mom cum. It was the most turned on I’d been in my life.
I kept my pace consistent, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. And then, suddenly, she was there. Her body tensed and shuddered, and she moaned quietly while I kept rubbing her clit, drawing out the orgasm. The memory of her moans alone still makes me hard.
I don’t know how I didn’t cum myself, listening to her and feeling her cumming from my touch. She kept jerking me while she came. Once she was finished, she rolled over so she was laying flat on her back. She released my boner, then reached over and pulled at the waistband of my boxers.
I propped myself up and lifted my left hip off the bed. Mom pulled my boxers down to my knees, freeing my hard, throbbing cock.
She rolled back onto her side, facing away from me, grabbed my dick again and resumed giving me the hottest handjob I’ve ever received.
While she stroked my bare cock, I started exploring her body with my hand again. I could feel her hard nipples standing in the middle of her large tits. I traced the curves of her stomach, and up to her hips. I slipped my hand into her panties again, this time caressing the soft, springy flesh of her ass. I squeezed Mom’s ass cheek firmly. Hungrily. I wanted to keep exploring deeper, wanted to delve into her crack and tease her asshole, but talked myself down. No more risks, Dan. I squeezed her cheek again, then ventured back around to her crotch. I felt her thick, wild bush peeking out the top of her panties. I inched my fingers further down into her pubic hair, past her clit and felt her warm, wet labia.
She slowed her hand and soon stopped. I froze. She let go of my cock and lifted her hip off the bed. I grabbed her panties and pulled them down past her knees – one leg, then the other. She dropped back to the bed and scooted her ass towards me.
My hard, dripping cock was pressing into her ass crack. I put my hand between her legs again. I pushed a finger gently between her folds and moved it down until I found her opening. Mom’s vagina. Mom’s hot, wet, hairy, vagina. When I slid my index and middle fingers into her, she groaned with approval.
I started fingering Mom’s pussy, slowly moving my fingers in and out of her. She began grinding her ass against me, her bare flesh against mine. She was breathing heavily again, and I was too. I groaned my approval, then finally threw away the pillow that lay between us. It didn’t work, anyway. I pulled myself close against Mom.
We stayed that way – me with two fingers burried inside her, and Mom grinding against my painfully hard dick – for less than a minute before she grabbed my wrist with her free hand and pulled me out of her body. Once again, I was struck by fear. How did I fuck up this time? Is she only just awake now?
“Just put it in,” Mom commanded, slightly breathless.
Holy shit. I didn’t waste any time on “What did you say?” or “Are you sure?” I just did what my mother told me to. I shifted back, grabbed my cock and moved it past Mom’s ass, between her legs, and towards her vagina.
She adjusted her position to give me better access. Mom needed my dick as much as I needed her pussy. She reached a hand between her legs and helped guide it to her opening.
We both groaned with pleasure when I pushed my cock head into her lips and into her welcoming, warm vagina. I slowly inched inside her, savoring the sensation of her walls spreading to accommodate my hard cock. I released my dick and grabbed her tits again, then started thrusting – driving my cock in and out of Mom’s pussy. I bit my lip to stop myself from telling her how good she felt.
Mom started moving her hips, both of us now fucking together. The starchy hotel bedsheets rustling beneath us did nothing to drown out our lustful moans. Mom and I had crossed the incest line with no planning, no discussion, and no hesitation. We simply gave in to the moment, gave in to the mutual desire that suddenly materialized while we slept.
I could only see a vague dark outline of Mom’s body under the covers but I was breathing into her ear, breathing in the fresh scents of her soap and deodorant. I could hear her lusty breathing and rhythmic moaning. But best of all, could feel her large, soft breast in my hand; the soft flesh of her ass cushioning my thrusts into her; and the warm tightness of her pussy squeezing my dick as we fucked.
Mom tried and failed a couple of times to put her hand between her legs and rub her clit while we fucked, but couldn’t seem to get the angle quite right. She briefly settled for resting her hand on top of mine while I caressed her boobs, but that didn’t last long either. Pretty shortly after that, she pulled my hand from her breasts, and shifted her ass away from me, pulling my dick out of her body as a result. She immediately rolled over and on top of me. She put her hands on my shoulders, pushing me flat onto my back and pinning me to the bed. This was the first face-to-face contact we’d had since I first got into the bed a million hours ago.
Mom looked down at me, her long dark hair cascading down all around her face. Her mouth was open, her eyes were dark pools in the night. God, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted nothing but to show this woman how sexy she was, wanted nothing but to please and pleasure her. Mom. The woman who birthed me, who raised me, who supported me my whole life. The woman who was now on top of me, straddling my naked body, wanting me inside her again.
She sat up straight and hiked up the bottom of her nightie. In the frustratingly too-dark-but-just-enough-light-to-see darkness of the hotel room, I could see the black forest of her public hair, the soft curves of her mature body, the shape of her big tits, and the vague outline of her facial features. I watched her dark figure reposition itself above my body, lining her crotch up with mine again, eager to reunite.
I grabbed my erection, guiding it upwards towards her sex again, rubbing her labia gently, back down to her warm, welcoming opening.
Mom lowered her body, impaling herself on my cock. Sinking it deeper and deeper into her tight, warm, soft vagina. Moaning in lustful approval, I placed my hands on her hips, guiding her down and down until I was buried to the hilt. She started rocking her hips back and forth, fucking me steadily.
I started thrusting my hips up and down, matching her rhythm as we fucked. I gripped her hips tighter.
There we were: mother and son – relatives morphing into lovers. Bodies united in incest, minds intoxicated by taboo. Fully awake in the darkness, willingly fucking each other.
Mom riding my cock, me driving myself deep into her pussy. Gradually increasing in speed. Rapidly increasing in desire.
“That’s better,” Mom half whispered, half moaned.
“Mm-hmm,” I grunted in agreement. I still wasn’t sure if I’d been granted permission to speak.
I released Mom’s hips and started exploring the feel of her body again. The cool and smooth satin of her nightie, the warm, soft flesh of her buttocks, the curves of her hips, the smooth skin of her back, her soft belly, her addictively squeezable tits, and the delicate skin just below her neck.
Mom, meanwhile kept her hands where they were – resting on my shoulders to support herself while she rode cowgirl on my rock hard dick.
I moved my right hand down her neck, over her boobs, past her stomach and softly stuck my thumb down into her thick pubic hair. I found Mom’s clit easily and immediately started running my thumb over it, side to side. Her pussy walls tightened in response.
“Uh-huh,” Mom nodded.
Rubbing Mom’s clit while we fucked. Watching her tits bounce tantalisingly close to my open mouth. Driving my cock into her harder and faster with each thrust, Mom slamming her body down onto mine over and over again. Both of us panting and moaning. Fucking like the wild animals we were.
I could feel Mom getting closer to cumming again. Her pussy getting tighter and tighter. Her breathing growing more rapid and frantic. She was fucking me so hard and fast now.
“Uugh, that’s it,” she groaned in a throaty voice. “Oh honey. Oh sweetie.” She kept chanting it over and over the closer she got.
I fought so hard to stop it, but her moaning those pet names to me was the last straw. I couldn’t take it any more. I let out a deep, primal growl as the bliss of orgasm washed over me, my cock swelling before exploding inside my mother. Shooting my sperm into the same woman who gave birth to me. My seed pumping into her over and over. White hot bursts of cum shooting deep into Mom’s hungry vagina as she squeezed me tighter and tighter the closer she got.
“Oh God, oh honey,” she squealed as she came on my cock. Bouncing and squeezing as her body grew rigid, shuddering with pleasure. Feeling her son cumming hard inside her tight pussy, cumming hard on top of his hard dick. Breathless and moaning mindlessly while riding out the intense waves of our simultaneous incestuous orgasms. Eventually regaining control over her body, she collapsed beside me.
“Oh sweetie, oh honey,” she whispered again, still catching her breath. She snuggled into me, her bare breasts pressing against me. She put her hand on my chest.
I put my hand on top of hers and squeezed it twice. The last thing I remember was Mom’s soft snoring beside me.
By the time my alarm went off at 8am the next morning, Mom was already dressed for the day. I replayed last night’s events in my mind, and I would’ve been convinced it was all a dream, if not for the fact I was still naked. My boxers were folded neatly beside my head.
Mom said nothing about it – either that morning, or that night when we were back in the room after the expo. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wanted to ask her about it so many times. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her all day. I was obsessed with her, watching her every movement with new eyes. Thinking about how my cum could still be oozing out of her hairy pussy. Fuck, I wanted her so bad. I wanted those tits, wanted to taste her, wanted her to take my cock inside her again. I was suddenly seeing her as a woman, not just my Mom anymore.
Even though we didn’t talk about our encounter, I secretly hoped for a repeat the next night. The sleeping arrangements remained the same, with a single exception: there was no pillow between us.
But, nothing happened. I still wonder if she was waiting for me to make a move, the same way I was waiting for her to. In the end, I decided Mom thought it was a mistake. Not only because of the obvious incest taboo, but also because she was married to Dad.
For the next few weeks, Mom didn’t attend a single midweek event. She was only booking weekend events, only traveling with Dad.
Ultimately, I came to regret it too. As hot as it was (and it continued to dominate my masturbation fantasies every night once we came home), I knew I should have stopped myself when I realized who I was sleep groping. Those fleeting moments of forbidden passion weren’t worth what it did to Mom, myself, and our family.
And I would still believe that, six weeks later, if Mom hadn’t just told me there’s a weeklong expo happening in California next week. She’s just booked the hotel.
“Do you think we’ll have the same luck with our accommodation this time?” she asked knowingly.