After showering late at night and drying off, I put on a pair of boxers, a clean t-shirt, and some jogging bottoms. I went downstairs to find my mum in her nightie watching a movie with a glass of wine. I sat down beside her, but suddenly felt an intense itch in my groin. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, trying to resist scratching. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, increasingly uncomfortable and trying to discreetly relieve the itch.
The itch was relentless. It felt like a colony of ants was throwing a rave in my underwear. I subtly adjusted the jogging bottoms, pulling them slightly away from my skin, hoping for a breath of fresh air to quell the burning sensation. My mum, sighed and her head turned to face me.
“Why can’t you sit still?” she asked, taking a sip of her wine staring at me as I adjust my crotch.
My face flushed a deep crimson. “Sorry,” I mumbled, trying to sound casual, but my voice cracked with awkwardness. “Just…uncomfortable.”
My mum raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Uncomfortable, huh? Anything you want to talk about? Like stop messing with yourself.”
My stomach dropped. Talk about mortifying. “No, no, nothing like that!” I stammered, waving my hands dismissively. “Just an itch. That’s all. Since I put my clean boxers on.”
My mum didn’t look convinced. She paused the movie, the dramatic orchestral score abruptly silenced, leaving only the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall to fill the void.
“An itch, you say?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing slightly. “A new pair of boxers, eh? Maybe you’re allergic to the fabric softener, I use a new one last week, and I’ve never seen you act like that before. Instead of squirming itch it.”
My hand shot towards my groin before I could even think. The relief was immediate, even as a fresh wave of embarrassment washed over me. I scratched, trying to be as subtle as possible, but the sound of nylon on skin was amplified in the suddenly quiet room.
My mum watched with an almost scientific detachment, swirling the wine in her glass. “Well?” she finally said, after what felt like an eternity. “Better?”
“No,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper as I had my hand inside my boxers scratch my balls and shaft.
The scratching only intensified the maddening itch. It was now a burning, tingling sensation that spread from my groin down my thighs. I groaned softly, my face contorted in discomfort.
“Okay, that’s it,” my mum said, finally putting down her wine glass with a decisive clink. “This is beyond an itch. And frankly, it’s creeping me out. Let’s take a look.”
My eyes widened in horror. “No! No way! It’s just…it’ll go away.” I started to stand up, desperate to escape the situation, but my mum gently but firmly pushed me back down.
“Nonsense,” she said, her tone suddenly shifting from playful to concerned. “It could be anything. Heat rash, chafing, maybe even…something else. I’m a mum, and I’ve seen it all. Don’t be embarrassed. Let’s just take a peek.”
She reached for the remote and paused the movie again. The silence in the room was deafening. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of my humiliation.
“Look, I know this is awkward,” she continued, her voice soft and reassuring. “But it’s better to be safe than sorry. Just pull down your jogging bottoms and boxers a little, and let me have a quick look. If it’s nothing, great. If it’s something, we can figure it out. Okay?”
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the ordeal. “Okay,” I mumbled, my voice barely audible. “But just a quick look.”
I slid them down my jogging bottoms with my boxers just past my balls and sat back down. My cock was thick and limp and about 8 inch flops to the side and mums eyes bulged out of her head.
My mum’s eyes widened, her gaze momentarily fixated on the sight before her before quickly darting back up to meet my gaze. A blush crept up her neck, mirroring the heat rising in my own cheeks.
“Okay,” she said, her voice a little higher than usual. “Um…right. Well, I don’t see anything obvious. No redness, no rash…just…you.” She coughed lightly, adjusting the collar of her nightie.
The air in the room thickened with unspoken awkwardness. The grandfather clock seemed to tick even louder, each second a hammer blow to my already fragile sense of composure.
“So…it’s nothing?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly with a mixture of relief and lingering discomfort.
“I can’t say for sure,” she replied, her brow furrowed slightly. She picked my limp dick up and inspected it, her hand was soft and gentle. I felt my cock start to harden as she inspected it. “But it doesn’t look like anything serious. Maybe it is just an allergic reaction to the fabric softener. I still can’t believe how big it is.”
My dick continued to get bigger as my mum held it softly in her surprisingly gentle hands. I could feel the heat rising in my face, a symphony of conflicting emotions swirling within me. Embarrassment, arousal, and a strange sense of vulnerability all collided in a confusing mess. I then looked down her nightie, shit she had no bra on and could see right down.
The sight of my mum’s exposed cleavage sent another jolt through me. It was a potent mix of guilt and forbidden curiosity. I quickly averted my gaze, focusing on a seemingly arbitrary spot on the wall. My head started to spin, the room seemed to tilt slightly.
“Okay,” I let out a whimper, as she examined my heavy balls, one hand holding my cock by the base and the other touching my balls. “So, what do I do?” Why was I turned on, and kept stop looking down her nightie.
My mum squeezed my balls then looked up to meet my eyes. An interesting expression flickered across her face, a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. Her eyes dropped to my hardening cock and I was sure she was going to make a comment on how hard it was getting but she didn’t and began stroking it softly.
“Ahh fuck, mum what?” I was shocked.
“What do you think I am doing?” she said, eyes still on stroking my cock.
I was speechless. My mum stroking my cock? It was beyond anything I could have imagined. A wave of forbidden pleasure washed over me, conflicting with the guilt and confusion that gnawed at my conscience. My body, betrayed my internal turmoil. My cock twitched in her hand, responding to her touch. She continued to jerk me off and caught me looking down her nightie.
She smiled, a playful glint in her eyes. “Like what you see?” she whispered, her voice husky with a hint of amusement. “You can look if you want. It’s no secret I have big tits, your dad loved them.”
“That feels so good, do you have knickers on,” not sure why the hell I asked that.
“Yes, I do,” she replied, her hand still steadily moving up and down my shaft. “But I can take them off if you want. Oh baby you have such a big beautiful cock.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. My mind raced, trying to process what was happening. My own mother, suggesting she would take off her knickers while she jerked me off. It was so wrong, yet the pleasure was undeniable.
“Mum, I…I don’t know what to say,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered back, her gaze intense. “Just…feel.”
She quickened her pace, her hand moving with practiced ease. The sensations intensified, blurring the lines between pleasure and shame. My body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.
With my free hand, I tentatively reached out and touched her breast, gently cupping the soft flesh through her nightie. She didn’t stop stroking me she moaned softly and lowered her head, pressing her lips to my ear.
“Yes, baby,” she whispered. “Touch me. Like that. I think I am ready for you, let me take my knickers off for you.”
She moved her hand away from my cock and down to the hem of her nightie, slowly pulling it up. She fully took her nightie off and was just in pink lace knickers. She then stood up and pulled her knickers down and off. She got on the couch laying on her back and reached out for my dick. She pulled me between her parted thighs and guided it to her mature pussy.
My breath hitched as the head of my cock met her slick, warm opening. It was a sensation so intense, so forbidden, that it threatened to overwhelm me completely. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, a chaotic battleground where desire fought against morality, pleasure against guilt.
But in that moment, as she guided me deeper, the primal urge to fulfill that desire took over. I pushed forward, slowly, tentatively, and felt myself slide into her. A gasp escaped my lips, a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated pleasure.
Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, urging me on. Her hands gripped my back, nails digging lightly into my skin. She arched her back, her breasts heaving with each breath.
“Oh, baby,” she moaned, her voice thick with passion. “That’s it. Deeper. Fill me up.”
The words were like fuel to the fire, igniting a frenzy within me. I began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing rhythm and intensity. The friction was incredible, every thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body.
The guilt still lingered, a shadow lurking in the corners of my mind, but it was no match for the overwhelming sensations that consumed me. I lost myself in the moment, in the raw, primal connection between us.
I thrust harder, faster, driven by a need I couldn’t explain, couldn’t resist. My world narrowed to the feel of her body against mine, the sound of her moans, the taste of her skin.
“Ahhh honey… Mmmm… fuck. As.. as the itch gone,” She slurred her words out as I just kept on nailing her cunt harder.
My mind was spinning, a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. The itch, the burning need that had driven me to this point, was gone. Replaced by something else entirely – a deep, throbbing pleasure that pulsed through my veins with every thrust.
“Yes,”I gasped, my voice ragged. “It’s gone. Fuck, mum… you feel so good.”
Her nails dug deeper into my back, urging me on.”Harder,” she demanded, her voice a husky whisper.”Fuck me harder, baby. Make me yours.”
The words sent a surge of primal energy through me.I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, and slammed into her with renewed vigor. The couch creaked beneath us, the sound mingling with our labored breaths and moans.
Her breasts bounced with every thrust, the sight hypnotic. I leaned down, capturing one nipple in my mouth, sucking and biting gently.
The taste of her skin, salty and sweet, filled my senses. I swirled my tongue around her nipple, feeling it harden against the roof of my mouth. Her back arched, pressing her breast further into my face, silently begging for more.
My hips continued their relentless pace, driving into her with a fervor I didn’t know I possessed. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, a primal rhythm that drowned out all other thoughts.
“Oh god,” she moaned, her fingers tangling in my hair. “Just like that. Don’tstop.” I switched to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. My free hand snaked between our bodies, finding her clit and rubbing in tight circles. She gasped, her hips bucking against mine. “Yes,” she hissed. “Right there. Fuck, I’m so close.”
I felt her body tense beneath me, her muscles tightening like a coiled spring. Her breathing became shallow, ragged gasps escaping her lips with each thrust. I could feel her inner walls fluttering around my cock, a sure sign that she was on the verge of climax.
I increased the pressure on her clit, rubbing faster and harder. My hips pistoned into her, each thrust deep and powerful. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, a symphony of passion and forbidden desire. She threw her head back, a scream of ecstasy tearing from her throat. Her body convulsed beneath me, her pussy clamping down on my cock like a vice. Waves of pleasure washed over her, her orgasm intense and all-consuming.
I felt her climax wash over her, her body trembling and convulsing beneath me. The sensation of her tight pussy gripping my cock was almost too much to bear. With a final, powerful thrust, I buried myself deep inside her, feeling the head of my cock pulse against her cervix.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned, my voice strained with the effort of holding back my own release. “I’m going to cum, mum. I’m going to cum inside you.”
With a final, shuddering thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could go and let go.My cock pulsed and throbbed as I emptied myself into her, thick ropes of cum shooting into her waiting womb. The sensation was incredible, a rush of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
“Ahhh…harder!” she cried out, her hips bucking wildly against mine as she felt my hot seed flooding her insides. “Oh god…yes. That’s it, baby. Give it all to me.”
I continued to thrust, each movement drawing out my orgasm and pumping more of my cum into her. Her pussy milked me, greedy for every last drop. I could feel it leaking out around my shaft, dripping down onto the couch beneath us.
I collapsed onto her, my body spent and trembling.We lay there for a moment, our chests heaving as we caught our breath. The room was silent except for the sound of our ragged breathing and the occasional drip of sweat onto the floor.
Slowly, I lifted myself up onto my elbows and looked down at her. Her hair was a mess, her face flushed and glowing with post-coital satisfaction. She looked up at me with a lazy, contented smile.
“Well,” she said, her voice hoarse.”That certainly took care of that itch, didn’t it?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, a mixture of relief and disbelief. “Yeah, it did,” I replied, shaking my head in amazement. “I can’t believe we just did that.” She reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of my face, her touch gentle and affectionate.
As I lay there, basking in the aftermath of our forbidden encounter, I couldn’t help but marvel at the surreal nature of the situation. My own mother, the woman who had given birth to me, raised me, and loved me unconditionally, was now lying beneath me, her body still trembling from the intensity of our shared climax. The air was thick with the scent of our lovemaking – a musky, primal aroma that filled my nostrils and stirred something deep within me. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my skin, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she struggled to regain her composure.
Asthe fog of passion began to lift, a sense of guilt started to creep in, gnawing at the edges of my mind. What had we done? How could I have allowed myself to be so weak, so vulnerable, so…incestuous?