It had been too long. Far too long. Do you know what it’s like to feel this constant hum beneath your skin, a low thrum of need that just won’t quit? Fifty-two years old, and my body still knew exactly what it wanted, even if my life hadn’t been delivering. Loneliness was a cold bedfellow, and vibrators, well, they just weren’t the same, were they?
Lee, my son, was home for the summer. Eighteen years old, all sharp angles and that youthful energy that seems to crackle in the air around them. He was always polite, always helpful, but lately, I’d been noticing things. The way his eyes lingered just a little too long when he looked at me. The subtle flush on his cheeks when we brushed past each other in the kitchen. Was I imagining it? Probably. A woman my age, craving attention, sees what she wants to see, right?
He was in the living room, playing video games, the controller clicking rhythmically. I walked in, pretending to adjust the curtains, just to get a closer look. His t-shirt stretched across his chest, muscles flexing as he moved. His jeans sat low on his hips. God, he was growing into such a man.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, eyes still glued to the screen.
“Hey, honey,” I replied, my voice a little breathier than I intended. “You want anything? Soda? Snack?”
He paused the game. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” He finally looked at me, really looked, and for a split second, something flickered in his eyes. Something that wasn’t just mother-son. Or was it just wishful thinking on my part again?
“You sure?” I pressed, lingering in the doorway. “It’s hot out. Maybe some iced tea?”
“Okay, yeah, iced tea would be great,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “Thanks, Mom.”
I went to the kitchen, my heart doing a little flutter-kick in my chest. Iced tea. Just iced tea. But as I poured the drink, my mind started to wander. His smile. That look. Could it be…? No. Ridiculous. He’s my son.
But the thought, once planted, was hard to shake. It was like a tiny seed of forbidden desire, taking root in the dry soil of my lonely life.
I carried the iced tea back to the living room. He took it with a thank you, his fingers brushing mine. A jolt, small but undeniable, shot up my arm. Maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous after all.
Later that evening, after dinner, the house was quiet. Dad was away on a business trip, and it was just Lee and me. He was in his room, door slightly ajar. I walked past, then stopped. Should I? Could I?
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open a little further. He was sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. “Hey,” I said, my voice a little shaky.
He looked up, surprised. “Hey, Mom. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, just… just wanted to talk,” I stammered. “You know, just us. It’s been a while.”
He nodded, putting his phone down. “Sure. What’s up?”
I sat on the edge of his bed, closer than I usually would. My knee brushed against his thigh. The heat radiated through my jeans. “So,” I started, my voice low, “how’s… how’s everything going for you?”
“Good,” he said, a little cautiously. “Summer’s good. Relaxing.”
“Relaxing?” I echoed, letting my gaze drop to his lap. “Too relaxing?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, I guess? Why?”
“Just… wondering,” I whispered, the words feeling thick and heavy in the still air. “You know, these summers can get… boring. Lonely.” Did he even understand what I was hinting at? Or was I just completely losing it?
He looked at me, his eyes searching mine. “Yeah, I guess they can be,” he murmured.
I took a deeper breath, the scent of his cologne, musky and young, filling my nostrils. “You ever… get lonely, Lee?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He swallowed his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Sometimes,” he admitted, his voice husky.
“Sometimes?” I repeated, letting my hand drift closer to his leg. “What do you do when you get lonely?”
His gaze dropped to my hand, hovering just inches from his thigh. He didn’t move away. He didn’t say anything. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension.
“Mom…” he started, his voice rough.
“What?” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest. Was this really happening?
He looked back up at me, his eyes dark, pupils dilated. “You know what I do,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous.
My breath hitched. I knew. I knew exactly what he meant. And suddenly, all the buried desires, all the lonely nights, came crashing to the surface. “Show me,” I whispered back, the words escaping my lips before I could stop them.
His hand shot out, gripping my wrist, pulling me closer. “Are you sure, Mom?” he asked, his voice a growl now.
Was I sure? Hell yes, I was sure. I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. “Show me, Lee,” I repeated, my voice trembling, but firm.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. His lips crashed onto mine, hungry, desperate. My eyes fluttered closed as his mouth devoured mine, his tongue sliding between my teeth, tasting, exploring. It was a raw, untamed kiss, nothing like the chaste pecks I was used to. This was… fire.
He pulled back, breathing heavily, his eyes burning into mine. “Are you really sure you want this, Mom? Because once we start…”
“I’m sure,” I gasped, pressing my lips to his neck, inhaling his scent. “God, Lee, I’m so sure.”
He groaned, his hands moving to my breasts, cupping them roughly through my thin shirt. “Your tits feel amazing, Mom,” he whispered, kneading them, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, sending shocks of pleasure through me.
“Oh, Lee…” I moaned, arching into his touch. “Yes… please…”
He stood up, pulling me with him, his eyes locked on mine. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, Mom,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
My hands trembled as I reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. My bra, a lacy black thing I’d bought recently, just for myself, was on full display. His eyes darkened further, raking over my breasts, lingering on my nipples, straining against the lace.
“Fuck, Mom,” he breathed, reaching out to unclip my bra. His fingers fumbled for a moment, then the clasp gave way, and my breasts spilt free, heavy and aching.
He gasped, his gaze fixed on my naked chest. “They’re… beautiful,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of my breast, circling my nipple, teasing it until it hardened into a tight bud.
“Yes, Lee,” I moaned, my head falling back. “Touch me… please…”
His mouth came down on my nipple, sucking and pulling, sending white-hot jolts of pleasure through my body. I gasped, clutching his shoulders, my legs starting to tremble. His other hand found my waist, pulling me closer, his hard cock pressing against my jeans.
“God, Mom, you’re driving me crazy,” he groaned, moving to my other breast, lavishing it with the same attention.
He pulled back, his eyes burning with desire. He reached for the button of my jeans, his fingers surprisingly deft. He unzipped them, slowly, deliberately, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
“Panties, Mom?” he whispered, his voice rough. “Do you have panties on?”
“Of course I have panties on,” I managed to gasp, my voice breathless. “But… not for long.”
He smirked, a flash of something almost predatory in his eyes. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my jeans and pulled them down, along with my lace panties, in one swift motion. They pooled at my ankles, leaving me standing before him, naked from the waist up, my wet gash exposed, throbbing with anticipation.
His breath hitched again, his eyes fixed on my pussy. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “Mom… your pussy…”
He reached out, his fingers tracing the swollen lips of my gash, parting them slightly. “Dripping wet,” he murmured, his fingers slick with my juices. “You’re so wet, Mom.”
“Lee…” I whimpered, my legs trembling so badly I thought they might give way. “Please…”
He dropped to his knees in front of me, his eyes still fixed on my dripping hole. He licked his finger, then gently touched it to my clit. A gasp escaped my lips.
“Does that feel good, Mom?” he whispered, his voice low and husky.
“Oh God, yes,” I moaned, arching my back, and spreading my legs wider. “Don’t stop…”
He didn’t stop. He kept teasing my clit, his finger moving in slow, deliberate circles, building the pressure, sending shivers of pleasure through my core. He reached down and unbuckled his belt with his other hand, then unzipped his jeans. His cock, thick and rock hard, sprang free. It was bigger than I’d imagined, much bigger. Not small Willy.
“See that, Mom?” he growled, gesturing down, drawing my eyes to the bulge straining against his jeans. Even through the denim, I could see the unmistakable outline of his cock, hard and thick. “That’s for you. All for you.”
Had I ever seen him like this? So raw, so dominant, so… desirable? My breath hitched. I’d caught glimpses before, accidental moments in towels, changing for sports, but never presented to me like this. Never with this intent. My eyes widened, not just in shock, but in a rush of something else, something forbidden and thrilling. Drinking in the sight of his pulsing length, visible even through the fabric, sent a jolt right through me. It was magnificent, intimidating, utterly arousing. My own body reacted instantly. Did he see it? Did he know my pussy was already throbbing in response, aching, yearning for his touch? Was it even possible for my body to betray me so quickly?
“Yes, Lee,” I breathed, the word catching in my throat, my voice suddenly thick, husky with desire. The sound of my own voice surprised me, almost as much as the words themselves. They were out, raw and needy. “Give it to me… please… fuck me…” The plea hung in the air between us, charged with unspoken years, with suppressed desires finally breaking free. Was this really happening? Was I really saying these words to my son?
He stood up straighter, his eyes, dark and intense, burning into mine. He was taller than me now, broader, all sharp angles and hard muscle where there used to be soft boyish curves. He reached out, his hand warm and firm as it closed around mine. He drew me closer, not gently, but with a deliberate pull, until I was standing right in front of him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, to smell the musky scent of his arousal. He lifted my hand, brought it down, and placed it directly on his cock, right where it pressed against his fly. “Feel how hard I am for you, Mom,” he whispered again, his voice low and rough, a voice I barely recognized as my son’s.
My fingers, hesitant at first, then emboldened by a rush of pure, unadulterated lust, wrapped around his hot, throbbing shaft. Even through the denim, I could feel the rigid length, the thick veins pulsing beneath my touch. It was rock hard, alive, throbbing with life, with desire aimed directly at me. “Oh, Lee…” I gasped, the breath catching in my chest, a moan escaping my lips as I squeezed him, lightly at first, then with more pressure, wanting to feel the full extent of his hardness against my palm. My nipples tightened under my thin top, aching for attention, mirroring the pulsing ache between my legs.
He groaned a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through me, and his free hand reached down between my legs again, parting my suddenly damp folds right through my thin panties. Had I really gotten wet this quickly? Was my body truly this starved? His fingers found my clit, swollen and sensitive, even through the fabric. He rubbed it briskly, teasing, circling, sending instant, electrifying waves of pleasure crashing through me. A jolt of pure sensation shot from my centre, spreading outwards, making my legs weak, and my head spin.
“Ready, Mom?” he asked, his voice thick with lust, heavy with an edge of impatience. He knew, didn’t he? He sensed my readiness, my desperate need. Did he see how wet I was already, even through my panties? Was it obvious how much I wanted him, right here, right now?
“Yes,” I choked out, another moan escaping my lips. My hands went to the hem of my dress, pulling it up, bunching it around my waist, wanting him to see, wanting him to have access. I spread my legs wider, instinctively offering myself to him completely, my wet pussy open and exposed, vulnerable, begging for his touch, for his cock. “Please… now…” The word tumbled out, a desperate plea, pleading for release, pleading for him.
He didn’t hesitate. He moved between my legs, his hard cock now free from his jeans, thick, veined, glistening with precum in the dim light of the room. My breath hitched again at the sight of him, fully erect now, magnificent in its arousal. He nudged against my wet entrance, the slick tip pressing against my swollen lips, sending shivers of anticipation racing down my spine. I gasped, feeling the heat of him, the promise of intense, forbidden pleasure. He pushed forward, slowly at first, teasing, stretching me, then with more force, more intent, more urgency. His throbbing shaft slid into my tight channel, inch by agonizing inch, stretching me, filling me, and making me gasp, not with pain, but with a sharp intake of breath that was pure pleasure, pure sensation.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips, holding me still as he buried himself deep, pushing past the initial tightness, burying his entire length inside me. “Mom… you’re so tight… so hot…” His words were ragged, breathless, spilling against my neck as he lowered his head to kiss me, his lips hot and demanding, mirroring the heat of his cock buried deep inside my pussy. He tasted of desire, of raw male hunger. Was this real? Could this really be happening?
He started to move slowly at first, with a deep, deliberate rhythm, each thrust a slow slide in and out, stretching me, filling me, then withdrawing almost completely before plunging back in again. Then he picked up speed, the rhythm intensifying, becoming faster, harder, more insistent. His deep thrusts sent waves of pleasure rippling through my body, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge. I moaned, my hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, needing to hold on, needing to ground myself in the sheer intensity of sensation.
“Yes, Lee… harder… fuck me harder,” I gasped, the words tearing from my throat, my breath coming in ragged pants, each exhales a plea for more, for deeper, for everything he had to give. My head fell back against the pillow, exposing my throat, offering myself even more completely.
He obliged instantly, his thrusts becoming deeper, faster, more intense, slamming into me, filling me with a fiery passion I hadn’t felt in years, maybe ever. My pussy tightened around his shaft, an instinctive, involuntary response, milking him with each stroke, each plunge. The side of his jeans, still hanging low on his hips, rubbed against my mound with each thrust, adding another layer of friction, another layer of sensation to the already overwhelming pleasure. The rough denim against my sensitive skin was exquisite torture, driving me wilder, closer to the edge.
“Oh, God… oh, God… I’m going to come…” I cried out, the words barely coherent, lost in the building crescendo of pleasure. My body arched off the bed, my core clenching, muscles spasming around his cock, pulling him deeper, tighter. Waves of heat washed over me, building, cresting, threatening to overwhelm me completely.
“Cum for me, Mom,” he growled again, his voice thick with urgency now, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, his own release building, I could feel it in the way he moved, the way his body tensed against mine. “Cum for me, baby… right now…”
And I did. It hit me like a tidal wave, a tsunami of pure, unadulterated sensation. Pleasure exploded through me, wave after wave after wave, each one more intense than the last. My body convulsed, shook, my pussy squeezing his cock in a tight, spasmodic grip, milking him, draining him. I cried out, a long, shuddering moan that ripped through me, raw and primal, as the orgasm ripped through me, tearing through every fibre of my being, leaving me breathless, gasping, utterly spent.
He didn’t stop. He kept pumping inside me, even as I convulsed around him, his own rhythm relentless, driving him towards his own peak. “Mom… oh, Mom… fuck…” he groaned into my neck, his body tensing, every muscle rigid with strain, then finally, he exploded inside me, his hot seed flooding my womb, filling me with his essence, marking me as his.
Then, slowly, gradually, the intensity began to recede. His thrusts softened, slowed, and then stopped completely. He went still for a long moment, breathing hard against my neck, his weight heavy on me, a welcome pressure. Then, with a soft sigh, he began to pull back, his cock sliding out of my slick slit with a wet, soft sound, leaving a trail of warmth and moisture behind. My pussy ached, throbbing with aftershocks of pleasure, still wet and splayed open from his hard fucking, still tingling with the memory of his touch, of his heat, of his forbidden passion. I lay there, breathless, sated, and utterly, completely ruined. In the best possible way.
He looked down at me, his eyes soft now, filled with something I couldn’t quite name. “Mom…” he murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “You were… incredible.”
Incredible? Was that what I was? Or was I just a desperate, sex-starved woman who’d crossed a line she should never have crossed? But as I looked into his eyes, as I felt the lingering warmth of his seed still inside me, I knew one thing for sure. Small Willy? He was anything but. And I had a feeling this was just the beginning.