It was February 14th, yes valentines day and I had a date. I had clean shaven my you know. I got on my short red dress and yes I left my knickers off as you never know. I was putting on lipstick in the mirror and hear a little whistle.
“Damn mum, you look…” he stopped speaking as he was shocked.
I spun around, a tube of bright red lipstick still poised in my hand, my heart giving a little lurch. Liam, my eighteen-year-old, stood in the doorway, his eyes wide, almost comically so. He was wearing his usual uniform of a hoodie and jeans, a stark contrast to my carefully curated allure. His gaze had swept down from my face, lingering for a fraction of a second on the low neckline of the dress, before snapping back up to my eyes, a frantic searching for an appropriate response.
“Liam! What on earth are you doing?” I tried to sound stern, but a flush crept up my neck. I knew exactly what he’d seen, and perhaps what he’d been about to say. The ‘you know’ part of my morning shave suddenly felt very exposed.
He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Uh, nothing. Just… looking for the remote. I didn’t know you were, uh, you were…” He trailed off again, gesturing vaguely at me with one hand, as if trying to encompass my entire shocking ensemble with a single, awkward sweep. He starred at the neckline of my cleavage.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to regain some composure. “I was getting ready, as you can clearly see. Are you going to finish that sentence, young man? Or is your vocabulary suddenly limited to ‘uh’ and ‘you were’?”
He squirmed. “No! I mean, it’s just… you look really… different.” He avoided the word ‘good’ or ‘hot’ or anything else a teenager might blurt out, bless him. The ‘different’ hung in the air, loaded with unspoken observations about lipstick, short dresses, and the general aura of a mother going out on the pull.
I let out a short, breathy laugh, though a part of me was still reeling from being caught in such a vulnerable, albeit confident, moment. “Different? Is that the best you can do, Liam?” I finally put the lipstick tube down on the dresser, picking up a small clutch bag instead. “Well, thank you, I suppose. I was actually aiming for ‘glamorous’ or ‘stunning’, but ‘different’ will have to do.” My tone was light, but my eyes held his, a silent challenge for him to elaborate, though I knew he wouldn’t.
He shuffled his feet, his gaze flicking down to my legs before snapping back up. I felt a little flush of heat as I remembered the deliberate lack of underwear. Oh, to be eighteen again and so easily flustered by a woman in a short dress. “No, I mean… it’s just, you don’t usually… I mean, you look really… nice, mum. Really nice.” He finally managed a compliment, albeit a very safe one. His cheeks were a little red.
“Right,” I said, a small, knowing smile playing on my lips. “And what exactly were you looking for, apart from a reason to wander into my bedroom unannounced?” I gestured vaguely towards the door.
“The remote!” he blurted, clearly relieved to have a legitimate excuse. “The TV remote. I can’t find it anywhere. I thought maybe you had it in here for some reason.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you thought it prudent to just walk in without knocking? Especially when you heard me getting ready?”
He winced. “Sorry. I did knock, I think. Maybe you didn’t hear me over… whatever you were doing.” He gestured again, a vague sweep that probably encompassed the faint scent of my perfume, the shimmering fabric of the dress, and the overall aura of transformation.
“I was putting on lipstick, Liam,” I stated, a hint of steel in my voice. “And no, you didn’t knock. Now, the remote is probably exactly where you left it, under a cushion in the living room. Go on, I’m almost ready.”
My phone buzzed again in my hand. I glanced down, my smile faltered, then vanished completely. The cheerful red of the dress suddenly felt oppressive, the carefully applied lipstick a cruel joke.
“Hey babe, I can’t make tonight I am really sorry something came up.”
I let out an angry sigh and stormed downstairs, the short red dress swishing around my legs, the carefully chosen perfume now feeling like a mask. Liam, who had apparently found the remote and was already sprawled on the sofa, looked up, his eyes widening again as he saw my furious descent, and then, my target.
I went straight to the drinks cabinet, pulling out a heavy crystal tumbler and a bottle of my good single malt whisky. The clink of glass against glass seemed to echo in the sudden silence of the living room. I didn’t bother with ice, just poured a generous measure, the amber liquid glinting under the lights. Liam watched me, a mixture of bewilderment and concern on his face.
“Mum?” he ventured, his voice tentative. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
I sank onto the couch beside him, the red fabric of my dress bunching slightly as I practically collapsed. The whisky bottle was still clutched in my left hand, the glass in my right. I took a long, burning gulp, the liquid searing a path down my throat, a welcome distraction from the sharp sting of disappointment. It was a stark contrast to the delicate sip of a cocktail I’d envisioned having with my date.
“Everything,” I said, my voice thick with suppressed fury and a growing lump in my throat, “is absolutely not okay, Liam.” I slammed the glass down on the coffee table, a little whisky sloshing over the brim. “It appears,” I continued, gesturing vaguely towards my ridiculously dressed self, “that this entire charade was for nothing.”
He sat up straighter, looking from me to the whisky, then back to my face. “What charade? Mum, you look amazing. Really, you do. What happened?”
“He cancelled,” I blurted out, the words tasting bitter.
“Sorry for my language but, fuck him. Tell you what let’s pretend I am your date, I know I am not Brad Pitt or anything…” I stopped him.
I stopped him, my hand raising slightly, not in anger, but in a sudden, unexpected wave of something akin to incredulity mixed with a strange, warm tenderness. My son. My eighteen-year-old son, who usually communicated in grunts and PlayStation commands, was offering to be my Valentine’s date. The absurdity of it, coupled with the sheer, sweet earnestness in his eyes, hit me. The anger, which had been a hot, swirling mess in my gut, suddenly felt… distant. Replaced by a new, lighter feeling. This wasn’t what I’d planned, not at all, but perhaps it was exactly what I needed.
I looked at him, really looked at him. His cheeks were still flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and genuine concern. He meant it. He really did.
“You know what, Liam?” I finally said, a genuine smile, albeit a little wobbly, spreading across my face. “Brad Pitt has nothing on you right now.” I picked up my whisky glass, taking another, slightly less furious, sip.
“So… how a bout it mum. Let me ring a pizza and ill have the beers out of the fridge and you drink whisky. We can watch any movie your choice,” he said as he smiled at me.
“You know what, Liam?” I said, a soft laugh escaping me. “That sounds like the best damn Valentine’s date a girl could ask for.” I leaned back against the sofa, letting the tension seep out of my shoulders. “Ok get the beers honey, let me ring the pizza, it’s a date.”
Liam’s face lit up, a broad, genuine grin replacing his earlier awkwardness. “Seriously? Awesome!” He practically launched himself off the sofa, heading towards the kitchen with a newfound energy. “Beers coming right up! And what kind of pizza? The usual pepperoni and mushroom for me, but anything you want, obviously, it’s your special date!” His voice echoed back from the kitchen, already rummaging in the fridge.
I watched him go, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the whisky. He was right. This was my date. And in a strange, unexpected way, it felt more real, more comforting than anything I’d been planning. The short red dress still felt a little ridiculous for a night in with my son, but the knickers-off decision now simply felt like a private, rebellious little secret, adding a subtle layer of amusement to the evening. It wasn’t about a romantic encounter anymore; it was about reclaiming the night, and finding joy in an unexpected place.
I picked up my phone again, but this time, it wasn’t to mourn a cancelled date. It was to order pizza. “Okay, let’s go for something a bit fancy tonight,” I called out to Liam, who was clanking beer bottles together. “How about a gourmet veggie supreme? Or maybe even a Hawaiian, just to annoy you?”
“Ew, mum, no Hawaiian!” he groaned from the kitchen, but there was laughter in his voice. “Just pepperoni and mushroom for me, please!”
I chuckled, already feeling lighter. “Fine, fine. Two pizzas it is. And no, Liam, I won’t tell them to put pineapple on yours.” I could hear him sigh in exaggerated relief. As I dialled the local pizzeria, a smile truly reached my eyes. The evening hadn’t gone to plan, not by a long shot. But sometimes, the best dates weren’t the ones you meticulously planned, but the ones that surprised you, offering warmth, laughter, and the unexpected comfort of the people who mattered most. Tonight, Valentine’s Day, was turning out to be about love after all – just not the kind I’d been expecting. And frankly, it felt pretty perfect.
2 Hours later I was full from pizza and very drunk on the whisky. My short red dress was now rumpled, the carefully applied lipstick probably smudged, and my hair, which had been styled with such ambition, was now escaping its confines in wispy tendrils around my face. I was slumped deep into the sofa cushions, my head lolling slightly, the empty whisky bottle a distant memory on the coffee table beside the pizza boxes.
Liam, bless his heart, was still upright, though he looked a little tired. He’d probably only had one and a half beers, mostly focusing on his pepperoni and mushroom pizza and a zombie-apocalypse movie that was now flickering silently on the TV screen. His initial shock at my appearance had long since faded, replaced by a kind of quiet, amused patience.
“Mum,” he said, his voice soft, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You know you’re snoring a bit.”
I let out a loud, unladylike snort-giggle, trying to straighten up but only managing to slide further down the plush sofa. “I am not,” I slurred, waving a hand vaguely in his direction. “It’s… it’s the whisky talking. Very eloquent whisky, mind you.”
He chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. “Right. Very eloquent. You still think Brad Pitt has nothing on me?”
I opened one eye, peering at him through a haze of tipsiness. He was still in his hoodie and jeans, looking utterly unremarkable, and utterly perfect. “Liam, honey,” I drawled, feeling a sudden surge of overwhelming affection. “Brad Pitt is probably a very nice man, but he doesn’t bring me pizza and watch zombie movies with me when my actual date cancels. So no, he has absolutely nothing on you.”
He blushed slightly, a boyish flush that made him seem younger than his eighteen years. “Glad to be of service, Mum.”
“God a good hard servicing is just what I need right about…” I totally forgot who I was talking to. I looked at him his jeans were slightly tenting.
Liam swallowed hard, his eyes widening. “Mum…” he started, his voice a low murmur.
“haha sorry sweetie it just came out,” I was flushed by it but before long we ended up casually talking about sex.
Moments later.
“So with you and dad, what things did you like, you know.” He said looking embarrassed.
“You dad was very adventurous but he loved it doggy and I did,” I said pouring another whisky.
“I use to love my ex’s tits. She would let me titty fuck them, haha. I feel weird talking like this with you,” he said opening a can of beer.
“Sweetie don’t be, besides your my date remember,” I took a sip and it burned my throat.
“Ha, yeah, I remember,” Liam said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he took a swig of beer. “So, what about you and dad? What got you going, if you don’t mind me asking? Also, what… what get’s you going.”
I took another sip of whisky, feeling the warmth spread through my chest as I considered his questions. “Well, your dad was quite the charmer back in the day,” I said with a small, nostalgic smile. “He had a way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world. And, of course, his… equipment was impressive.”
“All this talk is working me up haha, sorry mum.” He said looking very embarrassed. “We are on a date you said before, don’t be mad, fuck I hope you won’t be. Why… never mind.”
“No Liam what is it,” I said curious to what he was going to say.
“Mum, what if… what if we did more than just talk?” Liam asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He fidgeted with the can of beer in his hand, his eyes darting nervously to mine and then quickly away again. “I mean, we’re already… you know, in a situation. And you said yourself, it’s been a while since you’ve… done anything.” I stared at him, my heart suddenly racing in my chest. The whisky seemed to fog my brain, making the notion feel both scandalous and strangely appealing.
“Liam, honey,” I said, my voice low and husky, “you’re my son. My baby boy. We can’t… I can’t…”
“But you said we’re on a date,” he interrupted, his voice growing more confident. “And you’re not exactly dressed for your book club, are you? What colour knickers you have on.”
“Colour of my…” I was shocked he asked me that, how do I answer this. I am not wearing any. My fanny is bare under this dress. The way he was talking, like he wanted to shag me, his own mum. I felt venerable very venerable then I just came out with it, “I don’t have any knickers on.”
“No knickers?” he repeated, his voice a low, teasing murmur. “Well, I guess that explains why you looked so… confident when I walked in.” I felt my face flush, a mix of embarrassment and a strange, electric excitement.
This was absolutely insane. I was having a conversation about my lack of underwear with my son. But there was something about the way he was looking at me, with a mix of awe and desire, that made it hard to think straight.
Then he shocked me with, “Maybe we should rap this up in your room.”
“My room?” I echoed, trying to keep my voice steady. I wanted to laugh, to gasp, to do anything but sit here, my mind spinning. “What are you suggesting.”
Liam’s eyes locked onto mine, a fierce intensity burning in them. “I’m suggesting we finish this… conversation upstairs. In private.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You said it yourself, Mum. You’re not wearing any knickers. And I’m…I’m really fucking hard right now.”
“Are you…are you serious right now?” I finally managed to stammer out, my voice barely above a whisper. “Liam, this is…this is insane. We can’t…I mean, you’re my son.” But even as I said the words, a part of me was already considering it. The ache between my legs, the throbbing need that had been building since our earlier conversations, was suddenly screaming at me to say yes.
Liam’s eyes flicked down to my lips, then back up to meet my gaze. “I’m dead serious, Mum,” he said, his voice low and intense. “Sorry, I will stop it.”
“No, no, it’s alright, Liam,” I said, my voice a husky whisper. The truth was, I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stop. I know bad right, what type of mum would I be if I let my own son put his dick in me. But I missed cock so badly, I am here in this dress and no knickers on. “Maybe we should change the subject.”
“Mum?” Liam’s voice was a low murmur, full of uncertainty and longing. “Is this okay? I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with.” I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.
“It’s not that, Liam,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Liam’s eyes widened as I spoke, a mix of relief and anticipation flashing across his face. “So… you’re not saying no?” he asked, his voice hopeful.
“Liam,” I breathed, my voice trembling slightly, his hand now on my thing squeezing it. “We shouldn’t…but God help me, I want to. But we can’t, your my boy. Fuck, I don’t wanna say it as it sounds disgusting, we can’t have vaginal sex. I am your MUM.”
Liam’s hand froze on my thigh, his eyes searching mine. “I… I understand, but I am supposed to be your date remember. I know I keep saying it but, I know deep down you need it.”
Liam’s hand slowly slid up my thigh, his touch gentle yet firm. “Mum,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear, “I know this is wrong, but I can’t help how I feel. I want you so badly.” His fingers inched closer to the apex of my thighs, brushing against the bare skin of my clean shaven fanny.
I let out a shuddering breath as Liam’s fingers brushed against my bare fanny, the sensation sending electric shocks through my body. I knew this was wrong, that we were crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, but the ache between my legs was too strong to ignore.
“Liam,” I gasped, my voice trembling with need and uncertainty. “We can’t…we really can’t do this.” But even as I said the words, I was spreading my legs wider, giving him better access.
His fingers explored gently, feeling how wet I was for him. “Fuck mum you’re soaking wet,” he groaned.
“I know Liam,” I moaned softly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry mum,” he said as he started fingering me gently. “It’s okay.”
“Oh God Liam,” I moaned loudly as he fingered me faster. “That feels so good baby. Ahh honey. We… shouldn’t… ahhh. Fuck… I need your dick.”
“Mum, you can have my dick in a moment,” he said, his voice husky, “I want to make you feel good. Really good.” He leaned down, pressing kisses along my inner thigh. I gasped as I felt his hot breath on my bare skin.
“Liam, what are you doing?” I asked, my voice trembling. “I’m going to eat your pussy,” he said bluntly. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.” Before I could respond. His tongue licked along my slit, tasting my juices. I moaned loudly as he sucked on my clit, his fingers still pumping in and out of me.
“Fuck Liam,” I cried out, tangling my fingers in his hair. “Your tongue feels amazing.”
“Mum, you look so hot, I think your ready for dick,” he said as he started to undo his jeans.
Liam’s fingers deftly unbuttoned his jeans, the zipper sliding down with a soft hiss. He pushed them down along with his boxers, freeing his erect cock. It sprang out, hard and throbbing, the tip glistening with pre-cum.I stared at it, my mouth suddenly dry.
It was big for a teenager, thicker and longer. “Oh my,” I breathed, my eyes widening slightly. “You’ve grown up quite nicely.” I reached out tentatively, wrapping my hand around his shaft. He let out a low groan as I began to stroke him slowly.
Liam’s hips bucked forward, his cock throbbing in my hand. “Fuck, Mum,” he gasped, his voice strained. “That feels so good.” I pumped him slowly, marvelling at the silky smoothness of his skin and the hardness beneath.
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “I want to fuck you so badly,” he whispered urgently. “I want to feel your pussy wrapped around my dick.” His words sent a shiver down my spine, the crude language only adding to my arousal.
I guided him between my legs, feeling the head of his cock brush against my slick folds. “Then do it,” I breathed, my voice barely audible. “Fuck me, Liam.
With a groan of relief and desire, Liam pushed forward, the head of his cock slipping inside me.
Liam’s eyes widened as he felt my warmth envelop him. “Fuck, Mum,” he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “You’re so tight.” He slowly pushed further, inch by inch, filling me completely. I gasped as he bottomed out, my walls stretching to accommodate his size. It had been so long since I’d felt a man inside me, and Liam was larger than I’d expected.
“Oh God,” I moaned, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “You’re so big.” Liam began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in. His pace was gentle at first, allowing me to adjust to his size. But soon, his hips were moving faster, his thrusts becoming more forceful.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with our moans and gasps. “Harder,” I demanded breathlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Fuck me harder. Ahh honey, you… you grown up so quickly… yes harder. Ahhh my fanny… fuck my fanny.”
Liam’s hips snapped forward, his cock plunging deep into my pussy. “Fuck, Mum, I love how you talk about your…” he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure.
Liam’s hips moved faster, his cock slamming into me with increasing force. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the room, punctuated by our moans and gasps. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back as he pounded into me relentlessly. Balls deep.
“What… ahhh you… you mean talking about… my… ahhh fanny,” I couldn’t get the words out as I was enjoying his dick.
“Yeah, Mum,” Liam groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “Talk about your fucking fanny. Tell me how much you love my big cock stretching it out.” His words were crude, but they only served to turn me on more. He then pulled his cock out, “w-what you doing, why you stopping?”
“I am going to do you doggystyle mum,” he flipped me over and I raised my ass up. It wasn’t long before his dick was back inside my pussy.
Liam’s hands gripped my hips tightly as he slammed into me from behind, his cock stretching me wide open. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, hitting spots inside me that I didn’t even know existed. I cried out in pleasure, my fingers digging into the sheets beneath me.
“Fuck mum, your pussy feels amazing,” Liam groaned, his hips moving faster as he fucked me harder from behind. His balls slapped against my clit with each thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. “I love seeing my dick disappear inside you.”
“Ahhh Liam!” I screamed, pushing my hips back to meet his thrusts. “It’s so big! It’s hitting me so deep!” I could feel my orgasm building rapidly, my inner walls tightening around his shaft.
“That’s it, mum,” Liam encouraged, reaching around to rub my clit furiously. “Come on my cock. I want to feel you squirt all over it. If I was you mum I would hold on tight I am really going to go to town on you. Hold on now.”
I gripped the sheets tightly, my knuckles turning white as Liam’s fingers rubbed my clit in fast, tight circles. His other hand gripped my hip, holding me in place as he slammed into me from behind with increasing force. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding, my screams of pleasure mixing with Liam’s grunts and groans. My ass cheeks clapped loudly against his abs as he took me brutally and fucked me good.
“Fuck mum, I’m going to… ahhhh…” Liam’s voice trailed off into a loud moan as he buried himself deep inside me, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he came. I felt his hot seed filling me up, coating my insides with his sticky cum.
I felt Liam’s hot cum filling me up, coating my insides with his sticky seed. My pussy clenched around him, milking his cock for every last drop. The sensation of him coming inside me was intense, sending me hurtling over the edge into my own orgasm. As our orgasms subsided, Liam slowly pulled out of me, his softening cock slipping free with a wet plop. He dropped onto the bed. my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Liam lay down beside me, his arm curling around my waist to pull me close.
“So… was I a good date mum,” he finally spoke.
“A good date?” I repeated, my voice still husky from our activities. “Liam, that was… a unique experience, to say the least. But I think we both know it was a little more than just a date, don’t you?” He looked up at me, his eyes serious for a moment before a sheepish grin spread across his face.
“Yeah, maybe a bit more than that,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction. I couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound low and amused.
“Well, as your mother, I suppose I should be horrified by what just happened,” I said, shaking my head. “But to be honest, it felt… good. Thank you.” I sighed and we drifted off to sleep, I fell asleep smiling that night.