I couldn’t stop looking at her.
Ever since my mother got pregnant for the second time and my father left, she became sadder, but also much more beautiful. It wasn’t uncommon for me to often feel uncomfortable with some of the short clothes she wore. I was afraid of getting hard and her noticing. Even though sometimes, perhaps, all I needed was for her to know.
She divorced my father quickly; I tried to help her however I could. Anything was better than being a burden at that moment. I didn’t get into college—I don’t even know if I could have sustained a formal academic life—and even though they weren’t exactly rich, I know my inability to get a “yes” was disappointing for both of them. That’s why I started working as a cashier at a fast food place near home. Of course, I earned much less than what was needed to help her with things for my future brother. One day of the alimony she got was worth more than my salary. But my mother didn’t seem that worried about it, since besides the alimony she would have, she also had a job at a brokerage firm. In other words, she knew very well how to handle money.
That made me question why I was subjecting myself to such a poorly paid job. I reflected on it some nights when I got home and just wanted the house to implode with me inside, just so I wouldn’t have to get up the next day. But the answer was obvious: it was because of her. It was because I wanted to be the support that, in my mind, my mother needed!
For five months, it became clear that she didn’t need my help, but I still continued. I wanted her to look at me as someone she could trust! Even though she had never asked me to do anything, and my job seemed like just a form of self-flagellation.
However, things changed on a Saturday night when I quit—frankly, my mother didn’t even care.
I was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, pretending to mess with my phone, but my eyes were glued to the curves of her waist while she washed the dishes. Five months pregnant and she still looked made to be looked at. The white tank top was clinging to her breasts, two dark circles of milk staining the fabric. She hadn’t worn a bra for weeks. The jeans jacket was slipping off one shoulder, and the black panties—one of the few pieces that still fit—disappeared between the buttocks that had become even rounder. I felt my cock hardening just from looking.
I was about to leave when she spoke, without turning around:
“Eric… stay here a second, please.”
I went back. She dried her hands and turned around. Her belly lifted the tank top, leaving a strip of stretched skin exposed. Her bun was loose, black strands stuck to her sweaty neck.
“How are you, son? For real.”
I swallowed hard. That genuine affection in her eyes even made me want to cry. I didn’t.
“It’s… everything’s fine,” I replied, but I think she noticed it was a lie.
“You’ve been doing everything for me. Everything! And I know I haven’t been giving you any attention…” She took a step forward. “Give me a hug? Please…”
I opened my arms. She fit into me as if she had never left. Her scent—warm milk, slightly sweaty skin, and cheap perfume—hit me full force. My arms squeezed too hard. Her belly pressed against my cock, which was already hardening. I felt her breathe deeply against my neck.
“It’s okay, my love,” she whispered, as if she knew.
I pulled away too quickly, muttering, “good night,” choking. I fled to my room.
I lay down and turned off the light; I just wanted her out of my head! But I couldn’t sleep. I kept reliving the hug, the warmth of her belly, the way her heavy breasts pressed against my chest. My cock was throbbing. I couldn’t resist; I jerked off thinking about her—something I had already done almost every night since her divorce—and came quickly, ashamed. I couldn’t remember having thought of her that way during my adolescence or any other time.
I managed to sleep a little after masturbating. But it didn’t last long. A few hours later, I woke up to the door creaking.
The hallway light outlined my mother’s silhouette. Black silk nightgown, so thin that I could see her hard nipples, the round belly, the lace of her transparent panties. Hair loose, long, voluminous. High heels. She looked like a naughty goddess who had entered the wrong room.
“Mom…?”
She closed the door, walked to the bed, and sat beside me. Her hand slipped over the blanket until it found my cock, getting hard again.
“I saw how hard you got today,” she said, voice low and husky. “And I liked it.”
“Mom, I…”
“Shhh…” She squeezed lightly and put the index finger of her other hand over my lips. “I’m not satisfied with things as they are either, Eric. I’m alone. Very alone. And today, when you hugged me… I missed that. I missed feeling desired. By someone who really wants me.”
She leaned in. The kiss came hot, tongue, light bite on my lower lip. I moaned into her mouth.
“Mom…”
“For you, I’m Anne tonight,” she whispered against my mouth. Just tonight.”
Her hands pulled the blanket away. My cock jumped out, now completely hard. She held it, jerking me slowly.
“Look how hard you are for me… my boy has grown so much.”
“M-mom…” There was something in me that still wanted to fight against what was happening. This is wrong…” I don’t know how much I still cared about that.
“Is it wrong for me to want the only man who truly treats me well?” She licked my neck. Is it wrong for me to want to feel my son inside me?”
She climbed onto the bed and knelt over me. The nightgown rode up to her waist. The lace panties were soaked, the fabric stuck to her swollen pussy.
“Touch me, Eric. Feel how wet I am for you!”
I ran my hand over the lace. It was drenched. She moaned.
“Yes… feel mommy wet for your cock!”
She pushed the panties aside and lowered herself all at once. I went in fully—hot, tight, dripping. She let out a long moan.
“Fuck, you’re so thick… you fill mommy completely.”
She started riding. Slowly at first, then faster, harder. Her breasts bounced inside the lace. Her belly rubbed against my abdomen with each descent.
“Squeeze me, son. Squeeze mommy’s tits.”
I grabbed them. The lace bra tore easily. Her nipples were huge, dripping milk. I took one to my mouth and sucked. The sweet taste made me moan
“Yes… drink… drink mommy’s milk while she fucks you!”
She sped up. The bed creaked loudly. The sound of bodies slapping filled the room.
“Mom… I… I’m gonna come!”
“Don’t you dare!, she growled, digging her nails into my shoulders. “I want you deep. I want you filling me all night!”
I tried to hold back, but it was impossible; the pressure of her pussy on my cock was too strong! It was clear she was about to come too, so I gave up trying to hold it. But I did it in a slightly more… dominant way.
I grabbed her ass, pulled her down hard. I came screaming, shooting everything inside her. She came with me, trembling all over, her pussy squeezing me in waves.
She collapsed on top of me, panting. Milk still dripped from her breast onto mine. We stayed like that, stuck together, sweaty, with my cock still throbbing inside her.
After a while, she kissed my neck, whispering in my ear, “When this baby is born… you’re going to get me pregnant again! You’re going to leave me full of your child. You hear me? My baby…”
I felt my cock inside her. It wasn’t softening. Even though the head was a little sore. It was the second time I’d come that day.
“Yes,” I replied. Even though at that moment I wasn’t thinking straight, I liked the idea of marking her permanently.
She smiled naughtily and started grinding slowly.
“Then start practicing, my love. Because from today on, this pussy is only yours.”
I felt the head of my cock pulse inside her. It hurt a little.
“Mom…” I had to say, “stop. Please!”
She stopped moving, but I could still feel her inner walls, wet and tight, squeezing me. As if she were milking me.
“What is it, my baby?”
“I can’t anymore,” I said, pulling my cock out; cum dripped from her pussy. “I already came twice today…”
She looked at me seriously, but in a few seconds, her expression became as naughty as before. She put her hand on my chin.
“So the baby jerked off today…” She gave me a soft little kiss, just to taste her again. “Who was it for, my love? Was it for me? Tell the truth.”
Ashamed, I replied, “Yes. Since… since dad left. Every time it was… it was with you, mom.”
Her eyes were no longer just naughty, but sweet at the same time. She leaned over me again, letting all her weight down. We kissed passionately this time. Her whole body pressed against mine—with weight and sweat.
“It’s okay, my love,” she said, after a few minutes, just devouring me with her kiss. “But I still want more, so I think it’s better if my baby takes something to get more… energy.”
She got off me and lay beside me. She positioned herself the same way she did when I was a child. She offered me the other breast. I sucked as if I were starving. My cock wasn’t hard yet, but I knew in the position I was in, it wouldn’t take long. While I sucked the sweet milk, she stroked my hair, at the same time, one of her hands started caressing my cock too.
Little by little, I started getting hard again.
“Good boy,” she said, taking her breast from my mouth and kissing me again. “Now it’s your turn to be on top of mommy.”
I positioned myself over her, with some care. I rubbed the head of my cock against the swollen lips of her sticky pussy. It was enough to make her let out a deep moan.
“Put it in already, son; my horniness came back since you put your mouth on my breast!”
I thrust in all at once. But after a long moan that came from both me and her, I pumped slowly. She didn’t insist that I speed up. We weren’t fucking anymore; we were making love.
She smothered me with her kisses while squeezing my shoulders, wrapping her legs around my waist. I squeezed her too, but with some care. The way her belly and her breasts served as support for my body seemed perfect!
I sped up a little. The minimum after she whispered against my mouth that she was almost coming again.
“Yes… fuck mommy… fuck me till… I come!”
I kept the rhythm until I felt her sucking me with her pussy again. She didn’t scream; she just let out a long, husky moan, pulling me as if she wanted our bodies to merge.
I stopped thrusting, but my cock was completely hard inside her.
“Now I want to taste your milk, baby!”
I got up and stood beside the bed. Since she didn’t have as much mobility as she’d like, she sat up and started sucking me. The way she drooled and sucked was indescribable! I’d never gotten such a good blowjob in my life.
“Fuck, mom,” I said. “I won’t last much longer…”
She held my cock firmly at the base and sucked the head with everything. It didn’t take long for me to shoot the rest of the cum I had left straight into her mouth.
Nothing was left in her mouth. Not a drop ran down her chin either.
After spending a few seconds kissing my cock, she said, looking deep into my eyes, “Let’s go to bed, my love. But not here! Tonight, and from now on, my room is ours.”
We cleaned up and went to her room. It was the first night we slept embraced.
