Cum Stay With Me, Mom

Author's note: Trying out a first-person POV story. Hope you enjoy!

Before I tell you all of this, I suppose I should introduce myself.

My name is Liam, and despite what you're going to think, I'm actually a pretty normal guy. I had no complaints about my upbringing, growing up in a fairly working-class area around regular people just living their lives.

It wasn't until I became a teenager that I realized how young my parents were when they had me. It couldn't have been easy. Money was tight, but I grew up fast and chased my independence. It's not like there was anything to escape from back home. I just wanted to be in charge of my own fate.

My relationship with my dad was always pretty distant, but that was mostly because he was working all the time. I have a much, much closer relationship with my mom. We've always understood each other, and when times were really tough, we supported each other too.

Okay, I might as well admit it: ever since I can remember, I've always thought Mom was hot.

She's tall just like me, has dirty blonde hair just like me, and her ass looks incredible in a pair of mom jeans. Something in the way her hips are shaped, so curvy and alluring, makes me stare at her butt every chance I get. She has a mom ass, and it's a great one.

And her tits, oh my God, not huge by any means, but round, perky, and always showing through whatever top she was wearing. Every so often, I'd get the chance to brush against the side of one of her breasts and discover all over again how they could be firm, yet at the same time so, so soft.

After some time at community college I was able to land a decent job. I had a few casual girlfriends along the way and mostly forgot about the boyish crush I used to have on my mother. That I still have.

Then one day, not so long after my twenty-first birthday, my parents got a divorce.

Mom hadn't had anything that you could call a job for a long time. I guess with me gone, there wasn't the need for the extra money anymore. When Dad somehow ended up with the house, she had nowhere left to go and only minimal spousal support to live on. So, we agreed that she could come stay with me.

After all, I've got a couch she can sleep on. Maybe you can see where this is going...

It was Saturday, and I was glad not to be working for once. Day off or not, I was busy enough cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. I was being so thorough that I was wiping away dirt from previous tenants that hadn't been cleaned in a decade or more. I also worked up quite the sweat.

An incoming call on my phone announced that someone wanted me to let them in the building. I pushed 9 and heard the long, dull tone that meant she had been let in. Tossing away the cleaning supplies and used paper towels, I prepared to receive my guest.

"Hi, honey," Mom announced herself, struggling to open the apartment door with all her suitcases and bags. "It's so good to see you. You have no idea how heavy this stuff is."

"Here, let me help you with that," I said, rushing over to her. I unlooped the backpack from around her arms and leaned in for a quick peck on her cheek. "This one looks heavy; I'll take it," I told her, reaching down and grabbing the suitcase handle. She was still holding onto it.

Lifting it up, I accidentally brushed against the side of her left breast. It sent a quick thrill up my arm, and I'm not too ashamed to admit that it also sent one into my loins. My arms flexed along with my cock as I brought her stuff inside.

"Oh, thank you so much, Liam," Mom sighed. "I'm just glad to finally be here."

"Come in, I'll give you the grand tour," I said jokingly, facing inside and turning my back to her as I surreptitiously adjusted my crotch.

My apartment was a one-bedroom, and you could see it in its entirety from the front door. "This is the kitchen, this is the living room, that's the bathroom, and this is the couch." My room was the only thing I left out of the tour.

Mom took in a deep breath and let out an emotional shudder as she looked upon her temporary home. Like so many things in her life at that moment, the amount of time she'd be spending here could only be described as 'indeterminate.'

"It's a good couch," I reassured her. "Pretty comfy. Why don't you sit down, and I'll get you something to drink?"

"Just some water, please." Her voice sounded small as she took in her surroundings.

I busied myself in the kitchen. The fact that my mom was staying at my apartment was starting to truly sink in. It was going to be quite an adjustment after having the place to myself for the past couple of years. It would be for both of us.

When I turned around with the glass of cold water, I was struck by the sight of my mother standing in front of the couch. Her belongings lay in a heap beside her, and she looked vulnerable, lost, and more than a little beautiful.

I was struck by the idea that the person standing in my living room was now a single woman out on her own. Before, Mom had always just been one of my parents: the woman who bore me and the wife of my dad. Now, she was an attractive, unattached woman, crashing on my couch.

I tried not to dwell on the implications as I handed her the glass. I wasn't successful.

"Here you go. Sit down, Mom; I bet it's been a hell of a day." We proceeded to chat about how she got here, both the trip to my apartment and the broader series of events leading to this point. We talked around the divorce until it could be ignored no longer.

"I just wasn't feeling fulfilled," Mom said, "and your father and I were fighting all the time. I think he might have been running around on me. We weren't really..." she trailed off. "He didn't seem like he cared about me anymore. I guess it doesn't matter whether there was someone else or not."

"I don't think Dad would ever cheat on you, Mom," I lied. "And you're right, it doesn't matter anymore. You've got me." I patted the couch, emphasizing that this is where she was staying now. "And this will be fun! You're gonna love living here just as much as I do."

She looked around the apartment. It wasn't anything fancy, and it hadn't been painted in a long time. But it was clean, and if it was good enough for her son, then it was going to have to be good enough for her. "Reminds me of when I was your age. You know, we had you in a place like this. Bit smaller, even."

"I don't remember."

"You were very young, honey. Just a baby. Not like now," she said, touching me on the leg. My cock jumped. If only my mother knew the effect she had on me. Hell, in many ways, I was starting to discover it for myself. "You're all grown up now. You've got your own place and everything."

"It's a good thing one of us is responsible," I joked. Maybe that went a bit too far, because her eyes immediately cast downwards, making her look sad. "Don't worry," I reassured her, sliding towards her and putting my arm around her shoulders. The way her hip felt against mine made my throat tight. "Believe it or not, I'm gonna take care of you now."

"Honey, this is all so..." she whispered.

"Exciting?" I asked, trying to sound positive. "Listen, we're gonna get you settled in, order some pizza, and watch something light and funny. How's that sound?"

"Okay," Mom said, leaning her head against my shoulder. "Thanks, honey."

So we did just that. Mom messed around with her things and laid them out around the couch as best she could. Just because she was staying at my apartment didn't mean she wasn't still living out of a suitcase, and her bags were going to become part of the living room furniture. The suitcases of her clothes lay zipped open on the floor as she organized them.

Inside one of them, I caught a glimpse of something eye-catching: a pair of black lace panties.

My mom's ass clad in nothing but that scant, scandalous thong was now the only thing I could think of. Who knew she owned something that sexy! I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands over those creamy cheeks and feel that rough black lace under my fingers.

My cock was really starting to really pay attention now. I could practically hear it whining and begging me to stroke it until it exploded, but now was really not the time. But if not now, when?

The fact that I'd have to manage my usual masturbation habits with Mom in such close proximity somehow hadn't crossed my mind until just now. I masturbate a lot, so it was about to get a lot more interesting around here.

"What do you want on the pizza?" I asked, eager for the distraction. I listened to Mom figure out her toppings. "Okay, I'll call them."

I put on a comedy film when the pizza arrived and we ate dinner on the couch in front of the TV. The food was good, and it had us both feeling stuffed and contented. It wasn't just my stomach feeling full, though: the movie had sex scenes in it, and I'd be lying if I said they didn't turn me on.

Watching sex scenes with your mom is one of those rites of passage that every boy goes through. While the sexy parts of this particular movie were mostly played for laughs, the very concept of two people fucking had me aching for sexual release.

Speaking of which, this particular sex scene was finally coming to a climax. The actors made hilarious faces as they pretended to cum their brains out while I breathed heavily enough for Mom to hear with my jeans obviously tented. Unable to adjust myself without drawing further attention, all I could do was hope that she didn't notice.

After the movie, I made an excuse to turn in early, figuring that Mom would appreciate a bit of alone time to take stock of her situation. She was going to need to get used to sleeping in my living room, and the first night was bound to be hard.

"Sure, honey," she said when I told her that I was heading to my room. "I'll be out here. Oh, and Liam," she said. "Thanks again, honey."

"Anytime, Mom. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I flew into my room and shoved the door behind me, not noticing the rush of air that prevented it from closing completely. Moments later I was naked, lying flat on my back with my dick in my hand. I never jerk off with clothes on. I like to make a mess.

I flipped through my phone and found a suitable porn video. Coincidentally, it was one of those fake family sex videos, though this one didn't go the usual route of pretending they were stepson and stepmother. This one was old-school, revelling in the lurid portrayal of taboo incest between blood relatives.

God, my cock was hard. It was one of those erections that you get when your balls are full to the brim and aching to get the cum out of them by any means necessary. I barely even looked at the video as I stroked, marvelling at how big and firm my erection was. The head of my dick flexed and flared, and I couldn't help but moan in pleasure.

I started imagining the woman in the video, currently bouncing on her fake son's cock, as my own mother. I transplanted her sexy features onto the woman's body, imagining Mom groping her perky tits and fondling her erect nipples as she put on a sexy show as we fucked.

Just as I was starting to really get lost in the fantasy, I saw a sudden flash of movement at my door. It was cracked open, and I could see half of a blonde-haired head peeking in at me.

My own mother was watching me masturbate!

The thrill that took hold of me really was something, like panic mixed with excitement, and poured into a steaming hot cup of horny. I pretended not to see her and kept going, my heart pumping in time with my fist on my rigid cock.

What else could I do? She could already see everything. Might as well show her the rest of it.

The dark blonde shape at my door started to back away. Mom must have realized what she was looking at and was turning to flee like any sane mother would. Except she didn't actually leave. Maybe she was too horrified to move, but maybe she was intrigued by the sight of me. God, how I hoped she was.

I may be modest, but I know what I look like. There's no way she wasn't at least a little turned on by my lean, strong body and the way my rough hands were stroking my impossibly erect penis. I may not be huge like a porn star, but I'm certainly not average, and my surging blood made my cock look as big as possible.

Regardless of how I looked, I couldn't miss my chance. More than anything I'd ever wanted in my life, I realized I wanted my own mother to watch me cum. I wanted her eyes to catch every splattering rope of the massive load I was about to shoot all over myself.

I wanted to put on a show for her, and the main event was about to arrive.

"Ohh, fuck," I groaned, urgent and loud enough to get her attention. She'd know what was about to happen. Her face fully returned to the door as she took in the view. "Unnnngh!" Then, I was orgasming in full view of my own mother.

Cum blasted out of my dick under immense pressure, streaking my chest and flying so fast that the first spurt was just a white blur hitting my pillow beside me. More and more shot out of me as I pumped burning hot cum out of my cock, my balls and ass squeezing to add even more power to the firehose of semen. The thick ropes felt heavy and warm as they fell on my stomach and chest.

"Ohhh, fuck," I moaned again, this time lower and more gravelly. Try as I might, I couldn't keep cumming forever, the spurts of semen growing weaker until my orgasm was just an ooze running down my hand and the base of my cock. The show was over.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and finally dared myself to look directly at my door. Mom was gone, but I hoped she'd seen the best of it. Then the post-orgasmic clarity hit me.

"What just happened?" I whispered to myself. "Holy fuck, did I just do that?" I most certainly had; the evidence was all over me and dripping down onto my sheets.

Cleanup took longer than usual. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd just done. What I'd been able to do. Who knew that cumming in front of your mother would be such a thrill? Being able to share my lust with her like that was such a powerfully erotic concept. I just hoped that it hadn't permanently changed things between us.

My subconscious weighed the possibilities, and some of them were heavy.

My first instinct was that she'd have no right to be upset. For all she knew, I hadn't seen her watching me. And what did she expect? This is my place, after all; believe it or not, I jerk off here.

But I'd been so quick to make the decision. The moment I knew she was watching, it was like I was her little boy again and I was just dying to show her the new trick I'd learned. Look, Mommy! Look how much I can cum!

Then again, she was the one who opened my door. She was the one who stayed. Kind of hard to blame me for anything after that point.

My brain finally allowed me to sleep, putting my horny mind at some kind of ease. I woke up the next day and decided to pretend like nothing ever happened.

Pretend as I might, however, my hands felt tingly and shaky. Even worse, my cock just wouldn't rest as my mind replayed the events of last night over and over again. Finally, I worked up the courage to leave my room and head into the rest of the apartment.

The kitchen was just a sink, a stove, and a fridge in a very small space. It was also completely open to the living room, with only a small counter jutting out from the wall to separate the two areas. I tossed out a casual "good morning" as I passed the couch and tried my best to act casual.

"Good morning, honey," came my mother's reply, her tone unreadable. Daring to look over at her, I saw that her hair was a mess. She didn't look like she slept very well.

"Sleep okay?" I asked, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice.

"Not really," she replied, rubbing her eyes.

"Want some coffee?" I turned around so that I could busy my hands with something, anything. They were vibrating more than I'd like to admit.

"Honey, we need to talk about last night."

I froze, bracing myself for the worst. God, what had I been thinking?

There's no way she was going to stay here, now. I'd gotten hot and bothered over my own mother, jerking off in front of her before she'd even slept a single night on my couch. Man, I had really fucked this up.

"Okay," I said, slowly turning to her. Time to face the music.

"I'm really sorry about barging in on you like that, honey. I shouldn't have done that."

I felt like my heart started beating again. She didn't seem upset with me; in fact, she was apologizing. I was right after all. I opened a cupboard and took out a bag of granola. "Barging in? What do you mean?"

"I saw you last night. While you were... touching yourself."

"Oh yeah, right," I said, as if I was just remembering it now. Like I'd forgotten all about blowing the biggest load of my life in front of my own loving mother.

"This is your place, and I need to remember that. I need to give you your... privacy."

"Sure, Mom. But you know," I said, feeling more than a little relieved, "don't even worry about it. I mean, it's not like you've never seen me naked before. And besides," I quipped, popping a cluster of oats in my mouth and talking around it. "It's just masturbation. Everyone does that."

Mom looked away from me suddenly, as if there was something she was self-conscious about. "Well, not everyone," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling emboldened by this frankly sexual conversation with my mother. After all, she'd just watched me shoot cum all over myself. What more barriers could possibly exist between us? "Mom, are you actually telling me that you don't masturbate?"

"No, Liam. I don't." Her hands were folded in her lap, her body language tight and closed.

I took a sip from the glass of water in my hand, the coffee temporarily forgotten. "Never? Not even once?"

She cast her guilty eyes from one end of the couch to the other. I could tell that it had been at least once. "No. At least, not very often. And not since I met your father."

My eyebrows went up. "He was that good, huh?" The idea of my mother waking up one day next to my father and deciding that she never needed to touch herself again sounded very... unlikely.

A pained but good-humoured look directly at me, the first real eye contact she'd given me all morning, told me that my father was not, in fact, that good. "No, it's just... Liam, can we talk about something else?"

"You really should, though."

"Yes, I'll change the subject. I'm sorry I brought it--"

"No, Mom. You really should masturbate. And why not?" I was starting to enjoy this conversation, and my cock was, too. I kept my bulge hidden behind the small counter. "You are single again, after all. To be perfectly honest, I assumed you'd be doing it right here in the living room."

"Liam, please! You can't be serious."

I threw my hands up theatrically. "Where else would you do it? And I am serious. If you're staying here with me, as an independent woman, then you're gonna have to take care of your needs." I left off the obvious because I can't do it for you. Oh, how much I wanted to do it for her.

Mom's face turned all shades of red, and she went quiet. I took my cue to drop the subject and finally started making coffee, letting her off the hook for the time being. We talked about other things as the coffeemaker bubbled and brewed, somehow managing to approximate our normal dynamic after everything that had happened the night before.

I had to work a half-day that day. This would normally have annoyed the shit out of me, but to tell you the truth, I was glad to get out of there and give Mom some time to think. And maybe, just maybe, give her some time to take care of herself.

When I got home, I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing. And smelling.

Mom had gone grocery shopping and was making dinner. My apartment had never smelled so good, with bubbling pots on the stove and fresh ingredients on the counter. The rumbling in my stomach was suddenly the only thing I could think about.

Mom bustled about and hummed to herself, as perky and bubbly as I'd ever seen her. She was in a terrific mood. It was like a switch had been flipped. "Hey sweetie!" she called to me as I entered.

A delicious thought occurred to me. She must have made herself cum while I was at work. It was the only explanation.

As we chatted about our days and I watched her cook, I couldn't stop imagining her on the couch with her hands in her cunt like a horny teenager. With the place all to herself, she must have cried out in passion as she came, her pussy leaking all over the couch. I bet it was some relief to finally get that out of her.

When we finally sat down to watch another movie that night, I couldn't help but notice how much my couch now smelled like my mother. And of course it did; she had slept on it the night before. Whether the scent of her pussy was mixed in there, I couldn't tell. But it had to be.

"Oh, I don't like him," Mom said, her feet up on the coffee table. She was making herself at home. It made me feel proud that I could provide her with one after she'd given me so much. "He looks like trouble."

The man in question was indeed trouble. Tonight's movie was a crime drama. I picked it because it looked exciting, but what I didn't know was that there was actually a lot of romance mixed in. Unlike the comedy we'd watched last night, the sex scenes in this film were intense, passionate, and had plenty of explicit nudity.

To my surprise, Mom cut the tension with a joke. "Whew, I might have to take your advice later tonight," she said, fanning herself with her hand in an exaggerated manner. "To, uhh, you know..."

I burst out laughing. "Sure, whatever you need to do, Mom. After all, this is your place now, too."

"I should probably wait until you're in bed, though," she added, continuing the joke.

It was all I could do not to beg her to start touching herself right then and there. God, I was so turned on. She must have been able to feel it. My pheromones were coming off me like steam, and my pants were clearly tented. But I couldn't go that far. Not yet.

"Probably, yeah," I eventually said, my voice thick with the forbidden lust I was feeling. Her attention turned back to the television, and I could tell by the pursing of her lips that she was embarrassed about the masturbation joke. I decided not push it any further.

Finally, the man who looked like trouble got what was coming to him, and the two leads were free to be together and fuck each other silly. Off camera, of course, because the credits were now rolling.

"Well, that was predictable," Mom said, sounding disappointed. "I told you, I knew who the bad guy was right away."

"You called it, Mom," I laughed. "They really should run these movies past you before they release them. You know, as quality control."

"Do you think they'd pay me to do that?"

"I know I would. But I'm not some fancy Hollywood executive."

"No, you're better than that," she said, putting her hand on my thigh. My erection had finally subsided, but now it threatened to surge anew. If I was going to get up off this couch, then it was now or never. I chose now.

"Thanks, Mom. Good night," I said, kissing the top of my mother's head. It wasn't something I usually did, but it felt appropriate here. She gazed up at me and looked like she didn't want me to leave.

"Goodnight, honey. And Liam," she called after me. "Thanks again, honey. I know I said it last night, too, but thanks. For everything."

"Anytime, Mom." You could have cut that tension with a knife.

Now, I may have talked a big game about wanting to have sex with my own mother, but actually pursuing it is easier said than done. Regardless of any signals she might have been sending, the only logical thing I could do was head back to my room and beat my dick like it owed me rent money.

However, there was one other thing I could do: leave the door open.

I didn't need a video to jerk off to this time. Swirling images of my mother's body in various states of undressed ecstasy filled my mind. Her ass, her tits, and the way her mouth would feel around my cock. I knew she had to be feeling the same thing. The air was heavy with it.

Just as I was really starting to get into it, my dick even harder than it had been last night, something stopped me dead. A tiny, urgent sound from the living room, floating through the hallway and gently worming its way into my ear. It was a soft, delicate moaning.

It was the sound of my mother masturbating on the couch.

I strained my ears to listen, desperate to make sure that I was hearing what I thought was hearing. As I did, I swore that I could smell her sex all the way from my bed. I'd caught a hint of it earlier, but now it filled my senses. It didn't seem possible.

For a few seconds, I didn't know what to do. My eyes flitted between my open door and my rigid manhood, a clear droplet of precum oozing from the tip. Then, completely naked, I padded quietly to my open door and crept into the hallway.

What the hell, right? After all, I owed her one. The head of my dick pointed directly at the ceiling. A single lamp was on, casting the room in a dingy glow.

Now it was my turn to peek around the corner.

Mom was on the couch, naked as the day she was born. As naked as I had been when she watched me last night. Her legs were spread wide, and I could see between them, the dark pink gash between her legs fringed with blonde hair.

Mom's pussy was beautiful, and it was wet. Her fingers were all over it.

She saw me peeking around the corner, but she didn't slow down. In fact, she started going even faster. The two dominant fingers of her right hand turned playful circles on her clit, making squishy wet sounds as she worked her pussy mound.

Just like I had done for her, Mom was putting on a show for me.

Her entire body writhed as she touched herself, arching her back and grinding her ass into the couch. She moaned again, the kind of sound you make when you know you're being watched. It was hard to see her eyes, but she must have seen the hunger in mine.

"Ooooh, yes," she moaned, her free hand moving up her body and massaging one of those perky tits. The dim lighting made her body look smoother and younger than it was, though Mom didn't really need much help in that department. I was starting to think that maybe my father just wasn't into women anymore. It was the only explanation for why he'd ever give up this beauty.

I brought the rest of my body out from around the corner, just enough so that Mom could see my cock. I wanted her to see how turned on she'd made me, and I hoped it would do the same for her. Not wanting to upstage my mother, I kept my hands off my cock. For now.

Mom continued pleasuring herself, making it look positively luxurious. I could see the waves of ecstasy rolling over her, from the twisting of her body to the pendulum-like movement of her legs, feet planted on the couch and knees in the air. It was quite the view, and I was loving every second of it.

Her whimpers took on deeper notes, and I knew she was getting close. I wanted her to cum for me more than anything, even more than I'd wanted to do it for her. When she did, it was all I could do not to shoot my spunk all over the floor right then and there.

"Oohhh, fuck," she gasped. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming..." It was barely more than a whisper; I saw the words on her lips more than I heard them.

I watched my mother orgasm on my couch, her spine arching like she was being electrocuted as her bare ass pressed against the fabric of the couch, soaking it with sweat. Her grip on her right breast was so tight that I thought she was going to tear it off her chest.

Finally spent, Mom collapsed into herself and lay still. The only visible movement was the rising and falling of her bosoms as she tried to pull the pieces of herself from the wreckage of her orgasm.

The show was over. It was all I could do not to run over to her, cock in hand, and start doing... something. Anything.

Not yet.

I needed to play this cool. We were clearly operating on some kind of sexual back-and-forth, so now the ball was in my court. Erect, dripping, and ready to go, it was my turn to put on a show. It just so happened that the stage I was going to perform on was the only real bed in the apartment.

I didn't just leave the door open; I opened it all the way. If we were going to do this, then it was going to be in my room, under my rules. If Mom wanted to play, then all she needed to do was show up. If she didn't, then we'd pick it up again tomorrow night.

But she did show up.

Mom's head poked around the corner, followed shortly by the rest of her. Unlike in the living room, the light in the bedroom was clear and bright. We watched each other get a good look at each other, and God, she looked fucking incredible.

Her naked breasts are forever burned in my memory. The way her hips swayed as she walked in my room, lazily heading in no specific direction, acting casual. I could see her pussy clearly now and how tastefully trimmed the dirty blonde fringe was. The rest of her vagina was a sopping wet mess, and I wanted in.

I stroked my dick, but only slowly. Getting myself off wasn't the goal anymore.

"Oh yes, I played with myself while you were at work," Mom murmured, talking to no one in particular. "But I didn't do it on the couch." She wandered closer to the bed. The rigid shape of my throbbing cock was overlaid on the image of her naked body. "I did it lying in your bed, right where you are now."

I let her keep talking. I know better than to interrupt my mother. "I could feel your dried cum on the sheets underneath me. God, Liam, it made me so wet to watch you." The last sentence came out as a harsh whisper.

Her knees were on the bed now, and she continued. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. It wasn't the first time, either." Here I was thinking that we'd be playing my game, but she had me completely at her mercy. "Even though it seemed wrong, I don't care about that now. I don't know why it doesn't matter to me anymore, but it doesn't."

Neither did I. She was almost straddling me now; I forgot to breathe, her naked form the only thing I could focus on. My hand was still. I was too entranced by my mother to continue touching myself.

"I'm so glad I can stay here with you, Liam. It really does mean the world to me." I could feel the aura of her thighs on my legs. It felt like I could reach her dripping wet sex with my cock if I flexed it hard enough. She was almost right over top of me.

My throat was dry. I had to clear it to speak. "You're so fucking hot," was all I could muster. Then, with more feeling: "You're so beautiful, Mom. I've fantasized about you for years. God, how I've longed to tell you that."

Mom's mouth curled upwards, her tongue pushing underneath her lower lip. She looked down and parted the folds of her pussy with her fingers, showing me her swollen hood of her clitoris. She looked at me. "What do you find sexy about me, Liam?" Her smile promised a lot of things.

"Your body. Your everything. Your breasts, the way they feel against me. The way your ass looks in jeans. The way it looks without them. I've made myself cum for years thinking about your body."

My hand was back on my dick and holding it just an inch away from her womanhood. If I wanted to, I could touch her clit with it. So I did.

My cockhead smacked against her, getting its first taste of her wet pussy like a bright red lipstick kiss. She jumped, but not away. "I love your hair," I continued, smacking her clit again. "I love the way you smell." Again. "I love watching you touch yourself, and I fucking love watching you cum." With that, I mashed my purple head against her clit, grinding hard with my thumb.

"Oh, Liam," Mom moaned, her hands moving on her body like a dancer. "I dreamed about doing this before... I left... before he--"

"Don't say his name," my voice was rough. "Tell me what you want."

"You," she murmured, and then it all happened so fast.

Her hips were in my hands, so I used them, pulling her onto me. My cock slid down her slit and plunged into the all-encompassing embrace of her pussy, the sudden penetration making both of us cry out in a shock of ecstasy.

"Unnngh!" I grunted, gripping her ass hard while I forced her down and fucked her upwards. This wasn't foreplay or a slow, seductive dance anymore. I was fucking my mother's pussy as hard and as fast as I could.

"Liam!" she cried. "Oh, Liam, fuck me!" Mom didn't need to do anything but brace herself and enjoy the ride as every inch of my cock slammed in and out of her in a blur. Her voice vibrated with the impacts, and her tits shook. I let go of her ass and grabbed them. I couldn't help myself.

With her hips now free to move, Mom took over and rode my dick as I explored the soft fullness of her bosoms and the hard nubs of her nipples. I grabbed one and squeezed, twisting.

While my hands explored her naked body, Mom's fingers worked her needy clit. Her breathing hitched and she started whimpering. I couldn't believe what was happening; my own mother was going to cum on my cock.

"Oh, Liam!" she cried again. The heel of her other hand slammed onto my chest as she braced herself.

"Fucking cum for me, Mom," I growled. "I want to see you cum for me." And cum she did, collapsing into my arms and falling on top of me in a shaking heap, our sweaty heat mingling as we pressed together. I kissed her hard, mouths open, tongues intertwining; it was like we were meeting for the first time.

Then I flipped my mother over on her back and fucked her brains out.

"God, Liam, you're so--" she gasped. "So deep inside me. I never knew what it would feel like to have you like this. It feels so... fucking good."

Now on top of her, I parked my face beside hers, our breath intermingling as our bodies pressed together. "When did you first know you wanted me?" I asked her. "When did you decide--mmmph--that you wanted to fuck your own son?"

Mom's fingernails dug into my back. I wanted them to tear me open, willing to accept any level of pain to keep from cumming too quickly. "Oh, Liam, it was when you left," she moaned. "When I didn't have you around me any more, I realized how badly I'd wanted you. Mmmm, how much I wanted you to make me feel good. To feel like a woman."

This fever dream of incestuous fucking was going to make me burst. I wouldn't have it. Not yet.

Mom was getting close again, too; my God, she can cum quickly. The breadth of pleasure this woman is capable of experiencing is truly breathtaking, and I'm the only person to give it to her.

"You know, Mom," I panted. "I'm beginning to think you weren't being entirely truthful about the whole not masturbating thing." I was braced and fucking hard into her, her pussy gripping my cock like a wet glove. "Because there's no way the woman I'm fucking right now would ever deny herself pleasure." I tried to think about anything other than blowing my load inside her.

"Oh, am I that transparent?" she trilled breathlessly. "Normally, a mother has to hide her depravity from her son."

"Well, I don't intend for you to ever need to make yourself cum again." With that, I pulled out of her, my cock almost careening over the brink. Almost. Holding my spunk back through sheer willpower, I slid down the bed and put my mouth onto my mother's pussy. Her cries of pleasure filled my ears.

Suckling her clit like I could drink from it, I grabbed Mom's ass and pressed her hard against my mouth. She squealed with delight, arching her back against an onslaught of my tongue. She looked just like she did when she came all over my couch.

Probably because she was cumming all over my mouth.

"Oooh, Liam, fuck!" she screamed, the sound blaring in my ears. I hoped my neighbours couldn't hear us, or else we were going to have some awkward introductions in the coming weeks. I released her, watching my handiwork with pride. It's not every day you lick and suck your mother's cunt until she cums like, well... like no one else. I've never seen anyone else cum like Mom.

My poor cock ached from being laid upon and pressed into the bed as I ate my mother out. Now it sprang free as I moved up the bed, and Mom reached out to grasp it. Pulling herself to me by the base of my dick, she took me into her mouth and sent me straight to heaven.

"Mmmm, suck my fucking cock, Mom," I gasped. "God, you're fucking sexy." She looked up at me as she blew me, running her lips up the front of my throbbing dick and giving it tiny licks that sent shivers down my spine.

None of the girls I'd fucked up to this point in my life even came close to this. My mother was fucking incredible. I got lost in the tangles of her hair and the creamy skin of her bare shoulders as she sucked me. The room was completely silent save for the small wet sounds of her mouth and our breathing.

"I need you inside me again," she urged, letting go of my dick and lying on her back. I slowly climbed on top of her, savouring the moment. If I was fucking my mother before, what came next was going to be more like making love.

We kept eye contact as I pushed down against the slickness of her pussy, tracing the line downwards before penetrating her fully in a single thrust.

"Liam," she repeated, lovingly stroking the side of my face as I moved within her. Her head pushed up against the pillow with each deep, gentle push. Slowly, steadily, and with building rhythm, I became less and less gentle.

"Liam!" she cried. It was so intense; our passions balanced together on the edge of a knife. My cock, my entire body, felt like a prayer about to be answered. She could sense it.

"Cum inside me, please," Mom begged. "Please, baby, do it now. I need it!"

I felt us melting together, melting up. The wave hit me, rushing me over the waterfall and past the point of no return. "Mom!" was all I could say, like I was calling out to her. I released my cum and flooded her insides, her jagged cries telling me that she was doing the same.

Cumming in my mother felt like becoming a part of her. It marked the culmination of our tryst and a sign that everything would be different from now on, like we'd carved our names onto something foundational with the power of our raw desire. Each pulse of my seed changed me somehow.

Up until that point I hadn't known what sex really was. I did now.

We held each other and caught our breath between kisses. I didn't really see Mom anymore, not like I used to. I remembered her name.

"Claire," I whispered into her ear. The rest of my room was quiet except for our hearts.

"Yes, Liam?" she asked.

"You can sleep in here now."

THE END