“Well,” Mom said, letting her suitcase fall to the floor. “The hotel fucked up.”
I felt my eyebrows pop up. My mom tries her best not to curse around me, at least not the bad ones. She was only sixteen when she had me, and I think she felt the need to act as mature as possible to make up for it. If she was dropping f-bombs, she was really pissed.
We were somewhere in Iowa, in what you’d call corn country, halfway through an epic road trip to bring me and all my stuff to college in California. The tiny motel where we’d stopped for the night was surrounded on three sides by massive cornfields, like they’d just cut out a rectangle in some farmer’s field and dropped a shitty hotel down in it. Mom was right, though. The front desk told us this was a two-person room.
But there was only one bed.
I looked at Mom, standing there with her hands on her hips in that pose she does when she’s mad. A second later I had to look away—I was having bad thoughts again.
My friends always teased me about how hot Mom is. It started in fifth grade and hadn’t stopped all through high school. Actually, I was glad to be going to college on the other side of the country. Maybe my new friends wouldn’t constantly tell me how bad they wanted to fuck my mom.
At first it pissed me off. Then for years I just ignored it. The problem now was… I was starting to agree with them.
For one thing, I’ve always had a thing for redheads. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence or it came from growing up around my mom. But she’s a classic Irish ginger: skin so pale it looks like printer paper, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and long, wavy red hair down to her shoulders.
Having me hadn’t messed up her figure, either. In fact she barely looked thirty-four, let alone like the mother of a soon-to-be college student. It was hot and we’d been driving all day, so Mom had dressed for comfort, in a thin white T-shirt and jean shorts. I’d caught the concierge, a blonde midwestern girl about my age, checking her out while she checked us in.
And I couldn’t blame her—there was a lot to see. Mom’s little denim shorts had hitched up her thighs while she drove, so now they barely came to the bottom of her ass and left her long, white legs fully exposed. They hugged the curve of her ass tightly, showing off how round and firm it was, but I was most interested in the front view: the denim was hitched up so high into her crotch it was like a pair of panties, covering her pubic area but nothing else. Every time I looked, I thought that if she’d just shift to the right angle I would peek straight into the shorts and get a glimpse of her shaved pussy.
It had to be shaved, because if she had any pubic hair at all, I would’ve seen it.
And then there were her tits, the thing that really drove my high-school friends nuts. They weren’t huge, exactly, though they were at least a C cup. But you could just tell they were perfectly shaped, full and firm despite having breastfed me when I was a baby. She was wearing a bra today, I could see the lacy pattern through the thin fabric of her T-shirt, but her boobs were perky enough that she often didn’t bother with one. I’d long since learned that the fabric of her shirt rubbing on her nipples had a way of making them hard without her knowing.
The thought that when I was little, I got to suck all I wanted on those perfect tits with their firm nipples, had recently gotten stuck in my head. In the last couple months I had jerked off probably a dozen times to that fantasy. I had even started hunting down incest porn…
“Justin, are you listening?” she said. She was staring at me with her eyebrows raised, and I knew that expression. She’d already said my name a few times.
“Oh, sorry, Mom!” I said. “Just tired from the drive, I guess.”
“We both are, kiddo.” Mom sighed. “I was just saying I’ll sleep on the floor and you can have the bed tonight.”
“What? No way!” I said. “You did most of the driving, your back must be killing you. Besides, you’re like a million years old. I’m not making you sleep on the floor.”
Mom laughed. I always tease her about being old, because she really isn’t. “I’m not some fragile old lady! I’m only sixteen years older than you, J. Besides, you’ll be off at college in a few days and I’m gonna miss the hell out of you. I don’t want your last memory of your loving mother to be her making you sleep on the floor.”
“Well I won’t let you do it, either,” I said. I’m pretty protective of my mom, always have been. My dad wasn’t around (no surprise considering he was also sixteen when I was born) so I’ve always been the man of the house. Just Mom and me against the world. “We’ll just share the bed. It’s big enough, anyway.”
Mom sighed and looked at the bed. It was a full—not a proper queen or king where we could really spread out, but technically made for two people.
“Fine, you win,” she said. “I’m too tired to argue. I never knew there was so much damn corn in the whole world.”
Fifteen minutes later I lay on the bed reading a book. Mom had just stepped into the bathroom to take a shower—“wash the road dirt away,” as she put it—and I was happy to be lying down. It was only eight o’clock, but spending a whole day driving had wiped me out. I knew Mom felt the same.
I heard the shower come on, then the sounds of shuffling as Mom stripped off her rumpled, sweaty clothing. There was a long pause, then, “Dammit! Justin, can you come here?”
Adrenaline lit up my veins like I’d just missed a step on a staircase. Mom needed me to join her in the bathroom? Where she was probably half-dressed at best? What could she want?
I shook the thoughts away and climbed off the bed. She was my mom, not some hot classmate or porn actress. Thinking about her that way was fucked up, and I knew it.
I just couldn’t stop doing it.
“Justin, I need you!” Mom called.
I crossed the room and put my hand on the bathroom doorknob—then stopped short. Somewhere between the bed and here, my dick had gotten hard as a rock. I could feel it pressing against my jeans, tingling with every movement as it rubbed against the fabric. It was a powerful reminder that I hadn’t jerked off in days—I’d been sharing rooms with my mother, after all.
“Just a sec!” I said. I jammed a hand down my pants and pushed my dick more or less back into place, willing it to go down with all my mental energy. Instead, the feeling of my hand just made it harder. If only it were Mom’s hand, or her mouth, or…
The door opened right in front of my face. I yanked my hand out of my pants, but Mom must have seen. There was no way she hadn’t. She had a towel around her waist, and I could see her jean shorts and panties lying crumpled on the white tiles of the bathroom floor, which meant she was totally nude from the waist down. Her T-shirt was still on, but the steam from the running shower had dampened it, making it cling to the lace of her bra and the tops of her breasts. I could see everything in perfect outline.
Somehow, my dick got even harder, pressing painfully against my jeans.
What the hell did Mom think I was doing out here? I braced myself for her Irish temper.
But she just smiled. “There you are, J. I need a hand.” She turned and lifted the back of her T-shirt slightly. “Can you get my bra off? This cheap old thing won’t unhook for me. I know you know how to do it.”
That was Mom teasing me back. Earlier that year she’d caught me hooking up with a girl in my class. Well, she hadn’t caught us in the act—rather, she’d found my girlfriend’s bra under my bed, where she left it in her hurry to escape out the window.
“Uh, sure,” I said. The skin of her back was almost as white as her T-shirt, and as I reached tentatively in to find her bra strap, I felt how soft and smooth it was. My dick leapt in my pants, and I realized suddenly how close Mom was to me. With her back to me, her perfect round ass was less than an inch from my crotch. All I had to do was shift forward and my dick would be pressed against her.
I shook the thoughts away like I had before. No. I was just a kid helping out his mom.
My searching hands found her bra strap and I popped the clasp open. Mom sighed in relief, and I felt the weight of her body shift forward as her tits were released. They must be heavy, to unbalance her so much when she let them loose. My dick was screaming with pleasure now—it was rubbing so hard against my jeans I thought I might cum right there if this kept up. I looked down, hoping I could tuck it away without Mom noticing…
And realized the sensation I was feeling was her ass pressed against me.
She’d shifted her body weight, all right. Her top was tilted forward as she pulled her bra out from under her T-shirt, but that meant her hips were cocked back, and that was enough to close the gap between us.
We stood frozen like that for a moment. I knew it was wrong, but I had no idea what to say. More than that, I didn’t want the moment to end.
Mom straightened up. Slowly. So slowly her ass dragged up the shaft of my dick, and I really did think I was going to cum for a second. Then she stepped away, tossing her bra onto her pile of dirty clothes, and shut the bathroom door.
Mom likes long showers. Growing up in a house with only one bathroom it was annoying, but now I thanked God for it, because I finally had a chance to jerk off.
I could hear Mom singing softly to herself in the shower. She has a great voice—she wanted to be a singer, before she had me, and I still encouraged her whenever I caught her singing. But right now that wasn’t my priority. I stripped off my boxers and jeans and slid under the covers of the room’s only bed. My dick was still rock hard, and it made a tent out of the bedsheets. I gripped it with one hand. It felt like it would explode if I gave it even a single stroke.
I hesitated. I really wanted to find some porn to watch—incest fantasy, my brain commanded—but I wasn’t sure I had time to get something queued up before Mom was done in the shower. I paused, listening to her singing. No, she would be a while.
I grabbed my laptop from my bag, opened up Firefox, and typed the PornHub URL into the browser bar.
Shit! That was right—we were in a tiny motel in the middle of nowhere. No wifi.
I slammed my laptop shut and dropped it on the floor. There was a TV on the nightstand across from the bed, an old boxy one, not a flatscreen. I grabbed the chunky remote and turned it on. If there was one thing I knew about shitty hotels…
The Pay-Per-View screen sprang up on the TV. I scrolled through the movie offerings, mostly old classics and stuff to get kids to shut up. Come on, come on… yes! There at the bottom of the list was Big Tit Milfs 3. Perfect.
I clicked it and waited for the movie to load up. It sounds crazy, ordering porno on my mom’s card, but I knew I’d be safe. I had a plan: jerk off as fast as possible, turn the movie off, then pretend to be asleep. Tomorrow I could tell Mom I’d ordered something else on the list, then gotten too tired to watch. It wasn’t like they put the titles of your movie choices on the bill.
The TV gave a staticky click and Big Tit Milfs popped onto the screen. The title of the movie flashed in big pink lettering over a background of a dude’s mouth licking and sucking the nipple of a huge, pale breast. My dick twitched in my hand, and I felt a little dribble of pre-cum slip out of the tip. This was exactly what I wanted.
No, not exactly.
I wanted my mother.
I would just have to use my imagination. As the movie started and a forty-something actress with big white tits spilling out of her blouse rang the doorbell of a nice suburban house, I licked my hand, grabbed my dick, and thought of Mom.
The bathroom door opened.
“Hey, J, I was just—” She froze, staring wide-eyed at me with my huge erection tent, then at the busty milf on the TV screen, then back to me. “Justin, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Mom!” I let go of my dick and scrabbled for the TV remote. Instead of grabbing it, I knocked it off the bed. I dove for it, so flustered I forgot I wasn’t wearing any pants.
The bedsheets fell away, revealing my pulsing, diamond-hard erection. There was no time to think about that now, I had to turn the TV off, I had to get the remote, I couldn’t let Mom see me watching porn…
Yes! I had the remote in my hand. I stabbed the OFF button.
I hit it again. And again. On the TV screen, the big-titted milf had pulled some lucky guy’s pants down and was wrapping her lips around his dick. I started trying other buttons on the remote: CHANNEL UP, CHANNEL DOWN, MUTE. Nothing. The shitty old hotel TV wouldn’t turn off and it wouldn’t leave this movie, where the milf had stripped off her blouse and had a hand down her shorts, moaning as she played with her pussy.
I felt a weight on the bed beside me, then a soft hand closed over mine.
“TV’s broken, huh?” said Mom. “Come on, pick yourself up off the floor.”
She took the remote from me. As I heaved myself back onto the bed—my dick, still hard as stone, quivered a little in the air—Mom sat trying the buttons. She had no better luck than I did.
“Mom, I—” I started.
“Don’t worry, J,” Mom said. On the TV, the actress was fully nude and ramming two fingers into her shaved pussy. “It’s only natural. You’re a teenage boy—sorry, you’re a man now—and you have needs. I get it. I know this is the first chance you’ve gotten to take care of yourself.” She set the remote on her bedside table, far from me. “Besides, this is pretty hot.”
My dick throbbed and let out a little more pre-cum. “What?” I choked out.
“Come on, I’m a human being too. She’s fucking hot.” Mom gestured at the TV. “Did you know almost all women are bisexual? They don’t have whatever it is in men’s brains that makes them straight or gay.” She looked at me, and I swear there was something wild burning in her green eyes. “Women can be attracted to anyone.”
“I—I didn’t know that,” I stammered. My dick was still out, stiff and straight, and I wanted so badly to grab it and start stroking. But I couldn’t do that in front of my own mother… could I?
“Here’s what I think,” Mom said. She was staring straight into my eyes, and her voice had gotten low and kind of husky, a tone I’d never heard before. “Since I’m paying for this movie, I might as well enjoy it. You should, too. I’ll stay on my side of the bed, you stay where you are, and we’ll get ourselves off. Then we can get some sleep. Okay?”
I gaped at her. “Mom, are you sure?”
“It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, Justin. We’re just two adults masturbating. Just focus on the movie, okay? It’ll be like I’m not even here.”
That didn’t seem too fucking likely. My dick felt like it was being pulled toward her, like my erection really was iron and Mom was a warm, soft magnet. I needed her. I needed to be inside her… I shut my eyes and tried to focus. Jerking off would fix this. It would relax me, calm the storm raging inside me. Not to mention I always felt a bit guilty about cumming to thoughts of my mom, after I’d finished. That was good. That was healthy. I couldn’t think about my own mother this way.
I put my hand on my dick. Pleasure shot down the shaft and up my spine like lightning. On the TV, the milf was on her back, legs spread, big, soft tits bouncing as the male actor pounded her. She was having an orgasm, shouting “Oh God! Oh God!” as her hands scrunched up the bedsheets. Sheets that looked just like the ones where Mom and I lay.
I dared a quick glance to my left. True to her word, Mom was fixated on the TV. Her mouth was moving silently, as though she was saying something too quietly for me to hear… and her hand was down the front of her panties. I watched it flex and release as she rubbed her slit in long, smooth motions. I could tell she was really pressing down.
Mom liked it hard.
I tore my eyes away and began rubbing my dick. It was slick with pre-cum and twitched powerfully with every stroke. I tried to focus on the movie. The milf was on her hands and knees now, her back arched and her pale ass in the air, her heavy tits hanging. She moaned in ecstasy as the actor slid his glistening wet dick slowly into her ass.
For a delirious second I thought our hotel room had surround sound. Then I realized Mom was moaning too.
I looked again. I had to. She had a hand up the front of her T-shirt now, gripping and squeezing one of her tits as her other hand rubbed her pussy. Her eyes were barely open, and fixed on the ceiling above us rather than the TV. I stroked my dick gently as I watched the hand in her panties dip and rise with a new rhythm. She wasn’t just rubbing—she was fingering herself. I could hear the faint wet sound of her middle finger slipping in and out. She had to be dripping down there.
“Justin,” she moaned.
I froze, my dick throbbing in my hand. Did she want me to say something?
“Justin…” she said again, a little louder.
“Mom,” I said.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, but her head rolled back as she began fingering herself harder. Her hand was jumping inside her panties now, and the sound of her palm slapping her thigh was audible even over the movie. She’d pushed her T-shirt all the way up, revealing tits as full and round as I’d always imagined. They were as pale and smooth as the rest of her, with little pink nipples sticking straight out, as hard as my dick. From her collarbones to the top of her shaved mound was a single long expanse of naked white flesh.
“Justin, we can’t,” she whispered. The hand inside her pussy slid out and she tore at her panties as though she couldn’t control herself. She yanked them down to her knees, then shoved two fingers right back inside and began pounding harder than ever. Her tits were bouncing and the bed was shaking beneath us. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she said, over and over. “Justin…”
I pulled my own T-shirt over my head—I’d never taken it off—and threw it on the floor. My dick was like a flagpole, sticking straight out as I squirmed across the bed, closing the space between me and her. Our legs touched. Her thigh was soft and perfectly smooth, even with the muscles tenses as her hips leapt under her pounding fingers.
“Mom,” I said hoarsely. “Let me help.”
The fingers slipped out of her pussy and she began clutching wildly at my arm. She still wasn’t looking at me. I realized she was trying to find my hand and put it under hers. She grabbed it, hard. Her hand was slick with her juices.
“Make me cum, Justin!” she said, and shoved my hand down onto her shaved pussy. I hooked my middle two fingers and slid them inside her. She was so wet my hand was soaked immediately as I began pounding her, feeling wetness splatter out of her, dampening the sheets.
The moment seemed simultaneously impossible and inevitable. It couldn’t be happening, and yet part of me knew it was always going to happen, like a prophecy, like fate, like destiny. I had wanted this so badly that it became real. This was my time to get everything I wanted.
I rolled onto my side, locked my mouth on one of my mother’s hard pink nipples, and sucked.
“Fuuuuuuck!” Mom screamed. Her back arched in a spasm so hard my fingers nearly slipped out of her pussy, but she slapped her free hand down on mine and forced it back in. “Fuck fuck fuck!” She was screaming right in my ear, but I didn’t care. I just kept sucking on her tit, finally doing what I now realized I had wanted to do so badly my entire life. Beneath me, she bucked and squirmed as a massive orgasm racked her body. I had thought she was wet before, but now she was gushing, drenching my hand with her cum.
She showed no signs of finishing her orgasm, so I kept pounding away with my fingers. She’d stopped screaming now and was digging the nails of one hand into the muscles of my back. I could hear her panting, short desperate breaths in a quick and steady rhythm: huh huh huh huh huh huh. One last massive spasm shook her body, then she grabbed my wrist and tore my hand out of her.
“Justin, we can’t!” she gasped. “I’m your mother!”
Her hand, dripping wet with her own cum, found my dick. My body shook at the touch—if I wasn’t careful I would jizz all over her belly. She gripped and tugged, and for a second I thought she was jerking me off. Then I realized she was pulling me towards her, using my dick like a leash.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, “your cock is huge.” Her legs were wide open, revealing her dripping pink pussy. Her other hand was still grabbing at her tits, pinching and tugging the nipples. She yanked on my dick and I went with her, rolling on top of her. The shaft of my dick pressed against her slit. All I had to do was angle my hips and I would slide inside her.
“Justin,” she said through a moan. “You can’t fuck me. I’m your mom. Please don’t fuck me… and if you do, don’t cum inside.”
I hooked my arm around her leg and levered it back, opening her pussy toward me, and slid my dick in.
“Holy fuck, Mom. You’re so tight.”
It was true—her pussy was all warmth and wetness and friction, closing on my dick with surprising strength and tugging me deeper until my hips pressed against hers and I could feel the head of my dick pushing against her cervix. I barely fit in that firm, tight hole. It was impossible to believe this woman had pushed out a baby—had pushed me out.
Mom shrieked with pleasure and wrapped her legs around me, shoving me so deep I could feel my cock bending. It was all I could do to hold on as she orgasmed around me, her pussy gripping and releasing my dick as it spasmed in ecstasy. If she kept it up I would have cum from that alone, but it passed, and instead of lying back and panting she dug her fingers into my back and pressed my chest to her full, firm tits.
“Fuck me, Justin! Fuck Mommy!”
I obeyed, not even bothering to start slow, just pounding her fast and deep and watching her tits bounce in rhythm with my cock. I’d guessed she liked it hard from how she worked her pussy, and I was right: she rewarded my hammering with wordless squeals, interrupted only by desperate panting for breath. But I didn’t stop or slow, even when I felt her shaking and bucking as she came on my cock again and again, until her juice ran down her thighs and we were both sticky with it. I was finally, finally doing what I had always wanted, fucking my long-legged, full-breasted, redheaded mother, making her scream with my cock like I had fantasized so many times, and there was no way I was stopping until I pumped her full of my cum.
Something about that thought made me pause. As far as I knew Mom was entirely fertile, and so was I. Was she on birth control? I had no idea—why would I?
But Mom sensed me slow down and slapped a hand on my ass, pushing down to shove me deeper inside her, telling me wordlessly that she wanted what I wanted. I wouldn’t stop until my cum was dripping from her pussy lips.
“Kiss me, Justin,” she gasped. “Kiss Mommy and fill me up.”
I pressed my mouth to hers, felt her tongue slide between my lips and entwine with mine. That was the last straw. All my pent-up sexual frustration after days without jerking off, all my desperate longing for my mother’s soft, curvy body, leapt up inside me and concentrated in the only place it could find release: my cock. Now it was my turn to spasm and shake, completely out of control as the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had racked my body and my dick throbbed, shooting load after load of hot cum deep inside my mother.
Just as the shocks were dying down I grabbed one big, soft breast and clamped my mouth on her nipple. The sensation of sucking my mother’s breast shot down my body to my dick, which let loose a few more massive pumps of cum as I rode my orgasm for a second round. Then it was over, and I let myself drop onto her, covering her sweaty chest with mine, feeling her pussy juice leak out around my throbbing cock.
Then I thought: shit. Shit shit shit. I just fucked my own mother. I came inside my mom. This was wrong. This was so fucked up. What if she regretted it, what if she hated me, what if she got pregnant, what if—
“Fuck, Justin,” she whispered. “You’re as incredible as I always dreamed.”
“You too,” I said. Just like that, all the guilt and fear was gone. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.”
She pushed me gently off her with one sticky hand. “I wish you had told me, J. God, I wish you had. We could have had so much time together. Now you’re going away. You’ll be on the other side of the country. Who’s going to fuck me like my son can?”
“There’s always vacation,” I said.
From my new vantage point I looked down at my dick, still mostly hard, parting her pussy lips and disappearing inside her. I looked at her full white breasts with their perky pink nipples, still standing at attention. I could feel new desire stirring in my crotch already, and when an aftershock made her pussy grip my cock, I blood rushed down there to make me hard again.
“Besides,” I added. “We’ve got all night.”
A few days later, Mom dropped me off at college right on schedule. We’d had plenty more sex, and a few other adventures, between Iowa and California. Now we had to say goodbye. It was a mob scene at my new dorm, full of disoriented kids hauling bags and boxes through the hallways, searching for their rooms. Out on the street, I was just one of a dozen sons hugging their mothers goodbye. But if anyone noticed how I grabbed Mom’s ass as we embraced, or the way she playfully bit my neck, or my hand brushing her nipple when we broke apart, they didn’t say anything.
And yeah, I got a few comments from my new dorm-mates about my hot mom. I just laughed them off. After all, all they could do was look. She was mine—all of her, from her long red hair to her slim pale legs, and the soft breasts and dripping pussy and everything else in between—and I would have her again, any time I wanted.