It was the night of my mother’s 50th birthday.
The beer, wine and champagne flowed freely, the 80’s music was blasting, people were pissed and everyone was happy.
Everyone, that is, except my mum.
I was her only son and at 28 years of age, not yet married. I’d had lots of girlfriends, even got engaged once, but on this night, I was free and single – and horny as fuck.
The party was starting to wind down, particularly after the police arrived to say that the neighbours had been complaining about the noise.
As I wandered from the garden through the house looking for my mum, I passed one couple kissing passionately on the couch… the guy was holding her wrists above her head with his right hand, his left hand furiously fingering her wet cunt as she grinded her hips against his fingers. I wandered past the downstairs toilet to find one of the neighbours passed out on the toilet, her head leaning against the tiles… with her pants around her ankles.
After stumbling around downstairs, through the kitchen with bottles of wine upended all over the kitchen counter, the half-eaten birthday cake still sitting out with the icing rapidly turning to mush, I decided to look for my mum upstairs.
“Maybe she’s just gone to bed.” I thought.
As I climbed the stairs, the sound of someone crying became clearer.
I knew it was mum.
I tried to think myself sober but all I did was trip up the top step and crash to the ground. Giggling to myself, I got up and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Right to my mother’s bedroom door.
And there she was. Still beautiful after all these years. I tried not to notice her breasts heaving with every sob. I tried not to stare at her full made-for-sex lips. I tried not to think about nibbling her jaw bone, just under her ear. I tried… and failed… to stop thinking about kissing her throat and working my way down to her breasts. Breasts that used to suckle me.
Breasts that would suckle me again… tonight.
My cock was stiff and hard, pushing against my jeans. And that’s when my mum looked up and saw me. Saw me standing there, gazing at her.
“Andrew, baby. How long have you been there?” she whispered.
“Long enough mum. Long enough.”
Her lips parted slightly, as if she was about to say something, but thought better of it. Thought that she’d rather a man kiss her. Any man…
And that man was me.
At that moment, the moment I knew I was going to slide into my mother’s pussy and fuck her till we both came, I sobered up quicker than I ever have in my life.
I was going to fuck my mother. And I was going to love every minute of it. And so was she…
She took a shuddering breath and I stumbled toward her as if in a dream. But when I pushed her back against the bed and drank from her soft, full, lips, I knew it was no dream. This was real. And it was happening right now.
She moaned against my lips which made me kiss her harder. My hand, which was caressing her breast, moved slowly down to her navel where I played with her bellybutton. She gasped and dug her fingers into my hair. She kissed me and moaned. I stopped caressing her navel and moved my fingers down to her groin. I moved my hand under her skirt and put it onto her fat pubis bone. She gasped and stopped kissing me. She stared into my eyes and said “No, Andrew. We can’t. I’m your mother.”
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