Mom caught Me Watching Mom-Son Porn

I sat at the kitchen table doing what I always did these days, staring out the window at my mother by the pool. She was stretched out on the lounge chair in a tiny red bikini that left almost nothing to the imagination. The top was little more than two triangles of thin fabric tied behind her neck and back, clinging to the soft curves of her tits. The bottoms were a thong, the string disappearing between the cheeks of her firm ass, the front panel barely covering the smooth mound of her pussy.

Mom was forty-three but looked ten years younger. Tall, slender, with long legs that stayed toned from her daily runs. Her stomach was flat and glistening with tanning oil. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands stuck to the sweat on her neck. Those full pink lips of hers were parted slightly as she dozed in the afternoon sun, and I could not stop thinking about what they would look like wrapped around my cock.

I was nineteen, home for the summer from college, and every day since I got back had been the same. Me sitting here with a textbook open in front of me, pretending to study while I watched her. My cock was already hard in my shorts, pressing against the fabric, the head leaking a steady drip of pre-cum that had soaked a dark spot through the cotton. I wanted to pull it out right there at the table and stroke it while I stared at her, but I was not that reckless. Not yet.

The fact that she was my mother only made it hotter. Forbidden fruit. I had jerked off to the thought of her every night since I was fifteen, and the fantasies had only gotten filthier. I pictured her on her knees in that bikini, pulling the top down so her small, perfect tits spilled free, the nipples hard and pink. I imagined sliding the thong to the side and burying my face between her thighs, tasting the cunt that had carried me for nine months. I wanted to fuck her until she came screaming my name, then fill her with so much cum it dripped down her legs.

Dad had left three years ago. The divorce was quiet, no big fights that I saw, just him packing a bag one weekend and never coming back. Mom never talked about it much. She just kept living her life, working from home as a freelance graphic designer, swimming, running, and looking hotter every year. She was affectionate with me in a way that drove me crazy. Long hugs that pressed her tits against my chest. Kisses on the cheek that lingered a second too long. Sitting next to me on the couch with her legs tucked under her, her thigh brushing mine while we watched movies. Sometimes she would complain her feet hurt and ask me to rub them. I would sit there with her soft soles in my lap, my cock throbbing, wondering what would happen if I slid my hand higher up her leg.

A soft ping from my phone pulled me out of the daydream. I glanced down. An email from one of the sites I used. LovingMothers.com. New video uploaded. “Mommy Catches Him Watching.” The thumbnail showed a blonde woman who looked a lot like Mom on her knees, lips stretched around a thick cock, eyes looking up at the camera.

My heart kicked harder. I needed to get upstairs. Now.

Mom stirred on the lounge chair. She sat up, arched her back, and stretched her arms over her head. The bikini top rode up, flashing the underside of her tits. Then she bent forward to grab her phone from the ground, and the thong disappeared completely between the cheeks of her ass. I made a low sound in my throat before I could stop myself.

She looked over her shoulder. Caught me staring. A slow smile curved her mouth.

“See something you like, Joey?”

I froze. “Just... checking the weather.”

She laughed, low and warm, and stood up. The robe she always kept by the pool was draped over the chair. She slipped it on but did not tie it. The front hung open, the red bikini still on full display, the curve of one breast visible, the line of her stomach, the thin strip of fabric covering her pussy.

She walked toward the sliding glass door, hips swaying. “I’m coming in. Need a shower. You want dinner early or later?”

“Later,” I said, voice rough. “Got some work to do upstairs.”

She paused in the doorway, looking at me. Her blue eyes flicked down to the obvious bulge in my shorts, then back up to my face. The smile stayed.

“Okay, baby. Don’t work too hard.”

She disappeared down the hallway. I waited until I heard her bedroom door close, then stood up carefully and headed for the stairs. My cock was so hard it ached. Every step made it rub against the fabric of my shorts. By the time I reached my room I was leaking steadily.

I locked the door out of habit even though it did not really lock, just stuck a little. Stripped off my shirt and shorts. My cock sprang free, thick and flushed, the head shiny with pre-cum. I sat at the desk, opened the laptop, and went straight to the site. The new video was already at the top. I clicked play and wrapped my hand around my shaft.

The plot was the usual thin excuse. Son catches mom watching porn. Mom catches him jacking off to it. Then they fuck. I skipped ahead to the good part. The actress was on her knees between the guy’s legs, stroking him, talking dirty about how she never knew her son had such a nice cock. She leaned in and licked the head, then took him deep.

I stroked in time with her mouth, eyes half-closed, picturing Mom instead. Same blonde hair. Same blue eyes. Same soft lips. I imagined her looking up at me the way the actress was looking at the camera, saying, “Mommy’s going to take care of this for you, baby.”

The door opened.

I jerked so hard the chair rolled back. Mom stood in the doorway wearing only the short white robe, still untied. Her hair was damp from the shower. She had nothing on underneath. The robe hung open enough that I could see the inner curves of her tits and the smooth, bare lips of her pussy.

She looked at the screen. Then at my cock, still in my hand. Then at my face.

“So this is the work you had to do,” she said quietly.

I could not speak. My heart was hammering so hard I felt it in my throat. I started to close the laptop but she stepped forward and put her hand on the screen, holding it open.

“Leave it.”

She walked closer until she stood right beside the chair. The robe brushed my arm. I could smell her body wash, something light and floral mixed with the clean scent of her skin. Her eyes stayed on the video. The actress was deep-throating now, gagging softly, saliva dripping down the shaft.

Mom’s voice was soft. “You like watching mothers suck their sons’ cocks, Joey?”

I swallowed. “I... yeah.”

She turned her head and looked at me. Her cheeks were pink. “Do you think about me when you watch them?”

The truth came out before I could stop it. “Every fucking time.”

Something shifted in her expression. Heat. Hunger. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around my cock, right over my hand. Her skin was warm and soft. She stroked once, slow, from base to tip, spreading the pre-cum with her thumb.

“You’re so hard,” she whispered. “Is this for me? Or for her?”

“You,” I said. “Always you.”

She smiled, small and wicked. “Good answer.”

She let go of my cock and shrugged the robe off her shoulders. It pooled at her feet. She stood naked in front of me, and for a second I could not breathe. Her tits were small and firm, the nipples tight pink peaks. Her stomach was flat. Her pussy was completely smooth except for a neat little landing strip of blonde hair above the cleft. The lips were already glistening.

“I’ve been watching too,” she said. “For a long time. Those same videos. Imagining it was us.”

She sank to her knees between my spread thighs. Her hands slid up my legs. She leaned in and kissed the head of my cock, soft and slow, then licked the drop of pre-cum that welled up.

“Fuck, Mom...”

“Shh.” She opened her mouth and took me in.

Hot. Wet. Soft. Her lips stretched around the thickness of me. She sank down until the head bumped the back of her throat, then pulled back with a wet sound. Her tongue swirled under the ridge. She looked up at me the whole time, blue eyes half-lidded, and I almost came right then.

She started bobbing, slow and deep, taking more of me each time. One hand wrapped around the base, stroking what her mouth could not reach. The other cupped my balls, rolling them gently. I could hear how wet she was already, the soft slick sound of her thighs shifting as she knelt there.

I put my hands in her hair, careful not to push. She moaned around my cock at the touch and sucked harder. Spit ran down my shaft and over her fingers. She pulled off with a soft pop and licked the length of me from balls to tip, then took me back in and started fucking her mouth on me in earnest.

“God, your cock tastes so good,” she murmured between strokes. “I’ve wanted this for years, baby. Wanted to feel my son’s dick stretching my throat.”

I groaned. “Mom... I’m gonna—”

“Not yet.” She pulled off and stood up. “Come here.”

She pushed the papers and books off my desk with one sweep of her arm. They scattered across the floor. Then she hopped up onto the edge, spread her legs wide, and leaned back on her hands.

“Taste me.”

I rolled the chair forward and buried my face between her thighs. Her pussy was soaked. The scent of her hit me hard, sweet and musky and pure sex. I licked a long stripe from her entrance up to her clit. She gasped and her hips jerked. I did it again, slower, spreading her open with my thumbs so I could see everything. Pink, glistening, the little hole twitching.

I sealed my mouth over her clit and sucked. She cried out, one hand flying to the back of my head. I licked and sucked and fucked her with my tongue while she ground against my face, smearing her juices all over my chin and cheeks. She tasted even better than I had imagined. I pushed two fingers inside her and felt how tight and hot she was. Her walls fluttered around them.

“Yes... just like that... eat Mommy’s cunt, baby...”

I kept going until her thighs started to shake. Then I curled my fingers and rubbed the spot that made her thighs clamp around my head. She came hard, a sharp cry that turned into a long moan, her pussy pulsing around my fingers, more wetness flooding my tongue. I licked her through it until she pushed my head away, panting.

“Fuck me,” she said. “Right now. I need your cock in me.”

I stood up. My cock was rock hard, shiny with her spit and my own pre-cum. I stepped between her legs, lined up, and pushed in.

She was so tight. So wet. The head popped past her entrance and I sank deeper, inch by inch, until my balls pressed against her ass. We both groaned. I stayed still for a second, just feeling her around me, hot and silky and perfect.

“You’re inside me,” she whispered. “My son’s cock is inside his mother’s pussy.”

I started to move. Slow at first, long strokes that dragged almost all the way out before sliding back in. She wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me deeper. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk. Every time I bottomed out she made a soft, broken sound.

“Harder,” she said. “Fuck me like you’ve always wanted to.”

I gave it to her. Hard, deep thrusts that made the desk creak. Her tits bounced with every slap of my hips against hers. I leaned down and sucked one nipple into my mouth, biting gently, and she arched up into me, moaning my name. The wet sound of our fucking filled the room. Her juices coated my cock and dripped down onto the desk.

I pulled out suddenly, flipped her over so she was bent over the desk, and slammed back in from behind. She cried out and pushed back to meet me. I gripped her hips and pounded her, watching my cock disappear into her pink cunt over and over. Her ass jiggled with every thrust. I spread her cheeks with my thumbs and watched the way her hole stretched around me.

“Look at you taking your son’s cock,” I growled. “Such a dirty fucking mommy.”

“Yes... talk to me like that... call me your slut...”

“My slut. My whore. My perfect little mother-cunt.”

She came again, hard, her pussy clamping down so tight I almost followed her. I held off, fucking her through it until she was whimpering and shaking. Then I pulled out, spun her around, and pushed her to her knees.

“Open.”

She opened her mouth. I fed her my cock, still shiny with her cream, and fucked her face. She took it, eyes watering, spit running down her chin. When I felt the orgasm building I pulled back and stroked myself, aiming at her tongue.

“I’m gonna cum,” I warned.

“In my mouth,” she said. “I want to taste my son’s cum.”

I came hard, thick ropes of it shooting across her tongue and lips. She swallowed what she could and let the rest drip down her chin onto her tits. When I was done she licked me clean, soft and thorough, until I was twitching from oversensitivity.

We stayed like that for a minute, breathing hard. Then she stood up, kissed me deep, and I tasted myself on her tongue mixed with her own juices.

“Bedroom,” she said. “We’re not done.”

We made it to her room. She pushed me onto the bed and climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. My cock was already hardening again. She reached down, guided me to her entrance, and sank down slowly until I was buried inside her again.

She rode me like she had been waiting years for it. Slow rolls of her hips at first, then faster, grinding her clit against me every time she bottomed out. I held her waist and thrust up to meet her. Her tits bounced. Her head fell back. She talked the whole time, filthy things about how good her son’s cock felt, how she was going to make me cum in her every day for the rest of the summer, how she wanted me to breed her, fill her up until it leaked out of her.

I flipped us over without pulling out and started fucking her hard again, missionary this time so I could watch her face. She came a third time with her legs locked around me, nails digging into my back. I followed her, burying myself deep and pumping another load into her cunt. I stayed inside her as we both caught our breath, feeling my cum start to leak out around my cock.

We did not stop. After a short rest I was hard again. She got on all fours and I took her from behind, one hand in her hair, the other reaching under to rub her clit. She came so hard her arms gave out and she collapsed onto the mattress, face down, ass still up, while I kept pounding her through it. When I came I pulled out and painted her back and ass with it, then rubbed it into her skin with my cock.

Later we showered together. I washed her body slowly, paying special attention to her tits and between her legs. She dropped to her knees under the spray and sucked me until I came down her throat again. Then I carried her back to the bed, still wet, and ate her pussy until she was shaking and begging me to stop.

By the time the sun went down we were both exhausted, sticky, and completely spent. She lay curled against my side, one leg thrown over mine, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she said quietly. “Every time I watched those videos I imagined it was you. My beautiful boy. Taking care of his mommy the way only a son can.”

I kissed the top of her head. “We’re going to do this every day. Every night. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”

She smiled against my skin. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

We fell asleep like that, my cock soft against her thigh, her hand resting over my heart. In the morning she woke me with her mouth, slow and wet and perfect, and we started all over again. The summer stretched out in front of us, long and hot and full of every filthy thing we had ever fantasized about. And we were going to do all of them.