Work Text:
It wasn’t like Renee Graves had a high body count. At thirty seven years old, she had only ever been with one man sexually: her husband, Douglas. Pregnant at fifteen and married in a courthouse at sixteen, her life hadn’t exactly been a fairy tale romance. And being with the same man for over twenty years had left things stale in the bedroom. Mechanical, emotionless missionary. A lack of foreplay. And that was only on the rare occasions she could pry him away from work.
Even when Douglas was home, he was still at work, always on the phone with one of his “investment partners” or furiously typing away on his laptop. Meanwhile, Renee sat lonely and dejected on Friday nights with a glass of boxed wine and The Real Housewives of Thebes playing on the television.
It wasn’t that she set out to cheat on him. It just kind of happened. Months of lingering sexual tension had been building between her and her new, younger lover. Stolen glances. Casual touches that lingered a bit too long. The way her heart fluttered whenever he was near. She tried to resist. She tried to fight the urges and temptation. But each day spent with him chiseled away at her resolve, like a shoreline slowly eroding beneath the tide.
The way it finally happened was almost comical, something straight out of a bad romantic comedy, except it was very, very real. Douglas was gone for the weekend on business, as usual, leaving Renee and the other man alone. She had wanted to reach the stock pot on the top shelf, but it was out of reach, so she grabbed the step stool. The stool wobbled, and she asked him to steady it while she climbed. Instead of grabbing the stool, he gently took hold of her waist, sending heat and a blush creeping up her neck. The stool wobbled anyway, and Renee lost her balance, tumbling forward and straight into his arms. Time seemed to stop. Her feet felt glued to the kitchen tile as she froze in place. What felt like hours was only seconds, but the walls of self restraint came crumbling down as they kissed.
It wasn’t like the kisses in romance novels, a gentle peck that slowly deepened into something soft and passionate. This was raw and animalistic, all teeth, tongue, and unchecked hunger. Clothes were shed and left scattered in their wake as they stumbled back toward her marital bed. She was doing it, indulging her most base desires, surrendering to the forbidden allure of another man.
And this wasn’t just any man.
It was her son, Andrew, twenty two years old.
It was wrong, so very, very wrong, but God, did it feel right. Andrew didn’t see her stretch marks, flesh-hued threads etched across her hips and belly, or the soft, doughy swell of her tummy that quivered under his palms, or the thick, heavy curve of her ass that jiggled with every movement and made hunting for jeans a humiliating chore. He didn’t see the flaws that burned in the mirror’s unforgiving light; he only saw her, really saw her, eyes dark with raw want.
True, she didn’t have much sexual experience, only ever one man her entire life, but this was fucking incredible. The delicious, aching stretch of her cunt as Andrew’s gorgeous erection, longer, thicker, hotter than Douglas’s ever was, split her open inch by inch and made her feel like she was being remade from the inside out, every nerve sparking to life after years of numbness. And the way he couldn’t keep his hands off her, with those long, skinny fingers greedy and restless, grabbing fistfuls of her flesh, pinching her nipples until they throbbed, squeezing the plush give of her thighs, kneading the soft rolls of her sides like he was starving for every part of her…
They were nearing the finish line. Renee lay flat on her back, soft round legs wrapped tight around Andrew’s narrow waist, her heels digging hard into the small of his back, feeling the sharp knobs of his spine shift under sweat-slick skin as he rutted into her like an animal in heat. The headboard slammed THUMP THUMP THUMP against the wall in frantic rhythm, wood rattling, paint flaking in tiny puffs; the old bed springs shrieked and groaned louder than they had in decades, metal coils protesting every deep plunge. Andrew hovered over her, lanky legs stretched taut behind him to drive maximum leverage, corded muscles trembling, his palms planted firm on either side of her head, fingers splayed and digging into the mattress so hard the sheets bunched under his knuckles.
The air between them was thick with the musky, salty scent of sweat and sex, her own arousal coating her inner thighs in slippery heat, his cock dragging wetly in and out with obscene sounds that echoed in the quiet house. Every thrust bottomed out with a dull, fleshy smack against her ass, sending ripples through her soft body, her heavy breasts swaying and slapping lightly against her body.
“Renee...” Andrew gasped breathlessly, his forehead glistening with sweat, “I’m gonna…gonna finish. Do you want me to pull out or…?”
Renee’s response was instinctive. She squeezed her legs tighter, holding him there, not out of fear he would leave, but out of a sudden, desperate need to be claimed from the inside out.
“D-don’t you dare pull away,” she breathed, her fingers locking behind his neck as if anchoring herself to him. “If you do…” Her voice wavered, with a mocking grin. “I will… gr-ground you forever. You’ll never see the light of day.”
Andrew’s hips jerked, the tremor running up his spine. Renee’s arms clung tighter, her nails digging shallow marks into his damp shoulders, as if she could fuse their bodies through sheer will, as if the effort might make the moment last, or make it something new, something other than what it was: her son, inside her, thrusting with frantic, rutting hunger and spilling into her the way only a husband had before. She felt him pulse, thick and living, a fullness that stunned her into silence. The sensation was so impossibly familiar, she’d known that body since it was a colicky infant, had nursed it, changed it, bathed it, tucked it into bed with a lullaby on her lips, but now, now it was the body of a man, and it was all hers, moving inside her with the single-minded violence of a man starved too long.
“Fuck, Renee, fuck, I’m…I’m…”
“Do it, baby. Cum in me, fill me up. Claim me as your woman!”
Andrew’s climax hit so violently it knocked the wind from him. He seized up, every muscle hard as stone, and slammed into her with a final, brutal thrust that made her thighs quiver and her breath catch. The heat of his release flooded her, pulse after pulse, so much that she felt the wet spill deep inside her, his cock twitching and thickening with every desperate jerk. She clung to him, her son, her lover, anchoring herself to this moment, the sticky, animal proof of what they’d done already leaking back out of her onto her thighs and pooling under her ass.
He collapsed forward, crushing her body into the mattress, his chest slick and shuddering against her breasts, his hair damp and wild in her face. Renee could feel his heart racing, frantic and terrified, but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to hold him until the next sunrise, wanted to cradle his weight and never let him go, wanted to see what happened next. She lay under him, cocooned in the heat of their bodies, his weight pinning her down in the best way, steady and grounding and solid. Her legs were still locked tight at his waist, calves trembling from exertion, toes numb. Sweat, hers, his, gathered in the hollow of her throat and between her breasts, cooling now that their frenzy was spent. Andrew remained inside her, thick and twitching, every shudder of his body setting off little aftershocks.
A laugh threatened in her chest, giddy and hysterical. How long had it been since Douglas had made her feel this wrecked? She couldn’t remember. The sensation was raw, like her entire body was a scraped, electrified nerve. Her nipples throbbed where he’d bitten them, teeth marks blooming into red, angry welts. She liked that, they were proof. Andrew slid out of her, slow and gentle, and the emptiness made her whine, tightening her grip around his neck so fiercely he had to twist to keep from smothering her with his chin. His cock, slick and glazed with their mingled fluids, rested hot between her thighs as he shifted to one side, but his arms never let go; he pulled her face into his chest, palm cradling the back of her sweat-damp hair. For a wild second, she worried he’d push away, start stammering apologies, but he just lay there, breathing hard, his heart shivering under her cheek.
She closed her eyes, listening to the labored pump of his blood, the hush of his breath in and out. Her body felt heavy and boneless, nerves raw as if someone had peeled away her skin. The bed was a mess, sheets twisted beneath her ass and thighs, soaked and damp with the fluids of their forbidden love. No one spoke at first, simply basking in the aftermath as their skin cooled in the night air. When Renee shivered, Andrew responded immediately, pulling the blankets up around them and drawing her closer. Her head rested against his chest, one leg draped over his, as if it belonged there. There was no guilt, no shame. Just a quiet, unfamiliar warmth in her chest. A glow she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Maybe ever.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” she murmured softly, his fingers slowly combing through her damp black hair.
“Go ahead,” he said easily.
“How long have you felt this way?” she asked. “About me.”
Andrew chewed his bottom lip, considering. There was no point in hiding now.
“Since I was fifteen,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been in love with you since then.”
Renee lifted her head, her expression caught somewhere between guilt and disbelief.
“Seven years?” she whispered. “You’ve been holding onto this for seven years? Andrew, that sounds unbearable. I had no idea.”
He let out a small, self conscious laugh. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you casually bring up at the dinner table, you know. ‘Oh hey Mom, could you please pass the salt? And hey, later, when Dad leaves for work, you want to have hot and sweaty incest sex? I could really go for clapping those cheeks, sexy.”
She smiled despite herself, a soft, breathy sound escaping her.
“Sexy. You really see me like that?” she asked, warmth creeping into her voice.
Andrew grinned, the same boyish smile he’d worn as a child when he handed her a carefully hidden gift, bouncing on his heels with barely contained excitement.
“I don’t just see you,” he said. “I chose you.”
She caught herself staring at his face, really seeing it for the first time, as if all the years had been merely sketches and this was the final painting. No longer the blur of a teenager, but lean and sharp, jaw stubbled with the beginnings of manhood. His hair, so often shaggy and ignored, now clung to his forehead in damp, dark waves, the curl at his nape pressed with sweat. She could map every freckle, every ghost of childhood scraped knees and playground sun, but now the angles were unfamiliar, sudden, grown. His eyes, green like two emeralds, looked different, too. More focused, less pleading, like he’d seen through her days of hiding and wanted her anyway.
In the bedroom’s lamplight, she noticed how his lips were slightly swollen, bruised by her mouth and his own teeth. There was a small nick on his chin where he must have cut himself shaving, and for a fleeting, reckless second she wondered what he would do if she leaned in and licked it. God, what was she turning into? One moment she had been a bored, sexually frustrated housewife, and now she was indulging thoughts she would have once condemned as sinful.
Yet instead of disgust or shame, what she felt was liberation.
For too long, she had been the glue holding the household together. Andrew helped when he could, but between his part time job and college, most of the weight fell on her shoulders. She paid the credit cards. She covered the utilities. She did the grocery shopping, cooked the meals, and tried to maintain some fragile sense of self in the process. To finally cast aside the dull confines of responsibility and indulge in something purely her own felt soothing, like balm pressed to an old, aching burn.
“Same question,” Andrew said, his arm wrapped around her, squeezing her close. “When did you realize you had the hots for me?”
“It’s burned into my memory,” she said with a soft chuckle, color blooming in her cheeks as her finger traced slow, absent patterns across his chest. “It was a few months ago. I had errands to run, and you asked if you could come along since you didn’t have school or work and didn’t want to sit at home bored. I didn’t think anything of it. I only needed to go to the bank and the grocery store. But then you wanted to stop by Warehouse Depot to pick up some metal chains, though I couldn’t remember why.”
“My friend Brayden needed them to set up a tire swing for his nephew,” Andrew supplied.
Renee nodded. “I can still see it when I close my eyes. The way you pulled the chains from the box. The muscles in your arm flexing. The little grunt you made as you tugged out the length you needed.” She shook her head, smiling faintly. “I remember thinking how unbearably hot it felt in that store, which was strange because it’s usually freezing in there. Then I realized it. It wasn’t the building at all. It was me.”
“I guess it’s my turn to confess...I also had no idea,” Andrew chuckled, the low rumble vibrating through his chest where she lay against him. “I just remember getting irritated at how the chains were so messily coiled together inside their box, that just pulling to free them was a pain in the ass. …Did you get wet?”
“Andrew,” she said, her voice a low purr that curled hot against his neck. “I was soaked. My panties clung to me, the wet cotton sticking between my folds with every step as I drove home. My brain buzzed with a million different questions and emotions...guilt, heat, shame, hunger, all crashing together. I was so riled up all day that even sneaking off to the bathroom to try and masturbate while sitting on the cold toilet seat did absolutely nothing. My fingers slipped uselessly but the ache wouldn’t break. When your father came home, I pounced on him that night and rode him dry, but the entire time…I was imagining it was you underneath me, your lanky hips bucking up, your cock stretching me.”
“I remember that,” Andrew said, voice dropping rougher, his fingers tightening on her hip, thumb pressing into the soft give of her flesh. “I was in my room trying to listen to music to drown out the sounds, but your moans got the better of me. They sounded so raw, so desperate, leaking through the thin walls like they were right in my ear, so I listened to that instead. Every gasp, every slap of skin, every creak of the bed.”
“…Did you get hard?”
“Hard as those chains,” Andrew growled, the words gravelly and thick, sending a fresh shiver racing down her spine. “I had to find relief or else I was going to go crazy, so…I yanked down my jeans and jerked off listening to you get railed. My hand wrapped tight around my cock, slick with pre-cum already, stroking fast and rough while your cries echoed, imagining it was me making you sound like that, me buried deep, filling you instead.”
“Fuck,” Renee huffed under her breath, the word escaping on a shaky exhale, her thighs clenching instinctively as fresh heat pooled low in her belly, slickness gathering anew between her legs at the mental image. “God,” Renee murmured, a soft laugh in her voice. “We are really down bad for each other, aren't we?”
“It certainly seems that way,” Andrew said with a smirk, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He sighed contentedly as they lingered in the quiet afterglow, Renee’s hand resting flat against his chest, his arm wrapped firmly around her, as if anchoring her there.
“Hey, Renee?” he added after a moment. “Not to ruin this, but where do we go from here?” His voice shifted, more careful now. “I won’t lie. I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I don’t want some forgettable fling, some kind of Wham-Wom-Thank-You-Mom thing. I want this to last. I really love you.”
“And I really love you too,” she said softly. “In just one night, you’ve made me feel so beautiful. So wanted. The way you touched me, like you couldn’t bear to let go.”
Andrew laughed quietly. “Not like I haven’t been dreaming about this for seven years,” he said. Then his expression grew more serious. “But as much as I love you, I’m not naïve. We can’t just move across town and pretend everything’s fine. This city is too small minded for that. We’d be social pariahs, not to mention drawing the wrath of both the Graves and Jocasta sides of the family.”
“So what do you propose, then?” she asked. The endearment slipped out before she could stop herself. “Darling.”
Andrew shivered at the sound of it. He wasn’t cold, not even close, but the casual affection in her voice sent a thrill straight through him.
“We play the long game, sneaking moments of intimacy whenever we can” he said. “Let Douglas think everything is normal. We save what we can. I finish my degree. Then I find work far from here, maybe even in another state. And one night, when Dad’s working the whole weekend, we pack up and leave.”
“Just like that?” Renee asked, propping herself up on her elbows. “You’d take me with you?”
“Gladly,” Andrew said, smiling as his fingertips traced the gentle curve of her face. “I’d make you my wife.”
“Even with my flabby stomach?” she asked quietly.
“You’ve got some squish,” he admitted, fond rather than teasing. “It’s warm and comforting. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
“And the stretch marks?”
“What you call stretch marks,” he said gently, “I see as proof of a life lived. Beautiful lines I’d be honored to trace.”
“And my fat ass?”
“I love your fat ass!” Andrew gushed, voice thick with enthusiasm, his hands already sliding down to grip the plush, heavy cheeks, fingers sinking deep into the soft, pillowy flesh . “Watching the cheeks jiggle and shake with every slap when I was hitting it from behind earlier was fucking intoxicating.”
Renee blushed again, the heat creeping up her neck in a slow, prickling flush that spread across her chest, making her skin tingle under his gaze.
“And my saggy tits?”
“First off, they barely sag,” he said firmly, eyes dropping to where they rested heavy and full against her ribs, nipples still flushed dark from last night's attention, “and second of all, all tits are beautiful, Renee, especially yours. Soft, warm, spilling over my palms like they were made for my hands. In fact…” Andrew hummed low in his throat as he tossed aside the tangled blankets with a rustle of cotton, cool air kissing her damp skin for a split second before his body heat enveloped her again. He rolled himself back on top of her, weight pressing her into the mattress.
“I don’t think me and the girls were finished being properly introduced last night.”
“I suppose we should fix that, shouldn’t we, Mister Graves?” Renee cooed. The way she pronounced “Mister” was somehow both wholesome and filthy, dripping slow like hot honey, sweet and spicy at the same time. It rolled off her tongue in a velvet purr that made Andrew’s semi-hard cock twitch and harden against her thigh, the velvety length stirring, pulsing back to life.
“Oh yes, we definitely should, Missus Graves,” he growled, the word rough and possessive, his lips brushing her ear as he shifted higher, breath feathering hot over her neck while his hands slid up to cup the undersides of her gorgeous tits. Andrew handled her with a reverence disguised as hunger, his large hands pushing her breasts together so the pale slopes nearly met beneath her chin. He buried his face in the soft flesh, mouth finding a plump, taut nipple and latching on so greedily she saw white behind her eyelids. He sucked with a force that bordered on painful, tongue flicking, teeth scraping the delicate areola. The suction traveled all the way to her core, vivid, molten, making her cry out, a sharp gasp, then a warbling, helpless moan that vibrated up her throat and clattered through the room.
He switched to the other breast, claiming the next nipple between his lips. Renee arched beneath him, spine bowing, hips canting up as if the pressure in her chest could only be counterbalanced by the pulsing, insistent ache between her legs. She watched him devour her breasts, the hunger in him so visceral it should have embarrassed her, but instead she felt something much rawer and heavier: a maternal ache, a flush of tenderness lit with slow-burning lust. He suckled so greedily, too, like he was starved for it, and her mind snapped back to the earliest years: Andrew as a baby, all soft cheeks and impossibly green eyes, rooting for her nipple with a gummy, desperate mouth. The flash of memory should have ruined the moment, but it did the opposite, doubling the need in her.
He sucked harder, his lips sealing tight around the sensitive, pebbled peak, tongue flicking relentlessly over the stiff bud while his teeth grazed just enough to spark sharp pleasure-pain. The suction pulled deep, rhythmic pulses that made her nipple throb and swell fuller in his mouth, a wet, warm tug that shot straight to her cunt. He groaned against her skin, the vibration buzzing through the tender flesh as he lapped at the hardened tip.
Renee gasped sharply at the sudden, intense pull on her nipple, the sound tearing from her throat raw and needy. Her muscles clenched, fresh heat flooding low in her belly. Using what little strength she had left after the first round, she gripped his shoulders, her nails biting into lean muscle and reversed their positions in one fluid, desperate roll, flipping him beneath her and straddling his waist. Her slick thighs spread wide over his hips, the sticky warmth of her arousal smearing across his lower belly as she settled her weight, feeling his cock, that magnificent manhood already thickening again, twitch eagerly against the cleft of her ass.
“Round 2?” he grinned up at her.
“The night is young and so are we, darling,” she purred, voice low and velvet. “Round 2, but this time, let me take charge because after all…” She leaned forward slowly, deliberate, her heavy double-D breasts, so soft and warm, still flushed and hypersensitive from his mouth, brushing and dragging across his bare chest. The contact made her freshly sucked nipples pebble even harder, aching peaks scraping lightly over his pecs with every shallow breath. Her lips hovered just inches from his ear as she whispered, “…Mommy knows best.”
THE NEXT NIGHT…
And if you can't be with the one you love, honey
Love the one you're with
Love the one you're with
Love the one you're with
Love the one you're with
Renee’s ringtone caught Andrew off guard, the caller ID flashing his father’s face and DOUG in blocky white letters. For a split second, he considered letting it go to voicemail, but decided it would be better to power through and take the call. Just in case his dad dropped a bombshell, like announcing he was coming home early from his business trip.
“H-Hey, Dad,” Andrew said. “What’s… what’s up?”
“Anders?” Douglas replied, confused. “Where’s your mother? And why do you sound so strained?”
“M-om is e-eating right now,” he said breathlessly. “She’s got her m-mouth full. Can’t come… to the phone.”
Renee smirked and flipped Andrew off.
“And your stammering?” Douglas pressed. “Why do you sound like that?”
“Oh, uh, n-no reason,” Andrew said, his voice hitching as his thoughts fizzed and scattered, every ounce of his focus forced onto the conversation.
“No reason?” Douglas pressed. “You sound like you’re in pain.”
God, if he only knew how far from the truth that was.
“Y-yeah, well,” Andrew said quickly, grasping for anything believable. “Me and some of the guys from campus played soccer down at the park the other day, and I didn’t realize just h-how out of shape I w-was.”
It was impossible to focus with Renee kneeling between his thighs, her warm breath ghosting over his cock, black locks tumbling messily down her bare shoulders. Neither of them had bothered to put on clothes since the night before. They moved around the apartment as if it were completely normal, everything from making breakfast, cuddling on the couch, watching TV...doing ordinary things together, completely at ease in each other’s nakedness. There was no urgency, no need for spectacle, just the quiet intimacy of two people completely comfortable with one another.
She met his eyes, an impish glint lighting her face as she pressed a slow, teasing kiss to the crown of his shaft, her tongue flicking a bead of pre-cum with feline grace. Andrew’s knuckles lost all color where they clenched the phone, every neuron in his brain short-circuiting as she dragged her lips down his length with the kind of worshipful patience that made time fold in on itself.
“W-wow, that’s, uh...yeah, Dad, my calves are killing me,” he managed, voice pitching embarrassingly high as Renee’s lips sealed around him, the wet heat of her mouth obliterating coherent thought. The sensation was otherworldly, her tongue swirling as she sucked him deeper to the hilt, her nose nestled in a patch of messy black pubes.
“I think there’s some Icy Hot in the medicine cabinet if you need it,” Douglas said, “but Anders, I called to let you know I’ll be a few days late coming home. I’m this close to closing a deal with Laius Corp, and if I can nail it, I’m sure to get a promotion. I just need more time to let this deal cook, really sink my hooks into the CEO.”
“Y-yeah, hooks are great, D-Dad,” Andrew stammered, his father’s words reduced to a dull buzz in his ears. “Listen, I gotta g-go. Dinner’s getting cold and all… I’ll t-talk to…to you when you get h-home, okay?”
“Okay, Anders,” Douglas replied, before adding with a teasing lilt, “Try not to get too bored without me. I know your mother can be a real stick in the mud at times.”
“Oh, d-don’t you… w-worry about th-that,” Andrew said, his voice casual as he stroked Renee’s cheek, as she leaned her head into his open palm while her lips never left his cock. “I’m sure w-we’ll find ways to pass the t-time.”