Elena stood in the marble hallway of the house that no longer felt like home.
The divorce papers were still warm in her manicured fingers, ink barely dry.
Twenty-two years of marriage, gone.
Her husband—ex-husband now—had been fucking his twenty-five-year-old secretary on the same desk where Elena used to leave him homemade lunches.
She didn't cry.
She burned.
Burned so hot that when she looked across the kitchen island at her son, Lucas, leaning against the counter in gray sweatpants, something twisted low in her belly.
He was twenty-one, home from college for the summer, taller than his father now, broader too.
The thin cotton of his pants did nothing to hide the heavy sway of what hung between his thighs.
Elena's nipples tightened beneath her silk robe.
She'd stopped wearing bras months ago; the weight of her 34J breasts made anything else feel like prison.
The robe slipped open just enough to reveal the deep valley of her cleavage, beads of sweat collecting there in the July heat.
"Mom?" Lucas's voice was soft, worried. "You okay?"
She crossed the room slowly, hips rolling, thick ass straining the robe's belt.
When she reached him she didn't speak.
She simply took his hand and pressed it flat against her left breast, right over her racing heart.
Feel what he did to me, baby.
Feel what I'm becoming.
Lucas swallowed, throat bobbing.
His palm burned against her skin.
"Mom…"
"We're leaving tonight," she whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Just you and me. The lakehouse. No one will ever hurt us again."
The lakehouse sat on ten private acres, all pine and water and silence.
No neighbors. No Wi-Fi. Just the creak of old wood and the slap of waves against the dock.
Elena wore nothing but oversized linen shirts for three straight days—Lucas's shirts.
They hung to mid-thigh, buttons straining over her tits, the hem riding up whenever she bent over to pull something from the fridge.
Every time she did, Lucas's eyes locked on the plump, bare lips of her pussy flashing beneath—always glossy, always dripping.
She never wore panties anymore. Why start now?
On the third night the power went out.
Thunder rolled over the water like a warning.
They lit candles, poured wine, sat on the couch facing each other.
Elena's thighs parted slowly, deliberately.
The shirt slipped off one shoulder, baring the heavy globe of her breast, nipple thick and dark and begging.
"Touch me, sweetheart," she said, voice trembling with love, not shame. "I've wanted your hands on me since the day you turned eighteen. I just… I waited until I was free."
Lucas's cock surged against his shorts, the outline obscene—eleven inches of fat, veiny meat that made her mouth water.
He crawled forward on his knees, eyes glassy with worship.
"Mom… you're the most beautiful woman in the world."
His big hands cupped her tits, thumbs circling her nipples until she moaned.
She reached down, freed his cock, and fuck—he was even bigger than she'd dreamed.
The head was flushed purple, slick with precum, a thick rope of it already dripping onto her thigh.
Elena wrapped both hands around him and still couldn't close her fingers.
She pumped once, twice, watching his abs clench.
"I'm going to take care of you now," she whispered. "Every single day. This cock belongs to Mommy."
Rain hammered the tin roof.
Lightning flashed white, illuminating Elena on her knees between Lucas's spread thighs.
She took her time.
Licked a long, wet stripe from his heavy balls to the flared head, tongue swirling through the slit to steal his precum.
He groaned, hips jerking.
"Easy, baby," she purred. "Mommy wants to savor her favorite meal."
She swallowed him down—six inches, seven—throat fluttering around the invasion.
Her jaw ached gloriously. Saliva dripped over her chin, onto her swinging tits.
She pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her lips to his cock.
"Stand up. I need you inside me. Now."
Lucas obeyed instantly.
Elena turned, planted her hands on the back of the couch, arched her spine until her fat ass was presented like an offering.
Her pussy lips were swollen, glistening, clit peeking out like a ripe berry.
He gripped her hips—fingers sinking into soft flesh—and lined up.
One slow push and the head breached her.
They both cried out.
Elena was so wet the sound was obscene—schlick-schlick-schlick as he fed her inch after thick inch.
When he bottomed out, his balls pressed flush against her clit, she sobbed in relief.
"Move, baby. Fuck your mother exactly how you've always wanted."
Lucas pulled back until only the head remained, then slammed home.
Again. Again. The couch rocked. Her tits swung like pendulums.
Every thrust sent a fresh gush of cream down her thighs.
"Harder," she begged. "Make me feel it for days."
He obliged, pounding her so hard her ass rippled, the wet slap of skin echoing over the storm.
She reached back, spread her cheeks wider, showing him everything—her tight asshole winking, her pussy stretched obscenely around his cock.
"I'm gonna cum," he growled.
"Inside," she gasped. "Fill Mommy up. Breed me, baby. I want every drop."
His rhythm stuttered.
He buried himself to the root and erupted—rope after thick rope of hot cum painting her insides.
The feeling triggered her own orgasm; her pussy clamped down, milking him relentlessly as she screamed his name.
They stayed locked together, panting, his cock still pulsing.
Cum leaked around his shaft, dripping in thick globs onto the hardwood floor.
Elena turned in his arms, cupped his face, kissed him slow and deep—tongues sliding, tasting each other.
"I love you," she whispered against his lips. "More than anything. This is only the beginning."
Outside, the storm kept raging.
Inside, mother and son held each other, hearts beating as one, already hungry for round two.
The sky bled pink and gold when Elena woke him with soft kisses down his spine.
She was already naked, skin warm from sleep, heavy breasts swaying as she crawled over him.
"Come," she whispered, tugging his hand. "I want you inside me while the sun comes up."
Lucas followed her barefoot across the cool wooden planks of the private dock.
Morning mist curled off the lake like steam.
Elena spread a thick quilt at the very end, then lay back, thighs falling open in invitation.
Her pussy was already drenched, lips puffy and glistening in the dawn light.
A single bead of cream slid down to her asshole and kept going, disappearing between the quilt's folds.
Lucas dropped to his knees between her legs, cock jutting up against his stomach, eleven inches of morning-hard need.
Elena reached for him, guiding the fat head to her entrance.
"Slow this time, baby," she breathed. "I want to feel every inch stretch me open."
He pushed in, agonizingly slow.
The slick sound of her body welcoming him filled the quiet, schlick… schlick… schlick, until his balls rested against her ass and they both groaned.
Elena locked her ankles behind his back, heels digging into his ass.
"Stay deep. Just… rock."
They moved like the lake itself, gentle waves, tiny thrusts that kept him buried to the hilt.
Every grind dragged the ridge of his cockhead across her G-spot; every roll of her hips smeared her clit against his pubic bone.
Minutes stretched into an eternity of wet, lazy fucking.
Birds called overhead. Water lapped beneath them.
Elena's tits bounced softly with each roll, nipples tight and dark against her pale skin.
"Look at me," she said, voice trembling. "Watch Mommy cum on her son's perfect cock."
Lucas's eyes locked on hers as her pussy began to flutter.
She didn't scream this time, just a broken, loving whimper, her walls rippling, milking him in slow, rhythmic pulses.
Fresh cream oozed around his shaft, coating his balls.
That was all it took.
He buried his face in her neck and let go, pumping thick, endless ropes of cum straight into her womb.
She held him tight, legs shaking, whispering, "Yes, yes, give me everything, baby, fill me up, I love you so much…"
When he finally slipped free, a river of their mixed release followed, pooling beneath her ass on the quilt.
Elena scooped some onto her fingers and sucked them clean, eyes never leaving his.
"Breakfast," she teased, voice husky.
Lucas laughed, breathless, and kissed her slow and deep, tasting both of them on her tongue.
They stayed on the dock until the sun burned away the mist, still joined, still leaking, still utterly, perfectly in love.
By noon the lakehouse baked under a white-hot sun.
Sweat rolled between Elena's breasts, down the curve of her spine, pooled in the dimples above her ass.
She found Lucas on the back deck, shirtless, sawing firewood he didn't really need—just an excuse to watch his muscles flex.
She didn't speak.
She simply hooked her fingers in the waistband of his shorts, tugged him toward the outdoor shower tucked behind the boathouse.
River-stone walls, open to the sky, one fat rain-shower head hanging from a cedar beam.
Elena turned the water on scalding.
Steam billowed.
She peeled off the tiny sundress she'd thrown on that morning and let it drop.
Naked, glistening, she stepped under the spray and crooked a finger.
Lucas was there in two strides, shorts kicked aside, cock already heavy and half-hard, swinging between his thighs.
Water sheeted over them both, turning Elena's skin rose-gold.
Rivulets raced over her nipples, down the slope of her belly, through the slick seam of her pussy.
She pressed her back to the warm stone wall, lifted one leg, hooked it high around his hip.
The position opened her completely—puffy lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a steady drip of arousal mixing with the shower.
"Put it in me, baby," she murmured, reaching down to spread herself with two fingers. "Mommy's been empty all morning."
Lucas gripped the base of his cock—now fully erect, angry-red and veined—and fed it to her in one slow, relentless glide.
The water made everything louder: the wet slap of his hips meeting her thighs, the squelch of her pussy swallowing him whole.
He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other cupping her ass, fingers sinking deep into soft flesh.
Then he fucked her like a man possessed.
Long, punishing strokes.
Pulling out until just the fat crown stretched her entrance, then slamming back in until her toes curled.
Every thrust lifted her onto the balls of her feet; her tits bounced wildly, flinging water in every direction.
Elena's head fell back against the stone, mouth open on silent screams.
The shower drowned out everything but the obscene sound of their bodies colliding.
"Look down," Lucas growled. "Watch me split you open."
She did.
Watched his thick shaft disappear again and again into her creamy hole, watched her lips cling to him on every withdrawal, watched her own juices coat him in a glossy sheath.
The sight wrecked her.
Her orgasm hit like a freight train—pussy spasming, squirting hard around his cock, a gush that splashed against his abs and ran down his legs.
She screamed this time, raw and broken, the sound echoing off the stone.
Lucas followed seconds later.
He shoved in to the root and stayed there, hips jerking as he unloaded, pulse after pulse of thick cum flooding her already-stuffed pussy.
She could feel every spurt, hot and heavy, painting her insides.
When he finally pulled out, the water washed most of it away, but not all.
A fat pearl of white clung to her clit.
Elena scooped it up with two fingers and pushed them into Lucas's mouth.
He sucked them clean, eyes locked on hers, then kissed her slow and filthy, sharing the taste.
They stayed under the spray until the water cooled, bodies pressed tight, hearts hammering in perfect sync.
Elena rested her forehead against his chest.
"I'm never letting you go," she whispered.
Lucas's arms tightened around her.
"Good. Because I'm never leaving."
The heat had turned thick and lazy, the kind that makes clothes feel criminal.
Elena found the old rope hammock strung between two pines, swaying gently in the breeze off the lake.
She'd brought only two things: a bottle of chilled rosé and the sheer white sarong that barely qualified as clothing.
Lucas was already there, stretched out naked, one arm behind his head, the other lazily stroking his half-hard cock just because he could.
Eleven inches of lazy, veiny perfection, resting against his thigh like it owned the place.
Elena smiled, slow and wicked.
She climbed in straddling him, knees sinking into the woven ropes on either side of his hips.
The hammock dipped, cradled them together.
Her tits brushed his chest; her soaked pussy painted a wet stripe up the underside of his shaft.
No words.
Just the soft clink of the rosé bottle against his teeth as she let him drink first, then tipped it to her own lips, pink wine spilling over her chin, dripping onto her nipples.
Lucas chased every drop with his tongue.
When the bottle was half-empty, Elena set it in the grass and reached between them.
She wrapped both hands around his cock (still not enough to circle it completely) and guided the fat head to her entrance.
"Hold still," she whispered. "Mommy's going to fuck you so slow you'll beg."
She sank down inch by torturous inch.
The hammock swayed with every tiny descent, rocking them together, pulling them apart, then together again.
When he was finally buried to the root, balls pressed tight against her ass, she stilled.
Just breathed.
Just felt him throb inside her.
Then she started to move: tiny circles, figure-eights, barely-there lifts that kept him deep.
Her clit dragged over his pubic bone on every roll.
The ropes creaked beneath them, a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
Minutes bled into an hour.
Sweat beaded, rolled, mingled.
Their mouths stayed fused the whole time: soft kisses, filthy whispers, I love you, I love you, I love you.
Elena's pussy never stopped dripping.
Every gentle rock pushed another gush of cream out around his cock, coating his balls, dripping onto the hammock in sticky strands.
Lucas's hands roamed: kneading her ass, plumping her tits, pinching her nipples until she whimpered into his mouth.
"Close," he finally groaned, voice ragged.
"Me too, baby. Let's fall together."
She picked up the pace just enough: deeper rolls, tighter circles, her walls fluttering around him like a heartbeat.
The orgasm rolled through her slow and endless, waves on the lake.
She didn't scream; she sighed his name like a prayer, pussy clenching in long, milking pulls.
Lucas followed with a broken groan, hips jerking up once, twice, then holding deep as he flooded her again.
She felt every pulse, every hot spurt painting her insides, felt it overflow and trickle down his shaft.
They stayed locked like that, hammock swaying, sun dappling their joined bodies in gold.
Eventually Elena lifted off him with a wet, filthy sound.
A river of cum followed, pooling in the hollow of his belly.
She slid down, licked him clean: slow, worshipful swipes of her tongue, gathering every drop.
When she finished, she crawled back up and tucked herself under his arm, head on his chest.
The hammock rocked them gently, like a cradle.
"Forever," she murmured against his skin.
Lucas pressed a kiss to her hair.
"Forever, Mom."
The sun hung low and lazy, bleeding orange through the lakehouse windows.
Elena stood at the counter in nothing but a tiny apron, the strings tied in a bow right above the dimples of her ass.
Her tits spilled out the sides, nipples brushing the cool marble every time she reached for something.
Lucas walked in barefoot, wearing only sweatpants riding low on his hips.
He stopped dead when he saw the can of whipped cream in her hand and the wicked smile on her face.
"Dessert before dinner," she said, voice honey-thick.
She sprayed a perfect swirl on each nipple, then a long stripe down her belly that stopped just above her bare pussy.
Another dollop right on her clit, melting instantly in the heat between her thighs.
Lucas was on her in seconds.
He lifted her onto the counter, spread her thighs wide, and devoured her like a starving man.
Tongue lapping whipped cream and pussy in equal measure, swirling around her clit until her legs shook.
Every time she got close he backed off, licked the cream from her nipples instead, sucked them clean, then returned to her dripping cunt.
By the time the can was empty, Elena was a wreck: thighs trembling, apron askew, begging in broken whispers.
"Please, baby… please let Mommy cum…"
Lucas stood, shoved his sweatpants down, and lined up.
One slow thrust and he was buried to the hilt, the counter creaking under the force.
He fucked her steady and deep, hands gripping her hips, eyes locked on where they joined: his thick cock splitting her pink, creamy pussy open again and again.
Whipped cream smeared between them, sticky and sweet.
Elena's first orgasm hit hard, back arching off the counter, tits bouncing as she screamed his name.
He didn't stop. Just kept stroking through it, dragging it out until she was sobbing from overstimulation.
Then he pulled out, spun her around, bent her over the same counter.
Re-entered her from behind in one slick thrust, the new angle making her gasp.
"Look at us," he growled.
The window above the sink had turned into a mirror in the dying light.
Elena watched them: her huge tits swinging with every thrust, Lucas behind her, muscles flexing, cock disappearing into her over and over.
The sight sent her over again.
She came with a wail, pussy gushing around him, squirting down his balls and onto the floor.
Lucas followed seconds later, slamming deep and holding, flooding her with heat.
She felt every pulse, every rope of cum painting her walls.
They stayed like that until their breathing slowed.
Then Lucas scooped her up, carried her to the living room, and laid her on the thick sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace.
He slid back inside her while they were still leaking, slow and gentle now.
Missionary, face to face, legs wrapped around each other.
No rush.
Just the crackle of the fire and the soft, wet sounds of their bodies moving together.
Elena cupped his face, tears in her eyes, not from pain but from the overwhelming love.
"I've never been this happy," she whispered. "Not once in my whole life."
Lucas kissed the tears away, hips rolling slow, cock dragging over every sensitive spot inside her.
"Me neither, Mom. You're my whole world."
They made love like that for hours: lazy thrusts, soft kisses, whispered I love yous.
He came inside her twice more, each time softer, sweeter, until they were both too spent to move.
Eventually the fire burned low.
Elena lay draped across his chest, his cock still half-hard inside her, plugging every drop of cum.
She traced lazy circles on his skin.
"Tomorrow," she murmured, "I want to wake up with you in my mouth."
Lucas chuckled, the sound rumbling through her.
"Deal," he said, and kissed her forehead.
Outside, the lake was black glass.
Inside, mother and son drifted toward sleep, still joined, still leaking, still utterly owned by each other.
The sky was still bruised purple when Elena slipped from the sheets, leaving Lucas sleeping on his stomach, one arm flung out, cock half-hard against the mattress.
She padded naked to the dock, untied the little aluminum rowboat, and pushed it into the glassy water.
Then she came back, kissed his shoulder until he stirred.
"Bring that beautiful cock outside, baby. Mommy wants to ride you on the lake."
Lucas was awake in an instant.
He followed her like a man in a dream, both of them bare under the first pale streaks of sunrise.
They climbed into the boat.
Elena took the middle bench, facing the bow.
Lucas sat behind her, legs spread wide so she could settle between them, back to his chest.
The boat drifted lazy circles in the middle of the lake, no oars, no motor, just the two of them and the hush of water kissing hull.
Elena lifted up, reached between her thighs, and guided him in.
One slow descent and she was impaled, eleven thick inches stretching her open while the cool morning air kissed her clit.
She started to rock.
Tiny movements at first, just enough to feel him throb inside her.
The boat swayed with them, gentle, hypnotic, like they were fucking the lake itself.
Lucas's hands came around to cup her heavy breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they ached.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing her in.
"Love you so much," he whispered against her neck. "Love being inside you every second of the day."
Elena leaned back, tilting her hips so every roll dragged his cockhead across her front wall.
Her pussy made soft, wet sounds in the quiet, cream already coating his shaft and dripping into the boat.
Minutes stretched.
The sun crested the treeline, turning the mist gold.
Elena's movements grew deeper, slower, more deliberate.
She wanted this to last forever.
Lucas's breathing turned ragged.
One hand slid down her belly, fingers finding her clit, rubbing in perfect circles.
"Come with me, Mom," he murmured. "Let me feel you milk me while the sun comes up."
That was all it took.
Elena's orgasm rolled through her like warm honey, pussy fluttering, squeezing, gushing around him in long, slow pulses.
She didn't scream, just a broken, loving moan that echoed across the water.
Lucas followed with a deep groan, hips jerking up once, twice, then holding still as he pumped rope after rope of thick cum into her.
She felt every spurt, every throb, felt it overflow and trickle down his balls into the puddle beneath them.
They stayed locked together until the sun was fully up, boat still drifting, bodies still joined.
Eventually Elena lifted off him with a soft, wet sound.
She turned, knelt between his thighs, and licked him clean, slow, worshipful swipes of her tongue gathering their mixed release.
When he was spotless, she crawled up and kissed him, sharing the taste.
They rowed back in silence, fingers laced, cum still leaking down her thighs.
Back in the bedroom they didn't bother with sheets.
Just fell onto the mattress, Elena on her side, Lucas curled behind her.
He slipped back inside her from behind, one arm under her breasts, the other draped over her hip, fingers lazily circling her clit.
They fucked like that for hours, slow, sleepy spooning sex that never quite stopped.
Mini-orgasms rippled through her every few minutes; he came twice more, soft and endless, adding to the mess between her legs.
By noon they were a wreck of sweat and cum and tangled limbs, still moving together in tiny thrusts.
Elena reached back, cupped his face.
"I want to stay like this all day," she whispered. "Your cock inside me, your arms around me, nowhere else to be."
Lucas pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
"Then we will," he said simply.
Outside, the lake sparkled.
Inside, mother and son drifted in and out of sleep, joined at the deepest point, hearts beating as one.
The storm rolled in just after midnight, black clouds swallowing the moon, thunder cracking so loud the windows rattled.
Elena was already awake, standing naked at the screen door, rain blowing in sideways, misting her skin.
She looked over her shoulder at Lucas, eyes wild.
"Take me out there," she said. "I want to feel you fuck me while the sky screams."
Lightning flashed.
For one white-hot second her body was illuminated: heavy tits dripping, nipples diamond-hard, pussy visibly swollen and glistening even in the dark.
Lucas didn't hesitate.
He scooped her up, carried her through the downpour to the end of the dock.
Rain lashed them, cold and stinging, turning their skin slick.
He set her down on her knees first.
The wooden planks were rough, perfect.
Elena attacked his cock like a woman possessed: both hands pumping, mouth stretched wide, taking him to the root until her nose pressed against his pelvis.
Rain poured over them; she didn't care.
She sucked him messy, sloppy, drool and rainwater running down her chin, over her swinging tits.
Lucas threaded fingers through her soaked hair, fucked her throat in short, brutal thrusts until she gagged and moaned around him.
Then he pulled her up, spun her around, bent her over the very edge of the dock.
The lake churned black beneath them, waves slapping the pilings.
He slammed into her in one stroke.
No warning, no gentleness.
Just eleven thick inches splitting her open while thunder exploded overhead.
Elena screamed into the storm, the sound ripped away by wind.
Every thrust sent her tits bouncing, rain flying off her nipples like sparks.
Her pussy gushed around him, squirting with every brutal stroke, mixing with the rain running down their legs.
"Harder," she begged, voice raw. "Fuck me until I can't walk, baby. Make me yours in front of the whole fucking sky."
Lucas gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and gave her exactly what she wanted.
The dock shook beneath them.
Lightning flashed again and again, strobing their bodies: his cock pistoning in and out, her ass rippling, cream coating his shaft in thick ropes.
She came first, violently, pussy clamping down so hard he had to fight to keep moving.
Her scream was lost to another crack of thunder as she squirted in long arcs that hit the water below.
Lucas followed with a roar, slamming deep and unloading, pulse after pulse of hot cum flooding her spasming cunt.
He didn't stop thrusting through it, pushing his seed deeper, until they were both shaking.
But they weren't done.
He pulled out, spun her again, lifted her.
Elena wrapped legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and he carried her straight back through the rain, cock still hard, sliding against her clit with every step.
Inside, he didn't bother with lights.
Just kicked the door shut and took her against the nearest wall, then the floor, then the couch, then the stairs.
Every surface got them.
On the stairs he had her on all fours, pounding her from behind while she clawed at the carpet.
On the couch she rode him reverse, ass bouncing, tits swinging, begging him to slap them red.
In the bedroom doorway he held her up against the frame, legs over his arms, fucking her so deep her eyes rolled back.
By the time they collapsed onto the bed, the storm was directly overhead, thunder shaking the house like it was cheering them on.
Elena straddled him one last time, hands on his chest, riding slow and filthy.
Rain still dripped from her hair onto his skin.
"Look at me," she whispered, voice wrecked. "Watch Mommy milk you one more time."
She rolled her hips in perfect circles, pussy fluttering, squeezing.
Lucas's hands gripped her thighs hard enough to leave marks.
They came together, quiet this time, just shattered breaths and trembling, her walls rippling around him as he filled her again, softer, endless, perfect.
After, he carried her to the shower, washed her gently, kissed every bruise he'd left.
Then back to bed, still leaking, still joined.
Elena curled into his chest, fingers tracing his lips.
"I want storms every night," she murmured, "so you'll fuck me like the world's ending."
Lucas kissed her slow and deep.
"Every night," he promised. "And every morning. And every second in between."
Outside, the thunder rolled away across the lake.
Inside, mother and son fell asleep wrapped tight, cum still dripping from her swollen pussy, hearts beating the same rhythm.