The storm had scrubbed the world clean.
Morning light poured through the kitchen windows, soft gold and quiet, the lake outside flat as glass.
Elena stood at the counter in nothing but Lucas's white dress shirt, unbuttoned, hanging open.
Her nipples peeked through the fabric every time she moved; the hem barely skimmed the curve of her ass.
She was scooping coffee grounds with one hand and lazily tracing her own clit with the other, still swollen and sensitive from the night.
Lucas walked in barefoot, sweatpants slung low, morning wood straining the front like a promise.
He didn't speak.
Just crossed the room, picked her up by the waist, and set her on the kitchen table right beside the humming coffee maker.
The shirt fell off her shoulders completely.
He pushed her thighs wide, hooked her knees over his elbows, and folded her in half.
"Hold your legs open for me, Mom," he murmured, voice rough with sleep and hunger.
Elena obeyed, fingers digging into the soft backs of her thighs, spreading herself until her pussy lips parted, pink and glistening, a slow drip of last night's cum still leaking out.
Lucas dropped to his knees.
He didn't tease.
He licked her from entrance to clit in one long, filthy stripe, then sealed his mouth over her and sucked.
Elena's head fell back, a broken moan echoing off the cabinets.
The coffee maker gurgled beside them like it approved.
He ate her slowly, reverently, tongue fucking her hole, nose buried in her clit, lapping up every trace of their mixed release.
When she started shaking he stood, shoved his sweatpants down just enough, and slid home in one slick thrust.
The table creaked beneath them.
He kept her folded, legs over his shoulders now, ankles by his ears, pounding deep and steady.
Every stroke nudged her cervix; every withdrawal dragged his fat cockhead across her G-spot.
The angle was obscene: she could see everything, his thick shaft splitting her open, cream coating him in a glossy sheath, her own clit swollen and begging.
"Look at us," Lucas growled. "Look how perfectly you take me."
Elena watched, mesmerized, until the sight alone sent her over.
She came with a soft cry, pussy fluttering, squirting gently around him in warm pulses that splattered his abs.
He didn't stop.
Just slowed, grinding deep, letting her ride it out.
Then he pulled out, spun her around, bent her over the table again.
Re-entered her from behind, one hand fisted in her hair, the other reaching around to rub her clit in tight circles.
The coffee finished brewing, scent filling the room, steam curling around them like incense.
Second orgasm hit her harder.
She clawed at the table, back arching, a silent scream as her walls clamped down and milked him.
Lucas buried himself to the root and let go, flooding her with thick, hot pulses that overflowed instantly, running down her thighs in sticky rivers.
They stayed locked like that until the coffee cooled.
Eventually he carried her to the bathroom, started the bath.
Old claw-foot tub, steaming water, lavender oil.
He climbed in first, sat back, pulled her in so she straddled him face-to-face.
She sank down onto his still-hard cock with a sigh that sounded like coming home.
They didn't fuck this time.
They just… moved.
Slow rocks, tiny circles, water sloshing gently over the edge.
His mouth stayed on her breasts: sucking one nipple, then the other, leaving faint red marks she'd wear like jewelry.
Elena cupped his face, kissed him soft and deep, tongues sliding lazy.
"I want to spend the rest of my life exactly like this," she whispered against his lips. "Full of you. Always."
Lucas's hands slid down to grip her ass, guiding her in those perfect, unhurried rolls.
"Then we will," he said simply.
They stayed in the tub until the water went cold, until he came inside her again, soft and endless, until she was crying quiet, happy tears into his neck.
When they finally climbed out, he wrapped her in a towel, carried her back to bed, laid her down, and crawled between her thighs to lick her clean all over again.
Outside, the sun climbed higher.
Inside, mother and son spent the entire day tangled in sheets that never quite made it back onto the mattress, coffee forgotten, world forgotten, only each other.
Elena woke before the sun, body humming with a single, greedy thought.
She rolled onto her side, propped herself on one elbow, and watched Lucas sleep: lips parted, lashes dark against his cheeks, chest rising slow and steady.
His cock lay thick and heavy across his thigh, already half-hard in that innocent morning way.
She didn't wake him with a kiss.
She woke him with her tits.
Carefully, silently, she straddled his chest, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his ribs.
Her breasts hung full and heavy above his face, nipples dark and tight, a bead of clear fluid already pearling at each tip.
She lowered herself until the soft weight of them brushed his lips.
Lucas stirred, eyes fluttering open to the most perfect alarm clock in existence.
The moment he realized what was happening, his hands came up to cup her, thumbs brushing the wet tips.
"Mom…" His voice cracked with sleep and awe.
"Suck," she whispered. "Drink me, baby. I woke up aching for your mouth."
He obeyed instantly.
Mouth latching onto her left nipple, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing as he pulled hard.
The first draw sent lightning straight to her clit.
Elena moaned, low and filthy, grinding her bare pussy against his sternum, leaving a slick trail.
He switched sides, greedy, sucking harder, teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp.
His hands kneaded her tits, pushing them together so he could lick from one nipple to the other, gathering every drop.
Within minutes she was trembling.
Her hips rolled faster, clit dragging over his skin, pussy clenching on nothing.
"Lucas… baby… don't stop… Mommy's gonna cum just from this…"
He growled around her nipple, sucked even harder, one hand sliding down to cup her ass and help her grind.
The pressure built, hot and urgent, until she shattered.
She came with a broken cry, back arching, tits thrust deeper into his mouth as her pussy pulsed and squirted onto his chest in warm, rhythmic jets.
He kept sucking through all of it, swallowing every drop, until she was shaking and sobbing his name.
Only then did he release her nipple with a wet pop, both of them glistening with milk and spit.
Elena slid down his body, leaving a wet path, until she was face-to-face with his cock: fully erect now, angry-red and leaking.
She guided him inside her in one slow, deliberate glide.
They both groaned at the perfect fit.
Missionary, slow and deep.
Legs wrapped high around his waist, ankles locked.
Faces inches apart, noses brushing, breath mingling.
No words at first.
Just eye contact that stripped them bare.
Lucas rolled his hips in long, lazy strokes, every inch dragging over her sensitive walls.
Elena met him thrust for thrust, inner muscles fluttering around him like a heartbeat.
Minutes blurred into an hour.
The sun crept across the bed, painting them gold.
She came again, softer this time, a gentle wave that rippled through her whole body, tears spilling over her lashes.
"Look at me," Lucas whispered, voice thick. "I want to see you when I fill you."
Elena forced her eyes open, locked on his.
He pushed deep, held still, and let go: pulse after thick pulse of cum flooding her, overflowing instantly, leaking out around his cock in creamy rivulets.
They stayed joined, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
"I love you," she said, voice cracked open. "More than my own life."
Lucas kissed the tears from her cheeks.
"I love you too, Mom. Every second. Every inch. Every drop."
They didn't move for hours.
Just tiny rocks, soft kisses, whispered promises.
He stayed inside her until he was hard again, then again, then again, slow and endless, until the sheets were soaked beneath them and the room smelled only of sex and love.
Eventually hunger won.
Elena finally lifted off him with a wet sound, a river of cum following that made them both laugh, breathless and giddy.
She scooped some onto her fingers, fed it to him, then licked the rest from her own skin.
"Breakfast in bed tomorrow," she teased, voice husky. "I'll wake you the same way."
Lucas pulled her down for one more slow, filthy kiss.
"Every morning," he promised. "Forever."
The sun was bleeding orange across the lake when Elena stepped outside wearing nothing but a thin white sundress.
No bra. No panties. Just cotton so worn it was practically see-through, clinging to every curve, nipples dark against the fabric, hem fluttering high on her thighs.
She walked straight to the porch railing, bent over it, and looked back at Lucas through the open door.
"Come claim me, baby," she called, voice husky with need. "I want the whole sky to watch you put a baby in your mother."
Lucas was behind her in three strides, sweatpants kicked off somewhere between the couch and the door.
His cock jutted up against his stomach, eleven inches of rigid, dripping hunger.
He didn't speak.
Just flipped the dress up over her hips, baring her fat ass and the slick, swollen lips already parted and waiting.
One hand splayed across her lower back, pinning her.
The other guided his cock to her entrance.
He pushed in slow, letting her feel every vein, every throb, until his hips met her ass and they both groaned at the perfect stretch.
Then he started to fuck her like he meant it.
Long, deep strokes that lifted her onto her toes with every thrust.
The railing creaked under her grip.
Her tits bounced free of the dress, swinging heavy and wild, nipples scraping the rough wood.
"Look at that sunset," he growled, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. "That's how red I'm gonna paint your insides."
Elena pushed back to meet him, ass rippling, pussy gushing around his cock in obscene, wet sounds that carried across the water.
"Harder," she begged. "Breed me, Lucas. Fill me so full it leaks for days. Give Mommy your baby."
He lost it.
One arm banded under her tits, hauling her upright, back arched against his chest.
The other hand slid down to rub tight, ruthless circles over her clit.
He pounded into her like a piston, balls slapping her clit with every brutal thrust.
The sky turned crimson, mirroring the flush racing over her skin.
Elena came first, violently, pussy clamping down so hard he had to fight to keep moving.
She screamed his name into the dusk, squirting in long arcs that splashed the porch boards beneath them.
Lucas slammed deep one final time and erupted.
"Take it," he snarled against her ear. "Every fucking drop."
She felt it: rope after thick rope of hot cum flooding her womb, pulse after pulse, until it overflowed and ran in thick streams down her thighs.
He stayed buried, grinding, making sure nothing escaped.
When he finally pulled out, a torrent followed, pooling on the wood between her feet.
Elena turned in his arms, dress still bunched at her waist, face glowing with sweat and love.
She dropped to her knees right there on the wet porch, licked him clean, slow and worshipful, then stood and kissed him so he could taste himself on her tongue.
Lucas scooped her up, carried her inside, laid her on the couch without bothering to close the door.
He slid back inside her still-spasming pussy, slow and gentle now, rocking them both through the aftershocks.
"Again tomorrow," she whispered against his lips, legs wrapped tight around his waist. "Every golden hour. Every sunset. Until I'm swollen with you."
Lucas kissed her deep, hips rolling lazy, cock already thickening again.
"Every single day," he promised. "Until the whole world knows you're mine."
Outside, the sun slipped below the horizon, painting the lake blood-red.
Inside, mother and son stayed joined on the couch, leaking, laughing, planning the rest of their lives one slow thrust at a time.
Elena drifted in that soft, syrupy place between sleep and waking, the kind where the body is heavy and the mind is still floating.
She felt the warm weight of Lucas curled behind her, one arm under her breasts, the other draped over her hip.
His breath was slow and steady against her neck.
Then she felt something else: the blunt, familiar pressure of his cockhead nudging between her thighs, sliding through the slick mess they'd left hours ago.
He was still asleep; she could tell by the lazy, instinctive roll of his hips, the soft little grunt he made every time he pushed forward.
He was fucking her in his dreams.
Elena's heart stuttered.
She didn't move.
Didn't open her eyes.
Just let him use her.
The first slow thrust breached her, thick and perfect, stretching her open on a cock that never truly softened anymore.
She bit her lip to keep from moaning, kept her body limp, thighs relaxed so he could take whatever he needed.
Lucas's sleeping brain took over.
His hips found a rhythm: deep, unhurried strokes that bottomed out every time, his balls pressing warm against her clit.
Each push forced a fresh gush of last night's cum out around his shaft, the wet sound filthy in the quiet room.
Elena's pussy fluttered helplessly.
She felt herself getting wetter, hotter, her walls rippling around him even though she hadn't moved a muscle.
He fucked her like that for what felt like forever: slow, greedy, possessive.
His hand slid up in his sleep to cup one heavy breast, thumb brushing her nipple in lazy circles.
His other hand tightened on her hip, pulling her back to meet every unconscious thrust.
She came without warning, a soft, rolling orgasm that started deep in her belly and spread outward in warm waves.
Her pussy clamped down hard, milking him in rhythmic pulses, but she stayed perfectly still, breath caught in her throat, tears leaking from the corners of her closed eyes.
That was what woke him.
Lucas jerked, hips stuttering, then froze balls-deep inside her.
"Mom…?" His voice was rough with sleep and sudden, shocked lust.
Elena finally opened her eyes, looked back at him over her shoulder, lips parted.
"Don't stop," she whispered. "You were dreaming about breeding me. Finish it."
His eyes went dark.
He pulled back slow, almost all the way out, then slammed home so hard the headboard cracked against the wall.
Once. Twice. Again. Again.
Elena cried out, no longer pretending to be asleep, pushing back to meet every brutal thrust.
"Harder," she begged. "Wake up and fill me, baby. Give Mommy what you were trying to give me in your sleep."
Lucas lost control.
He fucked her like an animal: one arm locked under her tits, the other pinning her thigh high and wide, opening her completely.
The bed rocked, sheets tangling around their ankles.
Every stroke nudged her cervix; every withdrawal dragged his fat cockhead across her G-spot until she was sobbing.
She came again, harder, squirting around him in messy pulses that soaked his balls and the mattress beneath them.
Lucas buried his face in her neck, teeth grazing her shoulder.
"Take it," he growled. "Take every drop of what you do to me."
He slammed deep and erupted: thick, endless ropes of cum flooding her already-stuffed pussy, overflowing instantly, running down her thighs in sticky rivers.
He kept thrusting through it, pushing his seed deeper, until they were both shaking and gasping.
When he finally stilled, cock still pulsing inside her, Elena reached back and cupped his face.
"I want to wake up like that every morning," she whispered, voice wrecked. "Your cock using me before you even know you're awake."
Lucas kissed her slow and filthy, hips giving one last lazy grind.
"Then I'll never wake up any other way," he promised.
They stayed spooned together, still joined, cum still leaking, drifting back into sleep with the sunrise painting them gold through the window.
Elena waited until Lucas was still half-drowsy from their morning nap, body lax, cock resting thick and heavy against his thigh.
She moved like a cat: silent, smiling, gathering four long silk scarves from the dresser drawer.
By the time he realized what was happening, his wrists were already tethered to the headboard, ankles spread wide and lashed to the footboard posts.
The scarves were soft but unforgiving; he tugged once, muscles flexing, and the knots only tightened.
"Mom…?" His voice cracked, equal parts nerves and raw hunger.
Elena straddled his chest, naked, skin glowing in the afternoon light.
She leaned forward, breasts swaying inches from his lips, and brushed a kiss over his mouth.
"Today you don't move until I let you," she whispered. "Today you're my toy."
She started with his face.
Scooting up the bed, she planted her knees on either side of his head and lowered her dripping pussy onto his mouth.
No warning. No mercy.
Lucas groaned into her, tongue spearing deep, lapping at the mess they'd made all morning.
Elena rolled her hips slow, grinding her clit against his nose, riding his face like she was born to do it.
She came twice in the first ten minutes: once soft and rolling, once sharp and violent, squirting straight down his throat while he swallowed every drop like it was holy.
Then she slid down his body, leaving a wet trail over his chest, his abs, until she hovered over his cock.
It stood straight up, flushed dark, a fat bead of precum trembling at the slit.
Elena didn't take him inside.
Not yet.
She wrapped both hands around him, barely able to close her fingers, and stroked slow, twisting at the head, thumb smearing that precum in circles.
Lucas jerked against the scarves, hips bucking, a desperate sound ripping from his throat.
"Please… Mom, please…"
She ignored him.
Instead she shifted lower, settled between his spread thighs, and dragged her soaked pussy up and down the length of his shaft, coating him in her cream, never letting him inside.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
The head of his cock bumped her clit on every stroke until she was shaking again, cumming just from the friction, squirting over his balls.
Lucas was crying now, real tears of frustration, wrists raw against the silk.
"Inside me," he begged, voice broken. "Please, I need to breed you, I need—"
Elena finally took pity.
She rose up on her knees, lined him up, and sank down in one merciless glide.
They both screamed.
She rode him slow at first: deep, grinding circles that kept him buried to the root, her walls fluttering around every inch.
Then faster.
Harder.
Tits bouncing wildly, head thrown back, using him exactly how she wanted.
Every time he got close she stopped, lifted off, let him throb in the cool air until he sobbed.
Three times.
Four.
Five.
On the sixth edge she leaned forward, breasts brushing his chest, and untied one wrist.
"Hold me," she ordered, voice trembling with her own need. "Hold me while you fill me."
Lucas's freed hand clamped onto her hip like iron.
The other stayed tied; he didn't even try to free it.
He thrust up into her with everything he had, brutal, perfect strokes that slammed her down onto him again and again.
Elena shattered first, pussy clamping down so hard he couldn't move, squirting in messy pulses that soaked them both.
That broke him.
He roared her name, hips jerking off the mattress, and came like a firehose: thick, endless ropes flooding her cunt, overflowing instantly, running down his shaft and balls in creamy rivers.
She kept riding through it, milking every drop, until he was shaking and begging and still coming.
Only then did she reach up and untie his other wrist, his ankles.
Lucas flipped her instantly, still buried inside, and fucked her through the aftershocks: slow, deep, possessive strokes that made fresh tears spill down her cheeks.
When he finally collapsed, cock still pulsing, Elena wrapped arms and legs around him and held him like she'd never let go.
"I love you," she whispered into his sweat-damp hair. "Love every single way you give yourself to me."
Lucas kissed her slow, tasting both of them on her lips.
"Every day," he promised, voice raw. "Tie me up, edge me, ruin me. I'm yours."
They stayed tangled and leaking for hours, scarves still dangling from the headboard like trophies.
The clock had just slipped past midnight when Elena padded into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a tiny apron that read "Kiss the Cook."
Her tits spilled out the sides, nipples already hard from the cool air.
On the counter: a three-layer chocolate cake, still warm, waiting for frosting.
She was halfway through spreading thick vanilla buttercream when the screen door creaked.
Sophia (Elena's younger sister, 38, curvier than sin, same dark hair but shorter, same hungry eyes) stepped inside, barefoot in a silk robe that barely contained her 36K breasts.
She'd arrived that afternoon for a "surprise visit," took one look at Lucas's bare chest, and hadn't stopped licking her lips since.
Now she leaned against the doorframe, robe slipping off one shoulder, voice low and velvet.
"Need an extra set of hands, sis?"
Elena's smile was pure wickedness.
She dipped two fingers into the frosting, walked straight to Sophia, and painted a perfect swirl across her sister's exposed nipple.
"Lucas!" Elena called, never breaking eye contact with Sophia. "Come taste what Aunt Soph brought us."
Lucas appeared in the doorway, cock already jutting against his thin sleep shorts.
The second he saw them (his mother and his aunt, both half-naked, both dripping with intent), his shorts tented obscenely.
Sophia didn't hesitate.
She untied her robe, let it pool at her feet, and stepped forward until her heavy breasts pressed against Elena's.
"Show me how you take care of my favorite nephew," she whispered, then licked the frosting from her own nipple, slow and filthy.
Elena pushed Sophia back against the counter, bent her over right beside the cake.
Two round, perfect asses side by side, both glistening (Elena's pussy still leaking from earlier, Sophia's already soaked from watching them all day).
Lucas groaned, stepped up behind them, and freed his cock.
He started with his mother (always his mother first).
One slow thrust into Elena's creamy cunt, bottoming out while she moaned into Sophia's neck.
Then he pulled out, slick with Elena's juices, and slid straight into his aunt.
Sophia's back arched, a broken cry ripping from her throat as eleven thick inches stretched her open for the first time.
"Fuck," she gasped. "He's even bigger than you said, Lena…"
They took turns like that: Lucas alternating between them, five strokes in Elena, five in Sophia, hands gripping hips, frosting smearing across both their tits as they kissed messy and desperate over the counter.
Elena grabbed the frosting bowl, scooped a handful, and slathered it over Sophia's breasts.
Lucas bent to lick it off, sucking her nipples clean while still buried in his mother.
Sophia came first, suddenly, violently, pussy clamping down so hard Lucas had to fight to pull out.
She squirted across the floor, legs shaking, screaming into Elena's mouth.
Elena followed seconds later when Lucas slammed back into her, frosting-covered fingers rubbing her clit in frantic circles.
Her orgasm milked him hard, walls fluttering, gushing around his cock.
That broke him.
He pulled out, fisted his slick shaft twice, and painted them both: thick ropes of cum striping across Elena's ass, Sophia's back, dripping down into the frosting bowl.
The sisters turned instantly, dropped to their knees together, and licked him clean: tongues swirling, sharing the taste of cake, cum, and each other.
Then they attacked the cake with their fingers, feeding Lucas bites between kisses, smearing frosting over every inch of skin they could reach.
By the time the bowl was empty, all three of them were sticky, trembling, and laughing like teenagers.
Sophia leaned over, kissed Elena slow and deep, then looked at Lucas.
"Your mom said you last all night," she purred. "Prove it."
Elena grinned, pushed her sister onto the kitchen table, spread her thighs wide.
"Start here, baby," she said, guiding his cock back into Sophia. "Then come finish inside Mommy. We're not done until sunrise."
Lucas thrust deep, the table creaking beneath them, while Elena straddled Sophia's face and rode her sister's tongue to another screaming orgasm.
The cake sat forgotten, half-eaten, covered in cum and fingerprints.
Outside, the moon hung full and bright.
Inside, mother, son, and aunt fucked slow and filthy until the sky turned pink again, promising this was only the beginning of Sophia's "visit."