Haruki had been home from university for exactly six hours when the dam finally cracked.
His mother, Reiko, forty-four and still heartbreakingly beautiful, had greeted him at the station in a thick down coat that did nothing to hide the lush curves beneath. The walk home through the snow had been torture—every breath filled with her perfume mixed with warm skin, every brush of their arms sending sparks straight to his cock.
Now, in the quiet living room, the kotatsu blanket trapped all that heat between them.
Reiko sat across from him, legs folded under the table, coat shed and sweater clinging to heavy breasts that swayed gently whenever she reached for her tea. The low table hid everything below the waist, but Haruki knew—knew—from years of stolen glances exactly how plush her thighs were, how the soft cotton of her leggings would feel against his palms.
She smiled at him over her cup. "You've grown so handsome, Haruki. The girls at school must be all over you."
He laughed too loudly, shifted—and his knee brushed hers under the blanket.
The contact was electric.
Reiko's eyes widened a fraction. She didn't move away.
Neither did he.
Another "accidental" brush. Then another. Until their legs were pressed together, calf to calf, heat building like a slow fire.
Haruki's heart hammered. His cock was painfully hard, trapped against his thigh.
Reiko set her cup down very carefully.
"Haruki…" Her voice was soft, almost amused. "You've been staring at Mommy's chest since dinner."
He froze.
She leaned forward, sweater stretching tight across those glorious tits, and whispered, "Do you want to touch them?"
The world narrowed to the sound of his own blood roaring in his ears.
"Mom…"
"I smelled it on your sheets last night," she continued, crawling slowly around the kotatsu until she was right beside him. "My scent. You've been jerking off to your own mother, haven't you?"
Haruki couldn't lie. Not anymore.
He nodded, face burning.
Reiko's smile turned wicked. She took his hand—shaking—and pressed it to her left breast.
The weight, the softness, the stiff nipple under thin wool—it was better than every fantasy.
"Then touch," she breathed. "Mommy's been lonely too."
That was all it took.
Haruki surged forward, mouth crashing against hers. She tasted like green tea and sin. Their tongues tangled as he groped her desperately—squeezing, kneading, thumbs circling nipples that poked obscenely through the sweater.
Reiko moaned into his mouth, pushing him back against the couch and straddling his lap under the kotatsu blanket. The heat between her legs settled directly over his trapped erection.
She rocked once. Twice.
"Feel how wet Mommy is?" she whispered against his lips. "I've wanted this since the day you turned eighteen."
Haruki's hands slid under her sweater, finally—finally—touching bare skin. Her breasts spilled into his palms, heavy and perfect. He pinched her nipples and she gasped, grinding harder.
"Take it off," she ordered breathlessly.
He obeyed, yanking the sweater over her head. No bra. Just miles of creamy skin and dark pink nipples begging for his mouth.
He latched onto one, sucking hard, while his hands attacked her leggings—shoving them down along with her soaked panties. Reiko lifted just enough to help, then settled back down naked from the waist down, pussy dripping onto his sweatpants.
She attacked his clothes next—ripping his shirt open, shoving his pants down just enough to free his cock. It sprang up thick and leaking, slapping against her belly.
Reiko wrapped both hands around him and stroked once, eyes wide.
"So much bigger than your father…"
Then she rose up on her knees, lined him up, and sank down in one slow, relentless glide.
They both cried out.
She was scorching inside—velvet tight, fluttering around every inch as she took him to the root. Her breasts bounced with the motion, nipples brushing his chest.
Haruki gripped her ass—full, soft, perfect—and thrust up to meet her.
"Fuck Mommy," she panted, riding him hard now, the kotatsu table creaking dangerously. "Fuck me like you've been dreaming of for years—"
He did.
Flipped her onto her back on the warm blanket, spread her thighs wide, and pounded into her with everything he had. The wet slap of their bodies echoed through the quiet house. Reiko's tits jiggled with every thrust, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
She came first—hard, sudden, walls clamping down so tight he saw stars. Juices gushed around his cock, soaking the blanket.
Haruki followed seconds later—burying himself deep and spilling pulse after pulse of thick cum into his mother's womb, marking her in the most primal way possible.
They stayed locked together, trembling, her legs wrapped around his waist like she'd never let go.
After a long time, Reiko kissed him softly.
"Welcome home, baby," she whispered. "Mommy's all yours now."
Outside, snow kept falling.
Inside, the kotatsu blanket was ruined—and neither of them cared.
The clock on the wall struck 11:47 p.m. when the front door rattled open.
Reiko was on her knees in the living room, yukata hanging off one shoulder, breasts spilling out as she rode Haruki reverse-cowgirl on the thick futon. Her hips rolled in slow, greedy circles, pussy swallowing every inch of her son's cock with wet, obscene sounds. Haruki's hands gripped her ass, spreading her wide so he could watch himself disappear into her again and again.
They were both so lost in each other they didn't hear the stumble of boots in the genkan.
Takeshi—Haruki's father—stood in the doorway, snow melting off his coat, cheeks flushed from cold and too much sake at the year-end party. He blinked once. Twice.
Then his briefcase hit the floor with a thud.
Reiko froze mid-grind, head whipping around. Haruki's cock twitched violently inside her at the shock.
For one endless second, nobody moved.
Takeshi's gaze traveled slowly: his wife's flushed face, her bare breasts bouncing from the sudden stop, the way their son's thick shaft glistened with her juices where they were joined.
Reiko tried to speak. "T-Takeshi… I can—"
Takeshi laughed.
Low, rough, and more than a little drunk.
He shrugged off his coat, kicked the door shut, and started unbuttoning his shirt.
"So this is why you stopped nagging me about coming home late," he said, voice thick. "Our boy finally grew a pair and took what's his."
Reiko's breath hitched. She should have been ashamed. Instead, her pussy clenched hard around Haruki—hard enough that her son groaned and thrust up involuntarily.
Takeshi's eyes darkened. He crossed the room in three strides, dropped to his knees behind his wife, and cupped her heavy breasts from behind.
"Don't stop on my account," he growled against her ear, loud enough for Haruki to hear every word. "Show your husband how you ring in the new year now."
Reiko whimpered, but her hips started moving again—slow, tentative rolls that grew bolder when Takeshi pinched her nipples hard.
Haruki stared up at them, stunned, cock throbbing inside his mother as his father kneaded her tits like he was claiming them all over again.
Takeshi leaned down, kissed Reiko's shoulder, then looked straight at his son.
"Does Mommy's pussy feel good, Haruki?"
Haruki swallowed hard. "Y-yes, Dad…"
"Tell me."
"It's… perfect. So hot… so tight…"
Takeshi grinned, drunk and feral. He reached between Reiko's legs, found her swollen clit, and started rubbing in tight circles.
"Then fuck her harder. Make her scream before midnight."
Reiko shattered instantly—back arching, walls spasming around Haruki as she came with a broken wail. Juices gushed down her son's shaft, soaking his balls.
Takeshi didn't let her recover.
He pushed her forward until she was on all fours over Haruki, breasts dangling in their son's face. Then he freed his own cock—longer than Haruki's, familiar—and lined up behind her.
"Both of you," he commanded. "Together."
He slid into her alongside Haruki's cock in one slick thrust.
Reiko screamed.
The stretch was obscene—mother stuffed impossibly full by father and son, pussy fluttering helplessly around two thick lengths moving in tandem. Takeshi set a brutal pace, hips slapping against her ass while Haruki thrust up from below, their cocks rubbing together inside her with every stroke.
Reiko lost count of her orgasms. She just sobbed and begged and came, over and over, until her voice was hoarse.
When the shrine bells started ringing midnight outside, Takeshi growled, "Now—fill her up. Breed your mother with me."
They did.
Father and son came at the same moment—hot, endless spurts flooding Reiko's womb from both sides until cum leaked out in thick rivers, pooling beneath them on the futon.
Reiko collapsed between them, trembling, stuffed full and dripping.
Takeshi kissed her sweat-soaked temple, then reached across to ruffle Haruki's hair.
"Happy New Year, son," he rasped. "From now on… we share everything."
Haruki could only nod, still buried inside his mother, cock already stirring again.
Reiko laughed breathlessly, clenching around both of them.
"Best year yet," she whispered.
Outside, fireworks lit the sky.
Inside, the three of them didn't leave the futon until dawn.