I woke up to the smell of miso and grilled fish drifting through the house, the same way I had every summer morning when I was a boy back on the farm. For a split second, everything felt innocent. Then I remembered the taste of my mother's pussy still clinging to my tongue, the way her huge breasts had trembled when she came around my cock, and my morning erection throbbed so hard it hurt.
Aiko had already left for work. A note on the table: Early meeting, back late. Love you.
I stared at those two polite words and felt nothing but hunger.
Mom was in the kitchen, humming an old country song as she bent over the stove. She wore a simple pale-blue housedress, thin cotton that clung to every curve. No bra. Her heavy breasts swayed freely beneath the fabric, nipples dark and visible through the cloth. When she turned to greet me, the neckline gaped just enough to show the deep valley between them.
"Ohayou, Kenji," she said softly, cheeks pink. Her eyes flicked down to the obvious tent in my pajama pants, then away again, as if she hadn't spent half the night moaning my name.
I couldn't speak. I just walked up behind her, pressed my aching cock against the cleft of her ass, and slid my hands under her arms to cup those glorious tits. They overflowed my palms, warm and impossibly soft, the weight of them making my head spin.
"Kenji… the rice—" she started, but her protest melted into a sigh when I rolled her stiff nipples between my fingers.
"Burn it," I growled against her ear. "I need you again. Right now."
She reached back, fingers threading through my hair. "Your father never wanted me in the mornings," she whispered, almost to herself. "He said I was too… much."
I answered by grinding harder against her, letting her feel exactly how much I wanted all of her. "I'm not him."
The burner clicked off with a trembling hand. She turned in my arms, eyes glassy with lust and something softer—gratitude, maybe. I kissed her hard, tasting green tea on her tongue, and lifted her onto the low kitchen table. Plates clattered to the floor; neither of us cared.
I dragged the dress up to her waist. No panties. Her pussy was already glistening, swollen from last night, a faint trace of my dried cum still on her inner thighs. The sight made me feral.
I dropped to my knees and spread her wide. Her folds opened like wet silk, pink and dripping. I licked her from entrance to clit in one slow, possessive stroke.
"Ahh—Kenji!" Her hands flew to my head, hips jerking.
I devoured her. Long, hungry licks, then fast flicks over her clit until her thighs shook. When I slid two fingers inside, she was scorching hot, clenching so tight I nearly came in my pants. I curled them, rubbing that secret spot that made her sob my name.
"I'm going to—oh God, I'm going to come on my son's tongue—"
She did, beautifully. Her back arched, breasts bouncing free of the dress entirely, nipples hard as pebbles. A rush of slick coated my chin as she shuddered through it.
I stood, shoved my pants down, and freed my cock. It slapped heavy against her soaked pussy. She looked down, eyes widening at the sight—thick, angry red, veins pulsing.
"Put it in me," she begged, voice raw. "Fill Mommy up again."
I sank into her in one smooth thrust. She was tighter than last night, hotter, like her body had already learned the shape of me and wanted more. The kitchen table creaked beneath us as I started fucking her in deep, deliberate strokes, watching those magnificent breasts jiggle with every impact.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, heels digging into my back. "Harder, baby. Don't hold back. I want to feel you all day."
I gave her everything—long, punishing thrusts that slapped wetly against her, the head of my cock kissing her cervix each time. I bent to suck one fat nipple into my mouth, grazing it with my teeth until she keened. Milk-white skin flushed pink under my lips; I left little love bites across the tops of her breasts like signatures.
"Kenji… I'm close again…"
"Come with me," I rasped. "Come on your son's cock, Mom."
She shattered. Her pussy clamped down so hard my vision blurred, milking me in rhythmic pulses. I slammed in to the hilt and let go, pumping rope after thick rope of cum deep inside her. It felt endless, like I was emptying months of frustration straight into her womb.
We stayed locked together, panting, my cock still twitching inside her. Cum and her juices leaked out around me, dripping onto the table.
After a moment she laughed breathlessly, brushing damp hair from my forehead. "We made a mess."
I kissed her slow and filthy. "Good. I want the whole house to smell like us."
She cupped my face, eyes shining. "Aiko won't be home until tonight."
A wicked grin spread across my face. I was already hardening inside her again.
"Then we have all day to make an even bigger one."
By noon the sky had turned the color of wet slate. A sudden summer storm rolled in, drumming hard against the roof and windows. The air grew thick, humid, electric. Aiko texted that the trains were delayed; she'd be even later than planned.
Mom and I never bothered to dress.
We moved from the kitchen to the living-room tatami like animals in heat. She was on her hands and knees now, back arched, those glorious heavy breasts swaying beneath her with every breath. I knelt behind her, running my palms over the curve of her ass, spreading her open just to watch my cum still leaking from her puffy, well-fucked pussy.
"Look at you," I murmured, voice rough. "Still dripping with your son's seed. You love it, don't you?"
She glanced over her shoulder, eyes dark and glassy. "I love how full you make me feel. I've never… no one has ever needed me this much."
I leaned down and dragged my tongue through her folds, tasting us together. She shuddered, pushing back against my face with a broken moan. When I slid three fingers into her this time, she took them easily, hips rolling greedily.
"Kenji… please. I want to feel you from behind this time. Want those big breasts in your hands while you take me."
I didn't need to be told twice.
I rose up, lined my cock with her entrance, and sank in to the root in one slow, possessive glide. The angle was deeper like this; her breath hitched as the head nudged something inside that made her whole body quiver.
Grabbing her hips, I started a steady, punishing rhythm. The wet slap of my balls against her clit echoed with every thrust. I reached forward, gathering those pendulous tits in my hands, squeezing hard, using them like handles to pull her back onto me.
"God, Mom… these tits were made for this," I groaned, pinching her nipples until she cried out.
She dropped to her elbows, ass high, offering herself completely. "Harder, baby. Make them hurt a little. I want to remember who I belong to today."
Thunder cracked overhead as I slammed into her. Rain lashed the windows; the room smelled of sex and wet tatami. Her pussy fluttered around me again and again, smaller orgasms rippling through her each time I bottomed out.
I couldn't get enough of the sight: my mother's lush body rocking under me, back bowed, sweat glistening on her skin. I released one breast to slide my hand down her belly, fingers finding her swollen clit. I rubbed tight circles, matching the pace of my thrusts.
"Come for me again," I ordered. "I want to feel you milk me dry."
She screamed into the cushion as she came, pussy clamping so hard I saw stars. The sensation dragged me over with her; I buried myself deep and flooded her a third time that day, hips jerking with every hot pulse.
We collapsed sideways, still joined, my chest to her back. I stayed inside her, softening slowly, arms wrapped around her, one hand lazily kneading a breast.
The rain softened to a steady patter. She turned her head, kissing my forearm.
"I used to pray you'd find a woman who adored you," she whispered. "I never imagined it would be me."
I pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades. "You're not just any woman, Mom. You're everything I've been starving for."
She laughed softly, clenching around my half-hard cock still nestled inside her. "Careful. Keep talking like that and I'll never let you pull out."
I thrust lazily, already growing again. "Who says I want to?"
Hours slipped by in a haze of slow, syrupy sex. We moved from the floor to the couch, then to the wide windowsill where the rain cooled our heated skin. She rode me there, breasts bouncing in my face, my mouth latched to one nipple until she sobbed through another climax. Later I took her standing, her palms flat against the glass, ass rippling with every thrust while lightning flashed over the city.
By late afternoon we were back in her guest room, sheets twisted and soaked with us. She lay on her back, thighs spread wide, my head between them as I licked her clean for the third—or fourth?—time. My cum and her juices coated her thighs in glossy streaks.
I crawled up her body, kissing every inch, until I hovered over her, cock heavy against her belly.
"One more," I said, voice hoarse. "Slow this time. I want to watch your face when I fill you again."
She cupped my cheeks, eyes shining with tears she refused to let fall. "As many times as you need, Kenji. I'm yours now. All of me."
I slid into her like coming home: gentle, deep, unhurried. We moved together in long, rolling waves, mouths fused, her legs locked around my waist. I felt every flutter, every soft gasp against my lips.
When we came, it was quiet and devastating. I spilled inside her with a broken groan, and she clung to me, inner walls pulsing softly, drawing out every last drop.
Afterward, she traced lazy circles on my back while I rested my head on her breast, listening to her heartbeat slow.
Outside, the storm finally broke. Sunlight speared through the clouds, painting rainbows across the wet floor.
Mom kissed my temple. "Aiko will be home soon."
I lifted my head, met her eyes, and saw the same reckless hunger mirrored back.
"Then we'd better shower," I said, already hardening inside her again. "Together."
The bathroom was already thick with steam when we slipped inside, the door sliding shut behind us with a soft, decisive click.
Mom let her yukata fall to the tiles without ceremony. Moon-pale skin, heavy breasts swaying, nipples still swollen from hours of my mouth. A faint constellation of love bites dotted the upper slopes—my marks. She looked like sin made flesh.
I stripped just as fast. My cock jutted up, flushed dark, slick at the tip. Her gaze lingered on it, lips parting.
"We have to be quick," she whispered, but the way she said it sounded like please don't be be quick at all.
I turned the shower on hot and pulled her under the spray with me. Water sluiced over her curves, running in rivulets between her breasts, down the gentle swell of her belly, over the neat triangle of dark hair that was still puffy from everything I'd done to her.
I pressed her back to the cool tile wall and kissed her—slow, filthy, swallowing the little gasps she fed me. My hands found her breasts again, lifting, kneading, thumbs flicking those sensitive nipples until her knees buckled.
"Kenji… we really don't have time," she breathed, even as her hand wrapped around my cock and stroked once, twice, spreading the water and precum into a slippery glide.
"Then stop teasing me and bend over," I growled against her throat.
She turned willingly, palms flat on the wall, legs spreading. The sight of her like that—ass presented, back arched, water cascading down the cleft—nearly ended me right there.
I stepped in close, dragged the head of my cock through her soaked folds once, twice, coating myself. She whimpered, pushing back.
"Please, baby. Mommy needs it so bad."
I pushed in with one long, steady thrust. The heat of the shower, the heat of her body—everything blurred into pure sensation. She was velvet and fire around me, still swollen and sensitive from earlier, clenching greedily.
I set a fast, desperate rhythm, hips snapping against her ass, the wet slap of skin echoing off the tiles. Water poured over us, making her skin impossibly slick under my gripping hands.
One arm snaked around her waist, fingers finding her clit. The other cupped a heavy breast, squeezing in time with every thrust.
"Quiet," I warned against her ear, even as I fucked her harder. "Aiko could walk through the door any second."
The danger only made her tighter, wetter. She bit her lip bloody to keep from screaming, but soft, broken cries still slipped out with every stroke.
"Come inside me," she panted. "I want to feel you dripping down my legs while I smile at your wife over dinner."
That did it.
I slammed deep and let go, cock pulsing hard, filling her with thick, hot spurts. Her own orgasm hit at the same moment—she convulsed around me, milking every drop, thighs trembling so violently I had to hold her up.
We stayed locked together under the water, breathing hard. My cum was already leaking out of her, swirling pale against the tiles before vanishing down the drain.
I pulled out slowly, watching my seed trickle down her inner thigh. She turned, kissed me soft and slow, then reached for the soap like nothing had happened.
Ten minutes later we were dressed—her in a modest sweater that did nothing to hide the flush on her chest, me trying to will my cock into submission.
The front door opened just as we stepped into the hallway.
"I'm home!" Aiko called, voice tired but cheerful. "Sorry I'm so late. The trains were a nightmare."
Mom smoothed her skirt, shot me one last molten look, and went to greet her daughter-in-law with a warm hug.
I followed a moment later, heart still hammering, the scent of sex clinging to both of us beneath soap and steam.
Dinner was quiet. Aiko talked about work. Mom laughed in all the right places. Under the table, Mom's bare foot slid along my calf, slow and deliberate.
Later, when Aiko kissed my cheek and disappeared into the bedroom exhausted, Mom lingered in the kitchen doorway.
Her eyes said everything: Tomorrow. And the day after. And every day she's here.
I smiled, already aching again.
This was only day two.