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.
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.