At dinner, Tommy stayed quiet about what he’d witnessed earlier—me pushing myself to the edge of exhaustion. Later, each time I passed my bedroom door, my gaze lingered on the spot in the carpet where I’d wiped away his response to my climax, and I couldn’t help but think of him in a different, more-than-mom, way.
The next day, my routine carried on as usual—except this time, I left my door open a few inches more. Tommy knew my habits, and I hoped he’d be curious enough to see what might unfold today.
I lingered with every movement, giving him time to settle into the perfect vantage point. The mirror framed the doorway in its reflection, and I kept my gaze fixed there, watching for the slightest sign that the dance was about to begin. Each breath seemed louder in the silence, each motion slower, more deliberate. My body moved with intention, not just for myself, but for the unseen eyes I hoped would be fixed on me. The waiting became its own kind of thrill—like holding a lit match just before touching the fuse of a M80 firecracker.
The air felt thick with possibility, every second stretching longer than the last. My gaze never wavered from the mirror’s reflection, searching for the faintest flicker of movement. Desire hummed low in my chest, winding tighter with each heartbeat, until even the stillness between felt electric—like the moment before a storm finally breaks and that first. thunderous bolt of lightning hits. I let my fingers trail idly, every touch meant as much for the watcher as for myself. The anticipation coiled tighter, each heartbeat pounding louder in my ears. I held myself on the edge, savoring the sweet ache of waiting, until it felt inevitable that something—anything—would finally give.
The tension stretched to its limit, every nerve alive with expectation. Then—at last—a faint shift in the mirror’s reflection confirmed I was no longer alone. The moment I had been waiting for had finally arrived. Our eyes didn’t meet, not directly, but the awareness was undeniable. I swear I could hear his breathing. My pulse quickened as I adjusted ever so slightly, offering him a clearer view, a silent invitation. The dance had begun, and every move from here on was for him.
I pretended not to notice, keeping my gaze fixed on the mirror, though every nerve in me tingled with awareness. Each slow movement, each pause, was deliberate—an offering disguised as chance. The silence between us grew heavy, humming with everything neither of us dared to say, and in that wordless tension, the game became even sweeter and more costly as the stakes were raised.
My breathing shifted first—slower, deeper, yet edged with a faint tremor I couldn’t quite hide. The mirror caught the slightest tilt of his head, the way he leaned closer as if pulled by my gravity. I let my hand linger a moment too long, fingers tracing circles over my nipples that now ached in need of suckling, and in the charged stillness, every tiny motion felt amplified, impossible to ignore.
The slick stream of ooze creping down my thigh only made my ache more pronounced, every nerve ending raw and alive beneath my skin. Each touch burned like it was branded into me, impossible to ignore, impossible to escape. And when my eyes caught the hard shape of his cock, the sight ripped through me—violent, electric—sending shudders deep into the nucleus of every cell, as if my body had been struck point-blank and left reeling.
It had been two long years since I’d last felt anything. Hell,... two years—it might as well have been a lifetime since I’d last been stretched, last been filled, last had that gnawing void silenced that mere masturbation didn't satisfy. The ache had only festered, growing sharper, deeper, until it was less a want and more a savage need tearing me open from the inside. And then there he was, bigger than his dad, harder than anything I’d ever braced myself for. My god, he had grown—and the sight alone made me burn with unquenchable desire, desperate to be split wide and taken past the point of reason. I was in total rapture.
For a moment, I could only stare, breath caught in my throat, as though I were seeing a sacred and forbidden talisman all at once. Every inch of him seemed unreal, almost too much to take in, and yet the ache inside me screamed louder with each passing second, "I want it! I need it!". Reverence tangled with hunger until I was trembling, caught between worship and surrender, knowing I wouldn’t be satisfied until every part of me was claimed by him.
The awe shattered as the hunger took over, ripping through every fragile trace of any remaining restraint. My body wasn’t asking anymore—it was demanding, clawing, desperate to be fucked and filled until the ache was gone, until nothing existed but the brutal, relentless satisfaction of him inside me.
"Tommy, come here! I need you."
The door opened. He appeared - his shorts and boxers around his ankles, his hand holding that eight inches of heaven.
"Yes, mom."
My eyes blurred with heat, breath hitching hard in my chest, and in that instant every desperate ache, every sleepless night, every unfulfilled orgasm, every silent prayer I’d whispered into the dark came flooding back—the answer was right there in his hand, and it stole my breath away - erect, swollen and a purplish hard.
Tommy’s eyes burned with the same hunger devouring me, a shared fire we were both about to be engulfed in. His gaze raked over me, sharp and greedy, like a thief sizing up the heist of a lifetime.
The room was thick in my scent, heavy and wild, marking my territory. It was the kind of primal musk he might had chased in his girlish classmates, but here it was raw, overpowering, inescapable—womanly and mine alone.
His nostrils flared, drinking me in, and I could see the animal in him tugging against its leash. Every breath tied him tighter to me, like a fly in the strands of my spider's web, only he wasn’t running—he was struggling closer, ready to be claimed by his mom's wanton desires.
The air between us crackled, no longer predator and prey but two beasts in heat circling the same fire. His hunger fed mine, mine fed his, until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Instinct took over, raw and unrestrained, dragging us both into the same furious surrender.
The tension snapped, and we collided like the storm breaking, flaying hands and arms and heat smashing together in a head-on collision. There was nothing gentle left, only the raw force of need driving us, tearing away the last shred of mores and restraint. Every movement was wild, frantic, the kind of surrender that devours instead of yields, leaving us lost in the violence of wanting and the ruin of holding back too long.
His hands tore over my body like I was his to plunder, squeezing, gripping, leaving trails of heat that felt closer to bruises than caresses. I clawed down the ridges of his frame in return, nails raking over hard muscle, claiming him as mine with every mark. My head pressed harder to his chest, the pounding of his heart thundering against my skull like a drum, each beat daring me to surrender, each beat daring me to take it all.
We crashed onto the bed, still clawing and grasping, our mouths fused in fevered kisses. My hand closed around the answer to every prayer—titanium hard, blazing hot, a forged poker ready and willing to fill the hollow ache inside me. God, I wanted it. I dragged it down to the soaked gates of paradise, and when it slid into me, stretching and filling me to the brink, I was undone—breathless, overflowing, surrendering at last the prize I’d spent so long teasing him.
Each thrust tore the air from my lungs and drove me higher, deeper, until heat and hunger blurred into one raw frenzy, my body clinging tight, nerves sparking, gasps spilling out as my hands dragged his hips harder into me, the world falling away until there was nothing but the pounding rhythm of his strokes, the fever that refused to break, the fire consuming us both with every desperate lunge.
Every thrusts blurred into the next, faster, harder, until I was nothing but heat and need, my body unraveling under the brutal rhythmic release, every nerve stretched tight and screaming, my moans and cries rising higher as the fire inside me tore loose, flooding through me in violent waves, leaving me shaking, gasping, clawing at him as I shattered completely in his grip. Tommy let out a primordial "argh".
I screamed, "I'm cumming. Fuck, I'm cumming so hard."
I felt the hot flood of his release gush into me, mingling with the spasms of my pussy as the wetness between us spread with every shudder. The storm broke, leaving me trembling, each wave rolling through me weaker than the last. My body clung to him, limp and shaking, the fire fading to a slow, glowing warmth between us. Breathless and undone, I melted against his chest, every heartbeat reminding me I was still here, still whole, even as I quivered from the ruin he had left inside me.
I loved every second of it. I don't know if we'll ever be the same, and I didn't care. The ache was finally gone... for now.
