Aciddental Fuck

I push open the front door after a long day at work, my heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor. The house is quiet, too quiet, except for a faint sniffling coming from the living room. My heart clenches—my son, only eighteen but still my baby in so many ways, has been struggling since his dad left us last year. I slip off my shoes and hurry in, finding him curled up on the couch, shoulders shaking, face buried in a pillow. He's completely naked, his clothes scattered on the floor like he stripped in a rush of emotion. I don't think twice about it; I've seen him like this before during his breakdowns.It's nothing new, thin like his fatherm I have seen his cock many times too. He is hung like his dad, one day he's going to make a girl happy. I'm in my usual after-work attire—a light summer dress that hugs my curves, and underneath, nothing at all, just my bare skin against the fabric.

'Oh, honey,' I whisper, rushing over and gathering him into my arms without hesitation. He turns toward me, his tear-streaked face pressing into my chest as I pull him close, wrapping my legs around him on the couch to hold him tight.

"They hate me. " He sobs. His body is warm, trembling against mine, and I stroke his back, murmuring soothing words. 'What's wrong, baby? Tell Mommy everything.'

He clings to me, his arms snaking around my waist, and in his distress, he shifts, nuzzling deeper.

"They did not invite me to the party." He cries more. That's when it happens—his hips buck slightly in a sob, and his hardening dick, already half-erect from whatever turmoil he's in, slides right up under my dress. The hem rides up my thighs, and before I can react, the tip nudges my bare pussy lips, slick from my midlife continuous wetness. He continues to sob and snuggle closer, with one accidental thrust forward, he pushes inside me, the thick head breaching my entrance and sinking halfway in. We're both frozen for a beat, my breath hitching as my walls stretch around him unexpectedly.

'What... what is that?' he gasps, his eyes wide with shock as he pulls back just an inch, only to feel the wet heat gripping him. His face is a mix of confusion and dawning realization, tears still glistening on his cheeks.

"It's pussy. Pull out now. It's daddy's little joy hole." I say that to make him get it. Though his dad and I are separated, except for the accidental fucks whenever we see each other, we are not together. But instead of pulling out, instinct takes over—he freezes, then experimentally rocks his hips, slamming deeper into my pussy with a surprised grunt. 'Mom... this feels so good. So warm and tight.'

I gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders to push him away, but my body betrays me, clenching around his length as he starts thrusting in earnest. He's big, filling me completely with each accidental-turned-deliberate plunge,

"Mommy. Can I make this my joy hole too.His balls brushing my ass as he bottoms out. The couch creaks under us, my dress bunching up around my waist, exposing where we're joined. Guilt floods me—this is my son, for God's sake—but the friction is too much, his cock dragging along my inner walls, hitting spots that make stars burst behind my eyelids. I bite my lip, trying to stifle the moans building in my throat, but he keeps going, faster now, his sobs turning to ragged breaths.

'Oh,' I moan, unable to hold back as pleasure coils tight in my core. My pussy flutters, juices coating his shaft as he pounds into me relentlessly. The taboo of it all heightens everything—the wrongness making me wetter, my clit throbbing against his pubic bone with every slam. I cum hard, my body arching off the cushions, walls spasming around him in rhythmic squeezes. A deep, throaty moan escapes me, echoing in the room as waves of ecstasy crash through, leaving me shuddering beneath him.

"Son please don't."

He doesn't stop, eyes locked on mine with a mix of awe and hunger. With a swift move, he pushes me back fully onto the couch and climbs on top, his weight pinning me down as he drives his dick even deeper. His thrusts turn frantic, hips snapping against mine, the slap of skin on skin filling the air. I wrap my legs around him instinctively, pulling him closer despite myself, my nails raking down his back. 'Baby, we... we can't,' I whimper, but my voice lacks conviction as another orgasm builds.

We crest together this time—he buries himself to the hilt with a guttural cry, his cock pulsing as hot spurts of cum flood my pussy, coating my insides. I shatter around him, moaning loudly, my release milking every drop from him until we're both spent, collapsing in a tangle of limbs and sweat-soaked fabric.

Panting, I try to gather my thoughts, pushing gently at his chest. 'Sweetheart, this is wrong. You can't fuck me—it's not right.' But even as the words leave my lips, he's already shifting, his mouth latching onto my breast through the thin dress.

"Mommy I like to fuck you. Daddy's joy hole has made me feel better." He sucks hard on my nipple, the fabric dampening as it hardens under his tongue, and I feel him stirring again, his dick twitching inside me, growing thick once more. My protest dies in my throat, a fresh wave of heat pooling between my legs as he laps and nips, ready for round two whether I say yes or not. He has tasted the forbidden fruit and knowing young men and my mid life libido. I have a long night ahead.