The kitchen, that sanctum of household bliss, was now a hotbed of illicit desire. The sun had darkened to orange, shining down upon their embracing figures in a blaze of golden light.
"We have to go to my room," Ethan implored, his voice tense, "Before someone comes home."
Mrs. Willow nodded, her thoughts in a tangled mess. She knew that it was wrong, but she could not stop herself anymore. She wanted him, yearned for him, and the potential of making love to her son sent shivers down her spine and thrilled her at the same time.
They staggered out of the kitchen, hands never once parting from each other's body. Down the hallway, she leaned against the wall, gasping. He kissed the back of her neck, his teeth against her skin, a line of fire burning where they had been.
"Mm," she moaned, her hand reaching down toward his zipper.
"Yes," he hissed, "Take it out."
Mrs. Willow did as he asked, her hand shaking as she pulled his cock free. It was thick and hot, pulsing in her hand. She moistened her lips, her eyes not leaving his face as she began to stroke him.
Ethan groaned, his hips pushing against into her touch. "Fuck, Mom," he gasped, "You make me feel so good."
Her cheeks flushed at the coarseness, but it only made her more aroused. She'd never been spoken to like this before, never felt anything remotely like being this desired. It was like a switch had been flipped, and she was a completely different person.
"Let's go," he said, taking her hand and pulling her up the stairs.
Their footsteps were silent on the carpeted floor, their hearts beating a rhythm of lust. When they reached his room, he shut the door, his hands returning to her body immediately. He pulled over her shirt, revealing her big, round tits, the nipples erect and begging for attention.
Mrs. Willow's pussy was soaked, her panties sticking to her skin. She knew that if they didn't move quickly, she would come from his touch alone. But she didn't want that. She wanted this moment to last, to savor the feeling of his skin against hers, to burn every sensation into her mind.
Ethan kissed her again, his hands exploring her breasts. His thumbs grazed over her nipples, and she inhaled sharply, her knees growing weak. She felt his cock, still contained in his shorts, against her belly, and she knew she needed it inside her.
"Ethan," she whispered, her voice shaky, "Take off your pants."
He complied, his erection bursting forth. She had never seen her son's cock before, and she couldn't look away. It was beautiful, and terrifying, and she ached to have it more than she had ever ached for anything in her life.
"Mom," he said, his voice desperate, "Strip your pants off."
Her hands trembled as she slid them down her legs, her panties as well. She kicked them off, her bare pussy begging his hungry gaze. He stepped back, gazing at her, and a shiver went through her from his reaction
"You're so beautiful, Mom," Ethan groaned, his hand going for his cock, stroking it slowly.
"Thank you, baby," whispered Mrs. Willow, her voice husky. She inched closer, her hand reaching out to caress him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, her thumb gliding over the swollen head. "I want you so much."
"Mom," he groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head, "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."
They kissed again, their tongues moving in rhythm back and forth as their hands indulged. Mrs. Willow could sense the heat from his cock, and she knew that she must know it inside. She pushed him towards the bed, her chest heaving as she climbed upon it, her legs spreading wide to welcome him.
"Slow down," she whispered, "I want to feel all of you."
Ethan nodded, his lids glazed over with lust. He climbed onto the bed, his cock hard and stiff. Mrs. Willow stretched out her hand, enclosing it around it again, shoving it toward her slippery entrance. She gasped as the tip of his cock brushed over her clit, sending a shudder of delight through her.
"Mom," Ethan groaned, his hands on her hips, "You're so fucking wet."
"It's all for you, baby," she replied, her voice a sultry purr. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long."
He slid into her, slow and measured, the feel of his cock inside her
warm pussy something she had never known. Mrs. Willow's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt filled by her son, the taboo act only serving to make her hotter.
"Oh God," she moaned, "You're so big."
"You're so tight," Ethan panted, his eyes not leaving hers. He thrust further in, watching as her expression contorted in pleasure.
"Take it all, baby," she whispered, her hand retracting to caress his backside, sending him further in.
He began to drive in, their bodies pounding out an ancient cadence. Mrs. Willow's breasts shook with every movement, her breathing harsh gasps. "Harder," she moaned, "fuck me harder."
Ethan obeyed, his hips driving into hers, his cock thudding against her with a hunger that shocked them both. She met each stroke with one of her own, her cunt sucking at him, starving for more.
"Your pussy feels amazing," he grunted, his hands moving to her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples.
"Your cock," she panted, "It's perfect."
Their bodies moved in a frenzy of passion, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Mrs. Willow's hand slid down her stomach, her fingers finding her clit. She began to rub it in circles, her orgasm building.
"I'm gonna cum," she moaned, her body taut as a bowstring.
"Me too," Ethan growled, his thrusts becoming more wild.
One last, desperate push and he shoved himself as far as he could inside her, his dick slapping as he came. Mrs. Willow's orgasm burst over her, her pussy clamping down on him, milking him dry of every last drop.
They lay there, panting, their bodies slick with sweat. The room was quiet save for the heavy labored sounds of their breathing. Outside, the sun had dipped below the horizon, so the room glowed softly with a warm golden light.
"Mom," Ethan panted softly, his eyes wide with wonder, "That was."
"A mistake," she replied, the horror of what they had done belatedly dawning on her.
"No," he said harshly, "It was perfect."
Mrs. Willow looked into his eyes, looking for the truth. "Was it?"
He leaned in closer, his lips on hers again. "It was everything," he said to her, his voice firm with conviction.
Mrs. Willow had a warmth flow through her, and she knew she couldn't lie. "I want it to be perfect every time," she whispered, her hand still wrapped around his softening cock.
Ethan grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I'll handle it," he said, nipping at her neck.
They lay there for a moment longer, basking in the afterglow of their union. But the quiet was shattered by the sound of a key in the lock downstairs.
"Shit," Mrs. Willow gasped, her eyes flying open, "Your father's home."