Incestuous Tales of the Quarantine 9: Mommy Craves Her Hung Son

Incestuous Tales of the Quarantine

Story Nine: Mommy Craves Her Hung Son

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2020

Note: Thanks to WRC264 for beta reading this!

It was three weeks into quarantine when I walked into my son’s room and everything change

“Hey,” I said brightly as I opened the door. It was the middle of the day and I needed Kevin to help me out with a chore. “I need…”

“Mom!” he gasped as he shuddered, lying naked in the middle of his bed, his hand pumping up and down his penis.

His semen fired from his penis.

I watched the stream of white firing up into the air as he bucked, his face twisted in pleasure and panic. He dropped his phone he held in his left hand on his chest, the seed he fired raining down as he struggled to grab a pillow to cover himself.

It was then I saw the size of his… his… cock.

My son had a cock. At eighteen, he had a big, throbbing, and mighty cock that spurted more… cum. My son was cumming. I was watching the end of his masturbation, unable to look away from the muscular, young man as he groaned, his dick spurting a final blast just as he managed to cover himself with a pillow.

“Mom!” he gasped.

The shock struck me. The embarrassment. Just as I started yanking shut his door, I heard a woman moan from his phone, “Fuck your step-mother hard, son!”

I yanked the door closed and stumbled back, my entire body burning with embarrassment. I hit the wall behind me, panting. My large breasts rose and fell in the sports bra I wore beneath my sweatshirt. I shuddered, rubbing sweaty palms on my purple sweatpants.

The sight of my son’s cumming cock was burned into my mind. His right arm flexing as he pumped away. His handsome face twisting with pleasure. I shuddered as I sucked in deep breaths, struggling to regain control of my trembling body.

I pushed off the hall and stumbled out into the living room, my cheeks blazing. It wasn’t like I was ignorant of young men. I knew he masturbated. I had seen the little evidence for a few years, but to walk in on him while he was doing it—in the middle of the day!—was something else entirely. When had my son grown up? Matured.

I fanned my face. He was endowed. I couldn’t get his dick out of my mind. It had changed from a penis to a cock forever for me. He was a man now. No longer my little boy. I sank down on the couch and squeezed my thighs shut and…

I was wet.

I felt that itch in me. For the first time in over a month, I felt horny. Ever since the first stories about the virus being in the States started permeating the news—the panic buying of supplies, the frantic search to have all the toilet paper I could find—had driven out any thoughts of passion. Not that I had much in my life. I was a single mother. Guys usually had a panic look when they realized I was a mother and then there wouldn’t be another date.

I sucked in a breath, trying to banish this thought. His cock and what that woman moaned. Step-mother porn? Was that really a thing? I wasn’t someone who watched any porn. I bit my lip, my heart pounding away.

After maybe ten minutes of squirming, I forced myself to get about what I was up to. I moved the couch out from the wall by myself, shaking my head at all the trash that had accumulated beneath it. I picked up the loose change and found one of my hair brushes I thought I lost. That went in the garbage. I wasn’t using it after it had spent all that time under the couch.

I vacuumed.

As the machine whirled away and rattled as it picked up the detritus, my thoughts drifted. My son’s spurting cock filled my mind. That thick cum firing up into the air and landing on his muscular stomach played over and over again. My son was fit. Strong. I licked my lips.

“No, no, stop having thoughts about your son, woman,” I muttered to myself as the vacuum cleaner ran. “That’s disgusting.”

It was disgusting. Incest. Why would I have such perverted thoughts? Was it because I hadn’t been on a date in over a month?. And now with the quarantine, I couldn’t go on a date. I was working from home these days, making lesson plans for my grade school students and keeping up with their parents. When I wasn’t doing that, I was having online training sessions and Zoom meetings with my colleagues. I was still getting paid, which was nice, but I hated not having a social life.

There were just my son and the checkout person at the grocery store who stood behind the Plexiglas sneeze guard.

My son crept out of his room an hour later in jeans and a t-shirt. He looked embarrassed, staring away from me when he came out to the kitchen to get a drink. He was a tall boy, surpassing me a few years ago. He wore his brown hair shaved close on the side and buzzed short along the top. I wasn’t a fan, but it was growing out now. So while he looked a little shaggy, I thought he was more handsome.

I didn’t know what to say to him. It was like he wanted to pretend I hadn’t caught him. I should tell him it was natural, that I won’t just barge in like that, that I even understood why he was watching porn. Though why step-mother porn? He didn’t have a step-mother. He didn’t even know his father.

I didn’t even know who his father was. I was an… adventurous girl in college.

Having a son forced me to have responsibilities.

“Listen,” I said, forcing myself to speak. I had responsibilities as a mother. “What happened today…”

“Just forget about it,” he said, squirming. He grabbed a bottle of sports drink and fled back to his room.

I sighed. Step-mom porn…

I got out my phone and started googling this. I had to understand what it was. I swallowed and found that it was popular. A subset of MILF porn. That made my jaw drop. My son could be looking at twenty-year-old girls with perfect bodies but instead was watching older women having sex with young men.

Cougars. MILFs. Step-moms. Hot wives. It was a whole new world of porn. The phrase “Mothers I’d Love to Fuck” stayed with me because it realized that I was a MILF. I was a mother. I stared down at my frumpy sweatshirt and sweatpants. Comfortable clothes to wear around the house. I bit my lip, this strange warmth burgeoning in me.

I had trouble sleeping that night. I was horny. Aching. I busted out my vibrator. My son’s spurting cock filled my mind as I worked the buzzing shaft of my toy in and out of my pussy. I arched my back and screamed out in orgasm in just a few minutes.

I collapsed into a daze. The next morning, I woke up to a vibrator with dead batteries.

As I got ready for the day, a Sunday, I found myself pulling on my gray yoga pants. I drew on the stretchy material over my thighs and up my rump. I felt it clinging to my panties. I drew on a tight tank top over my large breasts clad in a frilly bra. I shuddered at how tight the “casual” clothes fit around my body.

The sort of gym wear I would don when I used to go to the gym to meet guys. To look fit and hot. I swallowed and wondered why I was doing this. My heart pounded in my chest as I started making breakfast.

Kevin came in for breakfast as I was at the stove making omelets. Quarantine did let me cook so much more for my son. Make sure he was eating healthy food and not all that junk food. Was it my imagination, or did I feel his eyes on my ass?

I couldn’t help but bending over as I flipped the ham and cheese omelets over. My breasts rose and fell in my tank top, this excitement coursing through me. He sat down in a place where he could stare right at me.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, his eyes looking over my body.

“Morning, Kevin,” I said, turning to him and giving him a big, motherly smile. His eyes drifted down to my chest. To my breasts. This pleased warmth rippled through me and ended at my pussy. That itch grew in me.

I was flirting with my son. I was showing off for him. And he appreciated it.

His eyes were on me as I cooked. I had his undivided attention. It felt so good. Made me feel like a woman. I had been only a mom for over a month, scared by the media, nearly in a panic at times, but here, in quarantine, I was remembering other aspects of my life. My cunt clenched as the heat built and built in me.

My panties soaked up my excitement.

“So,” I said, “any big plans for hanging around the house.”

“No,” he said, squirming. “Just, you know, uh, hanging out.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Playing video games. Watching videos on your phone.”

He swallowed as I said that.

I smiled at him. “On YouTube, of course. What did you think I meant? That you’d be watching movies of MILFs.”

“What?” he gasped, swallowing.

“Kevin,” I purred, loving the way he blushed. He had the body of a man, but he hadn’t gained the confidence of one. I could feel that I had the power here. It made me feel even more womanly. “I know what you get up to in there. Even before yesterday.”

His cheeks burned.

“Nothing wrong with liking older women,” I told him as I scooped the omelets onto the plate. “Us MILFs need love, too.” It was such a bold thing to say, but I was feeling that saucy heat bubbling away in my cunt.

I was being such a naughty mommy, but I couldn’t help myself.

I brought the plates to the table and sat down as I stared at his blushing face. He took his plate and cut it into one of his two omelets. I only had one. Spinach and tomato. I hummed away as I ate, so aware of how my boobs jiggled in my tight top. They were an ample pair that thrust out over the table and attracted his attention.

He stared at them with hunger. He licked his lips, his eyes roaming all over my big breasts. My nipples throbbed and my pussy grew hotter and hotter. His attention was just something that I savored. I hummed as I ate.

He devoured his food the way only a young man could. The omelets vanished into his mouth before I had even finished half of mine. He gulped his breakfast down with orange juice then bolted from the table.

“Have homework to do!” he gasped.

“Liar,” I called after.

I heard his door slam shut. I stood up and padded after. I pressed my ear to Kevin’s door and heard his bed creaking.