He came home late, drunk and pissed off from the bar. The door slammed hard enough to rattle the pictures on the wall. She was in the kitchen in her nightgown, washing a glass, when he walked in.
"Get the fuck over here," he said, voice low and rough.
She turned, startled. "What's wrong with you? You're drunk."
He grabbed her arm and yanked her close. "Shut up. Been thinking about this all night. You walking around the house like that, tits bouncing, ass in those little shorts. Fuck that. You're mine tonight."
She tried to pull away. "Stop it. I'm your mother. This isn't funny."
He laughed, a mean sound, and shoved her against the counter. His hand went straight under her nightgown, fingers pushing between her legs. She wasn't wearing panties. He felt how warm she was and grinned.
"Already wet? Knew it. You want this dirty shit too."
She slapped at his chest. "Get off me. This is wrong. You're my son."
He didn't listen.
He spun her around, bent her over the counter, and yanked the nightgown up over her hips. The fabric tore a little at the seam. She kicked back, but he was bigger, stronger. He pinned her wrists with one hand and used the other to free his cock. It was already hard, thick, and he rubbed the head against her pussy without warning.
"No," she said, voice breaking. "Don't do this."
He pushed in anyway, one hard thrust that buried him halfway. She was tight, dry at first, and she cried out. He didn't stop. He worked his hips, forcing deeper with every stroke until he was balls-deep. The wet sounds started quick, her body betraying her even as she fought.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good," he growled against her ear. "Been wanting to fuck this cunt for years. Mom's hot little hole. All mine now."
She kept saying no, kept trying to twist away, but he held her down and fucked harder. The counter dug into her stomach. His free hand reached around and rubbed her clit in rough circles. She hated how her hips started pushing back after a minute. Her pussy clenched around him, getting slicker.
"That's it," he said. "Take your son's cock. You love it. Say it."
She shook her head, biting her lip. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, making her moan despite herself.
"Say it or I keep going till you can't walk."
Her voice came out shaky. "I… love it."
He laughed again and picked up the pace, pounding her from behind like he owned her. The kitchen filled with the sound of skin slapping skin and her reluctant whimpers turning into gasps. He let go of her wrists to grab her hair, pulling her head back.
"Going to fill you up. Breed this pussy. Make you remember who fucks you best."
She came first, sudden and hard, legs shaking, pussy pulsing around his cock. He followed right after, grunting as he pumped thick loads deep inside her. He stayed buried until he softened a little, then pulled out. Cum dripped down her thighs.
He turned her around and kissed her rough, tongue forcing into her mouth. She kissed back, dazed.
"Bedroom," he said. "We're not done."
She followed him upstairs on shaky legs. In her room he stripped the rest of her clothes off and pushed her onto the bed. He climbed on top, spreading her legs wide. This time he went slower at first, watching his cock slide in and out of her messy pussy.
"Look at that," he muttered. "My cum leaking out of Mom's cunt. Hot as fuck."
She covered her face with her hands. He pulled them away.
"Watch me fuck you."
He fucked her through two more orgasms, changing positions, making her ride him, then taking her on her back with her knees pushed to her chest. Every time she tried to protest he just fucked harder until she gave in. By the third round she was begging, voice hoarse.
When he finally finished the last time, he collapsed beside her, arm slung over her waist like it was normal.
She lay there breathing hard, body sore and used, cum drying on her skin. He kissed her shoulder.
"Same time tomorrow," he said.
She didn't answer, but she didn't move away either. The house was quiet again except for their breathing. Outside the window the streetlight flickered, and the night settled back into place like nothing had changed, even though everything had.
