The house was too quiet. It always was since Dad left. The silence felt heavy, like a blanket you couldn’t shake off. I was sprawled on the couch, thumbing through my phone, but not really seeing anything. It was just me and the empty rooms.
Then I heard the familiar sound. The click of the front door, the stumble of heels on the tile. Mom was home.
I didn’t move. I just listened. There was the thud of her purse hitting the counter. The fridge door opening and closing. The glug-glug of wine being poured into a glass. She wasn’t just having a glass with dinner. This was the other kind of drinking.
I found her on the back patio, standing by the railing and looking out at the dark yard. The hot tub bubbled softly behind her, its blue light casting weird shadows on her face. She had a nearly empty wine glass in her hand.
“Hey, Mom,” I said.
She turned, a slow, unsteady movement. A smile spread across her face, but it was a loose, watery smile. The kind she only had when she was like this.
“Danny. My Danny.” Her words were a little slurred. “You’re still up.”
“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”
She looked back at the darkness. “It’s so quiet out here.”
“It’s quiet in there, too,” I said, nodding toward the house.
She turned back to me, her eyes glistening. They weren’t sad, not exactly. They were something else. “You’re eighteen now. A man. I forget that sometimes. I still see my little boy.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’m still me.”
She finished her wine and set the glass down with a clink. “This helps,” she said, tapping the glass. “It makes the quiet go away. It makes… other things louder.”
I knew what she meant. When Mom drank, a switch flipped. The careful, worried single mom vanished. Someone else came out. Someone bold and a little reckless. Someone who looked at me not just as her son, but as… something else. It had been happening more and more, little hints, looks that lasted too long. It made my stomach do flip-flops. I didn’t know what to do with it.
She walked over to the hot tub and ran her fingers through the water. “It’s warm. I need to get in. I need to feel something that isn’t quiet.”
She didn’t wait for me to answer. She reached behind her back and fumbled with the zip of her dress. It was a black one, the kind she wore for dates. My gut tightened. She’d been on a date.
The dress fell to the patio floor. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Just a pair of simple black bikini bottoms. Her body was amazing for forty-nine. She took care of herself. Toned arms, flat stomach, full breasts that swayed as she turned to step into the water.
She sank into the bubbles with a long sigh. “Oh, God. That’s so good. Come in, Danny. Keep me company. Don’t leave me out here alone with the quiet.”
My heart was hammering against my ribs. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. But my feet were moving anyway. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and kicked off my shorts. I was just in my boxers. I stepped into the water, the heat immediate and intense.
The bubbles churned around us. She was on the opposite bench, her head tilted back, eyes closed. The water made her skin glow. I couldn’t look away from her.
“How was your date?” I asked, my voice sounding strange.
She opened one eye. “Boring. He talked about his golf handicap for an hour. I drank two glasses of wine just to get through it.” She laughed, a low, throaty sound. “He didn’t look like you. Not at all.”
My breath caught. “What does that mean?”
“It means he was an old man,” she said, looking right at me. Her gaze was intense, direct. The wine was talking. The switch was flipped. “He didn’t have your shoulders. Or your eyes.”
The air felt thick. The only sounds were the hum of the tub and the rushing bubbles.
“Mom…” I said. It was a warning. Or maybe a question.
“Don’t ‘Mom’ me right now, Danny,” she whispered. “Just for tonight, don’t.”
She pushed off the seat and waded through the water toward me. The bubbles swirled around her waist. She stopped right in front of me, so close I could smell the wine on her breath, her perfume mixing with the steam.
“I’m so lonely,” she said, her voice cracking. A single tear traced a path down her cheek, mixing with the hot tub water. “I just need a hug. From my man. Can I have a hug?”
I didn’t trust myself to speak. I just nodded.
She moved into me, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her body pressed against mine, slick and hot through the thin fabric of my boxers. Her breasts were soft against my chest. I held her, my arms around her waist, trying to make it just a hug. A son comforting his mom.
But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
I held her tight. We stayed like that for a long time, just rocking slightly in the water. Her face was buried in my neck. I could feel her breath on my skin.
And then I felt it. A change. A hardness growing in my boxers. I couldn’t stop it. Her body felt too good against mine. Her smell was intoxicating. My cock stirred, then thickened, pressing against the wet cotton, right against her.
I tried to shift back, to hide it. But her arms tightened around my neck.
“Shhh,” she murmured into my ear. Her voice was a husky whisper. “It’s okay.”
She pressed her hips forward, a deliberate movement. My hard cock was now wedged firmly against her lower stomach, right on her pubic bone. She let out a soft, shuddering sigh.
“Oh, honey…” she breathed.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she shifted her weight. Slowly, she raised one leg out of the water. She hooked it around my waist, her thigh pressing against my back. The move opened her up to me completely.
Now, there was no mistaking it. My throbbing dick was pressed right against the very centre of her, against the thin, wet black fabric of her bikini bottoms. I could feel the heat of her, even through the material. It was like a furnace.
My whole body was trembling. I was rock hard, aching. This was wrong. This was so wrong. But it felt more right than anything ever had.
“Mom…” I gasped.
“I feel you,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “I feel how much you want me. Don’t stop.”
That was all the permission I needed. My control snapped.
With one hand, I kept a firm grip on her raised thigh, holding her tight to me. With the other, I fumbled at the side of her bikini bottoms. I pushed my fingers under the elastic, pulling the fabric aside.
She gasped as the cooler night air hit her exposed skin.
“What you doing…” she said, but it wasn’t a protest. It was a breathless question.
I didn’t answer with words. I let go of her bikini and shoved my own boxers down just enough. My cock sprang free, hard and eager in the water. It bobbed against her stomach for a second.
I repositioned myself. The head of my dick found her wetness. It wasn’t from the tub. She was slick, and hot, and ready.
I looked into her eyes. They were wide, dark with lust and wine and something like fear. Or maybe hope.
I pushed.
“Ahh, honey…” she moaned as the tip slid into her.
It was incredible. The heat of her body was a thousand times hotter than the water. She was so tight. So wet.
I slid deeper, inch by incredible inch, until I was buried inside her completely. We both froze for a second, our eyes locked. The world had stopped. There was no patio, no house, no past, no future. There was just this. The feel of her wrapped around me.
“Ahhh what… we…” she stammered, her head falling back. “We shouldn’t be…”
But her body was telling a different story. Her inner muscles clenched around me, pulling me deeper.
“Ahh harder,” she begged, her voice a desperate moan.
I obeyed.
I started to move, pulling my hips back and then thrusting into her again. The water splashed around us. My grip on her thigh was iron-tight, holding her open for me. My other arm was wrapped around her back, holding her close.
I fucked her. Slowly at first, then faster. Each thrust was a jolt of pure electricity through my body. Her pussy was perfect. It gripped my cock like a fist, milking me with every movement.
“Yes… oh, God, Danny… yes…” she cried out, her nails digging into my shoulders.
Her words drove me wild. My own mom was moaning my name. She was begging for my cock. I drove into her harder, pounding her against the side of the hot tub. The sound of our bodies slapping together mixed with the churning water and our ragged breathing.
“You feel so good,” I grunted into her ear. “So fucking good.”
“Don’t stop, baby,” she pleaded. “Please don’t stop. Fuck your mommy. Fuck me!”
Her words sent me over the edge. I felt the pressure building in my balls, a tidal wave about to crash. I plunged into her one last time, as deep as I could go, and held there.
I exploded. My orgasm ripped through me, blinding and absolute. I cried out, my body shuddering as I pumped my hot release deep inside her. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me, leaving me weak and trembling.
I felt her own body convulse around me. She clenched tight, a high, keening cry escaping her lips as her own climax hit. She buried her face in my neck, her whole body shaking with the force of it.
We stayed like that, locked together, panting and spent. The bubbles continued to churn around us, oblivious. Slowly, the world started to come back.
I gently lowered her leg. She was weak, leaning heavily against me. I was still inside her, softening now. I didn’t want to pull out. I didn’t want this moment to end.
She finally lifted her head. Her eyes were clear now, the drunken haze replaced by a dazed, satiated glow. And then, a flicker of something else. Shock. Fear.
She looked at me, really looked at me. She saw what we had just done.