The rain hit like a truck. One minute, it was drizzle. The next? A drenching wall of water swallowing the street. Mom cursed, fumbling with the hotel key as we slammed into the lobby, soaked to the bone. We’d only booked one room. Stupid weather app hadn’t warned us. Now, we were stuck.
“God damn it, I’m soaked!” Mom gasped, peeling off her coat. Her white blouse was plastered to her skin, transparent. I saw the dark shape of her black bra beneath. My face felt hot. I couldn’t look away fast enough. “You too, sweetie?” she asked, shivering.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, pulling off my bomber jacket. My jeans were glued to my legs. Boxers too. The woolly jumper underneath was dry, thank god. “Can’t believe they only had this room. One bed.” My voice sounded tight. I was eighteen. Hormones were messy. Being this close to… her… like this… wasn’t helping.
She rubbed her arms. “We’re staying. Driving in this is suicide. Got a t-shirt under that jumper? Something dry?” Her teeth chattered slightly. “My clothes are ruined.”
“Y-yeah. Sure.” My hands felt clumsy. I pulled off the jumper, then the plain black tee underneath. Handed it over. “Here, Mom.”
“Thanks, honey.” She disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut.
A sigh. A frustrated tut. Then her voice, muffled: “Fucking great. Panties are soaked through too.”
My stomach flipped. Panties. I stared at the carpet, willing my thoughts blank. Bad place. Bad time. Bad everything.
She emerged a moment later. The black tee hung loose on her, but it was short. Too short. She was twisting it, stretching the hem down desperately to cover her legs as she hurried to the bed. That’s when I saw it.
As she bent slightly, wrestling with the fabric, the stretched neckline gaped. A soft curve of pale skin appeared – the top of her cleavage, just visible above the shirt. My breath snagged. Her skin looked smooth, warm against the damp fabric clinging to her chest. She was still wet, droplets catching the dim light on her collarbone.
Don’t stare. Don’t stare.
She slid under the covers, back to me, pulling the sheet high. “Your turn,” she said, her voice a little strained. “Hurry up. It’s freezing.”
I practically ran to the bathroom. The door locked with a satisfying click. Leaning against it, I sucked in air. Get a grip, Simon. But on the floor… her discarded clothes. Wet blouse. Skirt. And there, right on top… the black bra. The matching panties.
Oh god. She wasn’t wearing anything under my shirt.
The walk back to the bed felt like crossing a minefield. I’d dried off fast, but my boxers were still clammy against my skin. Couldn’t take them off. Not with her right there. The damp cotton felt like a betrayal. I slipped under the covers, careful to leave space. But the bed was small. My hip brushed hers. My damp boxers touched the back of her thigh through the thin sheet.
She inhaled sharply. A small, surprised sigh escaped her lips. “Sorry,” I rasped, freezing. “Boxers are still… wet.”
“Well, you can’t sleep in wet clothing. Fuck I am so f-fucking cold,” she said as her back was facing me as she lay on her side.
This felt weird, I peeled my boxers off and threw them out of the bed. I was now naked and embarrassed.
“You cold mom,” I said.
“Yes, so cold here, maybe move close for the body heat,” she mumbled shaking. Shit but she had no panties on and I was naked. How could I spoon her to keep her warm. My heart pounded as I got up tightly behind her and put my arm around her waist. My bare cock soft rested against the crack of her ass my heart was pounding. Please don’t get hard… please.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she let out a long, shuddering exhale, the kind of sound you make when tension you didn’t know you were holding finally releases. “Oh, that’s… that’s much better,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow. It was already less strained, less shaky. Her shivering started to ease almost immediately.
The relief was short-lived. Now that the warmth was starting to do its work, the reality of my predicament hammered me. I was eighteen. Spooning my mom. Naked. She shuffled a little to get comfy which stimulated my cock.
“Is that your…” she went quiet.
I was so embarrassed, I spoke out, “not my fault. You rubbed against it.”
She sighed, “for fuck sake. You know what to do? to get rid of it, hurry up.”
Wait… was she letting me use her? My heart beat faster in my chest as I adjusted her ass to access her pussy. I sank deep inside her pussy, deep. I started thrusting in and out her pussy.
“W-what… Simon… what you… ahhh doing,” she moaned still on her side.
“You told me to get rid of it,” I said as I started to slam into her hard as her ass slapped against my abs.
“I… I… fuck… ahhh, I meant use… the… bathroom and your… hand. Not start… f-f-fucking me. Ahhh fuck,” she moaned again her arm reaching behind her and holding my ass tight. Making me go deeper.
“I can stop,” I said to her as I slowed down.
Her body tensed against mine for a split second, then relaxed. A soft, guttural sound rumbled in her throat, something between a whimper and a sigh. “N-no,” she whispered, her voice rough, barely audible above the drumming rain outside. My cock, which had started to deflate at my own words, instantly strained against her. “D-don’t stop, Simon. Not… not yet.”
The blood roared in my ears. I couldn’t breathe. She said no. She said don’t stop. My mom. My mom was telling me not to stop fucking her. My brain short-circuited trying to process it, but my body had already received the signal. A primal urge, hot and undeniable, surged through me.
I pushed back into her, a little harder this time, testing the boundaries she’d just erased. Her breath hitched. Her fingers, which had been loosely gripping my ass, tightened, digging into my skin. It wasn’t a push away. It was an embrace, pulling me in deeper.
“Oh… God,” she gasped, her hips rocking back instinctively, meeting my thrust. I felt the wet heat of her envelop me, slick and perfect. The friction was incredible, every stroke sending jolts of pure electricity through me. My initial embarrassment was replaced by a raw, dizzying hunger. This was real. This was happening.
I started to move faster, a rhythm taking hold, a desperate, frantic pace born of hormones and shock and something I couldn’t name. Her head thrashed slightly against the pillow, her long hair brushing my cheek. Her moans grew louder, less surprised, more abandoned. “Simon… oh, Simon… ahhh…”
Her ass slapped against my stomach with each thrust, a rhythmic thudding that drowned out the rain. I buried my face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo, mixed now with something musky and hot, something intensely feminine and intoxicating. My arm, still wrapped around her waist, pressed our bodies even closer, eliminating any last sliver of space between us. I could feel the rapid pulse in her belly against my hip, the shuddering breaths she took.
“Mom,” I whispered, the word feeling foreign, heavy on my tongue, laced with a new, dangerous meaning.
She didn’t answer with words, only with a sustained moan that vibrated through her whole body. Her back arched slightly, pushing her hips further into my rhythm. Her legs shifted, one knee bending and drawing up, pressing her inner thigh against my own. It felt like she was trying to get even closer, to swallow me whole.
My vision blurred. The adrenaline was pumping so hard I felt lightheaded. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. Every fiber of her body was responding, pulling me in, urging me on. The thought that she was naked, that I was naked, that there was nothing between us but skin and sweat and the overwhelming sensation of being buried deep inside her, ignited a fire in me I didn’t know I possessed.
I quickened my pace further, losing myself in the rhythm, in the heat, in her moans. I felt a building pressure, a delicious, unbearable tension coiling deep within me. My name, half-gasped, half-pleaded, escaped her lips again and again. Her hand reached back, finding my cock at the base, her fingers closing around it, guiding me, urging me deeper still. The intimacy of that touch, her hand on me as I was inside her, sent me spiraling.
I was on the edge, teetering. Every thrust brought me closer, closer to oblivion. Then, with a final, desperate surge, I felt myself explode inside her. A shudder ripped through my body, echoing the convulsion that shook hers. I heard a strangled cry escape her lips, followed by a long, drawn-out exhale that sounded like both release and raw surprise. My muscles spasmed, and I collapsed against her back, breathing heavily, my face still buried in her hair.
The bed creaked under our weight. The rain still hammered against the window, a relentless, indifferent audience. We lay there, spent, tangled together, the silence in the room suddenly deafening. My heart hammered against my ribs, slowly beginning to find a new, slower rhythm. A wave of shame, hot and sickening, washed over me, threatening to drown out the lingering thrill. What had we just done?
Her breathing was still ragged, shallow, just like mine. I could feel the subtle tremors running through her body, a mixture, I assumed, of lingering pleasure and perhaps, just perhaps, the terrifying realization of what had occurred. I was still inside her, my cock slowly softening, but it felt impossible to pull away. To move would be to break the fragile, unspoken bubble that had formed around us, to shatter the illusion that this was anything but catastrophically, irreversibly wrong.
A long minute passed. Maybe two. It felt like an eternity. Finally, she stirred, a small, almost imperceptible movement. My muscles tensed, bracing for… I didn’t know what. A shriek? A slap? Tears?
Instead, her voice, still husky and raw, broke the silence. “Simon…” she whispered, her head still turned away from me, her words muffled by the pillow. “Stay like this… just for a minute.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a plea. And for some reason, in that moment, despite the whirlwind of guilt and confusion churning inside me, I obeyed. I held her, still deep within her, and tried to pretend that the world outside, and the world inside my head, hadn’t just been irrevocably altered.