Skip to content This is part 1 of the Mother’s Orgasm series.
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I would never forget the first day I saw my mother orgasm, and what it would eventually lead to.
My mom was quite attractive at forty-five. She already looked a decade younger. She worked as a real estate agent, and she knew how to leverage her beauty and take care of herself. She often complained that the job could be stressful, especially when a sale did not close.
She was still very active. She took long walks and regularly went to the gym. Even though I was twenty, she always seemed to have as much energy as I did.
One evening, I had a date planned with my girlfriend. My mother cooked dinner for me. She wore a knee-length summer dress that clung to her hourglass figure.
“So what are you and Julia up to later?” she asked. She turned around, giving me a glimpse of her face. She wore red lipstick that made her lips look even sweeter and plumper, and also a light blush that gave her face a naturally smooth appearance. She loved beauty products like any other woman, but even without those products, she still turned heads.
Julia was my girlfriend. We had planned a simple night together. “Probably just watch a movie or something.”
“Something romantic?” Mom asked as she set a bowl of Caesar salad on the table.
“Probably,” I said, exchanging a grin with her. “What about you?”
She sat down and pulled her thick, dark blond hair into a ponytail. “I think I’m just going to rest. It’s been a tough week.”
“I hope you do,” I said, meaning it. There was more to my mother than her looks. She had always been thoughtful and considerate, and I could tell when she was worn down.
After dinner, I stood from the table and grabbed my jacket. “I should get going.”
Mom rose with me. “Have fun tonight,” she said, stepping closer. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a hug. Her body pressed fully against mine, her breasts warm and soft against my chest. She held the hug, which warmed my core. I picked up the scent of her strawberry perfume, a perfume my girlfriend also loved to wear.
“I will,” I said.
“And take care of your sweetheart,” she said.
“Of course,” I replied, forcing a small smile before pulling away.
I stepped outside and headed toward her, already pulling my phone from my pocket to text Julia that I was on my way. It was a twenty-minute walk to her place from mine, but after fifteen minutes, my screen lit up with a message from her.
Hey, I’m really sorry. I’m sick and don’t think I can make it tonight. I feel awful.
I stopped walking and sighed, then typed back. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Feel better.
She replied with a heart and another apology. I wished her the best and slipped my phone away. With nowhere else to go, I turned around and headed back toward the house.
As I reached the front door, something made me pause. A sound drifted down the hallway. It was a low moan, coming from the bathroom.
I stood there, frozen, listening.
Was she…? The thought formed in my mind before I could stop it. My mother was masturbating.
I should probably give her some privacy. I should turn around and walk away, maybe come back after an hour. But curiosity rooted me in place. I quietly turned the doorknob and slipped inside, careful not to make a sound.
The moans grew louder as I moved through the house. My heart hammered against my ribs as I approached the stairs. Each step I took felt forbidden, yet I couldn’t stop myself. The wooden stairs creaked, but her sounds masked any noise I made.
At the top of the landing, I paused. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway. Her moans were clear now, combined with short gasps and whispers I couldn’t quite make out.
I inched forward until I could see through the gap.
My mother lay in the bathtub, completely naked. Water beaded on her skin, making it glisten in the bathroom light. Her dark blonde hair was splayed around her shoulders, damp at the ends. But what caught my breath were her breasts, full, round D-cups that sat perfectly on her chest, nipples thick, hard and peachy against her areolas.
“Wow,” I mouthed as she slid her hand between her legs. Her middle finger disappeared between her folds as she began to circle her clit. Her back arched slightly, pushing her breasts upward. They were magical, looking like two bells. The valley between them looked incredibly deep.
Even if I tried not to, I became horny. Blood rushed south, and my cock hardened against my jeans. This was wrong, so wrong, but I couldn’t look away.
She shifted position, thrusting her hips upward. I could see everything now, her completely shaved pussy, the pink folds of her labia glistening with her arousal. The intimate flesh was a deeper rose color than the surrounding skin, swollen with need. She slid two fingers inside her vagina, thrusting them in and out as she squeezed her boob with her left hand.
Her breathing deepened as she reached for something on the edge of the tub, a purple dildo. She brought it to her mouth first, running her tongue along its length before pointing it between her legs. With her other hand, she lifted her fingers to her lips, tasting her honey as she slowly pushed the toy inside her sex.
“Oh God,” she whispered, beginning to thrust the dildo in and out. Her free hand kneaded her breast, pinching her nipple while the toy stretched her pussy.
The sight was too much. Heat pooled in my groin, pressure building unbearably. I didn’t touch myself, but it grew so hot, it felt like I could come any second. As she fucked herself faster, her moans grew louder. My mother was about to climax right in front of my eyes. She was about to reach the big O.
Water spilled over the edges as she squirmed in pleasure. She suddenly tensed, her back arching sharply off the tub. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, before letting out a long, shuddering moan that seemed to shake the walls. Her thighs trembled as she rode out her orgasm.
Then suddenly, her body convulsed with even greater intensity. Her eyes flew open wide, her mouth forming a perfect O as her hips bucked violently against her hand. A powerful stream of pink fluid erupted from between her legs, arcing through the air before splashing against the porcelain tub. The liquid gushed in pulses, each one accompanied by a desperate cry from her throat.
I watched in awe as the jets sprayed across the bathroom, spilling over her thighs, the edge of the tub, on the floor and also the wall. I could even smell the musk from here.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Oh… fuck!”
I’d never heard my mother swear like that before. When the final spasms subsided, she collapsed back against the tub, and in that moment, I lost control. Pleasure surged through me as I came in my pants, biting my lip to keep silent, my body jerking as I felt my warm cum against my thigh.
I backed away quickly, heading downstairs on shaky legs. I slipped outside, closed the door, and then I drew in a deep breath to calm myself.
I opened it again, but a bit louder this time.
“Mom, I’m home!” I called out, trying to sound normal despite the uncomfortable dampness in my underwear.
“Hi, sweetie. I’m in the bathroom!” she called back. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
I stood awkwardly in the hallway, not sure what to do with myself.
Her footsteps padded down the stairs a few minutes later. She was wrapped in her bathrobe, her hair damp around her shoulders, smelling like honey and shampoo. “What happened? Did something go wrong with Julia?”
I swallowed hard, avoiding her eyes. “She got sick. Had to cancel.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” She moved to hug me, but I stepped back, not wanting her to feel the blotch of cum in my pants.
“It’s fine,” I said quickly. “I’m going to change and maybe watch something in my room.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her brow furrowed with concern.
“Yeah, just disappointed about the date.”
“Alright, it’s fine,” she said with a smile.
I hurried to my bedroom and closed the door, stripping off my soiled clothes. As I changed, the image of my mother in ecstasy flashed through my mind. Her perfect breasts, her pink flesh and the way she’d touched herself…
I fell back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I had to admit two things, even if it was shameful. She was hot as hell, and that orgasm felt pretty damn good.
To be continued
If you’d like to support my writing, you can purchase full-length incest novels with deeper storytelling and stronger character development here: Mom son incest eBooks.
Or if you want to read part 2, click here: I Fingered My Mother