My Son's Huge Coc

I was riddled with shame in the hours that followed me spying on my son masturbating. It was not something a mother should do. It was depraved and wrong. I promised myself that I would never do anything like it again. And yet, in the days that followed, I found myself thinking about my son more and more. No matter what I tried to busy myself with, images of his tremendous cock flooded my mind.

I pictured his rock-hard abs, his bulging biceps, his muscular legs, his tight buttocks, his big heavy balls, and his huge, thick cock. I saw his closed eyes, his face contorted with pleasure as his dick spasmed and shot his cream all over the shower wall. I imagined myself on my knees, his endless streams of cum flying all over my face and breasts. And I found myself getting wet at the thought. I pleasured myself countless times over the memory.

Whenever I saw my baby boy around the house I was reminded of what I'd seen in the shower. Sometimes it even seemed like he knew. There was something in the way he looked at me across the dinner table, or in the garden. It was the kind of look that told me he knew a secret I'd rather he didn't know. When I saw that knowing grin on his face I wondered if perhaps he had seen me through the gap in the door after all. But no, of course, he hadn't. He would have said something if he had.

I got home from work on Tuesday evening and dropped my bag on the kitchen table. It had been one hell of a day. My team had spent all week preparing for a huge presentation that we were delivering to the board. The presentation was tomorrow so we'd spent the whole day running around like headless chickens to put the final touches on it. Now, more than anything else, I needed a very large glass of wine.

I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and pulled a bottle of red off the rack. Just as I was pouring the delicious red liquid into the glass I remembered that I'd forgotten to load the laundry this morning and my outfit for work was still dirty.

"Oh, Jesus and his 10 bells!" I complained as I plonked the bottle on the counter and hurried out to the laundry room.

I was greeted by the sight of my son, Tristan, standing shirtless at one end of the room, curling dumbbells.

"Tristan, I didn't know you were in here," I said, suddenly finding myself flustered for no good reason. Seeing him work out made him look so manly in ways his father had never looked.

Tristan seemed to pick up on my demeanor and he smirked in that way I was becoming all too familiar with. The smirk that made me think he had seen me watching him in the shower.

"I always work out after school, Mom," he said a little breathlessly.

He must have been working out for a while because his torso glistened with a thin coat of sweat. His muscles bulged as he moved. His chest alone looked like it could take me and an army of strangers on at the same time. His big biceps rippled as he lifted the heavy weights. His abs flinched as he brought them down slowly in front of his body.

"Okay then," I said in a small voice. I tore my eyes away from him before they drifted further south.

I bent over and grabbed the laundry bag and began rummaging through it to find tomorrow's outfit. Behind me, I heard my son's labored breathing as he pumped iron. I hazarded a glance back at him and saw that his eyes were locked on me. I looked back at the laundry quickly.

Had he been staring at my ass?

I continued rummaging, a little thrill running through me at the thought that my son might be staring at my derriere. I gave my tush a subtle wiggle before finding what I was looking for and standing up straight.

I took my time loading the machine, stealing sneaky glances at Tristan. He was no longer staring at me. He was looking down at the weights in his hands. My gaze traveled down to his loose black shorts and I was disappointed to see that no bulge was visible through the material.

"What do you fancy for dinner?" I asked, starting the machine and turning to face my ripped son.

He dropped the dumbbells and lay down on the bench. "Hmm," he pondered, wrapping his thick fingers around the barbell. I imagined those fingers gripping his cock which was easily twice as thick as the bar in his hands. "Something with sausages maybe. I'm in the mood for sausages. How about you, Mom?" As he lifted the barbell off the wrack, he turned his head to look at me, that shit-eating grin on his face once again.

I met his gaze and my tongue flicked across my lips unconsciously. "Yeah, I'm in the mood for sausage," I replied.

He looked up at the ceiling, spreading his legs wider as he struggled with the weight. "Sausage it is then," he grunted.

I left the laundry room wondering if that had been an innocent conversation about dinner or a filthy innuendo. I found myself hoping for the latter.

I finished pouring that glass of wine and settled down on the couch. I flicked on the TV to unwind for a bit before I started dinner. My mind drifted to thoughts of Tristan and his delicious body, panting away covered in sweat just a few meters away. As I turned up the volume on my TV show, I absent-mindedly began to play with my breasts. I closed my eyes in glee as I squeezed the fleshy globes and imagined my son was doing it. I could almost feel him biting down on them as he sucked on them. My middle finger and thumb pinched one nipple between the both of them as I rubbed it, feeling it stiffen in my fingers.

I shuddered as I felt my body respond, feeling an ache between my legs. My free hand moved from its resting place on the couch and slowly descended to my clothed groin. I rubbed myself lightly through the fabric of my jeans, imagining what Tristan would feel like if he were here doing this instead.

I was pulled out of my lusty daydream when my husband arrived home from work. I downed the remainder of my wine before grabbing Mark's hand and dragging him upstairs. I rode him relentlessly, picturing my son the entire time, until I orgasmed explosively all over my husband's underwhelming cock.

*

Two days later I was feeling much more relaxed. The presentation at work had gone amazingly well. I'd received a bonus for my hard work and was due to receive a pay bump too. I'd booked a personal day so I could squeeze in some self-care to help me relax after the stressful couple of weeks I'd had. The first part of a self-care day was waking up late. Of course, Mark had woken up when he got up for work, but I'd simply gone back to sleep as soon as he'd left the room.

I slept like a log and it was gone 10 am when I finally woke up properly. As I lay there in bed, I stretched my limbs, enjoying the softness of the sheets against my skin. My thoughts drifted to the past week and my conflicted feelings towards Tristan. The way he looked at me made my stomach turn with desire and yet repulsed me at the same time. I couldn't deny the hunger for his big, thick cock that had stirred inside me.

I shook my head, trying to dispel those thoughts from my mind as I got out of bed. Today was supposed to be a day of relaxation, not one of depraved lust. Those thoughts and feelings were wrong on every level. Maybe after a day of self-care, I would be able to get my head in order and finally stop having such perverted desires.

I climbed out of bed and the sun crept through the gap in the curtains and warmed my naked body. The first thing I needed was a steaming cup of coffee. I pulled on my dressing gown and padded downstairs. The lay-in had done me wonders and I didn't yawn even once as I made myself a coffee.

As I carried my coffee through to the living room I heard the sound of the TV drifting down the hall. Mark was at work and the kids were at school so there was nobody home to be watching TV. I tutted and shook my head. Somebody had left it on. Honestly, kids had no regard for energy bills.

I pushed open the door only to see my son lounging across the couch in just his boxer shorts. He didn't look very surprised to see me. He turned his head lazily and smiled. "Oh hey, Mom. Why aren't you at work?"

"I took a personal day," I said. I took a seat on the other couch, trying to resist the urge to look at his body. "Why aren't you at school?"

"Some issue with the power. School's shut today," he said with a shrug.

He didn't bother sitting up, he remained lying down, his body spread over the entire couch. One hand was rested behind his head, the bicep on his arm tight and bulging. A tuft of dark hair covered his armpit. I swallowed as I eyed that armpit, the growth of hair was strangely sexy. He wasn't a boy anymore. At some point, without me noticing, he'd grown into a man. His chest looked as firm as metal, the ridges of his abs were toned and strong.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts as I took a sip of coffee. How was it possible that a mother could be so incredibly tempted by her son?

I could see a bulge in his boxer shorts, straining against the thin material. Beneath the cloth, Tristan's monster was sleeping and I could see its thick outline resting on his thigh.

"You okay?" Tristan asked.

I glanced up quickly and saw his smirking face looking back at me. There was no doubt that he'd caught me looking this time.

"Oh, yes. I zoned out. Daydreaming," I sputtered as I brought my cup to my lips for another sip of coffee.

"Daydreaming about what?" he asked. He spread his legs wider, presenting his tantalizing package to me even more. I fought against the desire to look.

Ignoring his question, I turned my attention to the TV. He was watching wrestling. I sighed in my displeasure. I'd never understood what he liked about it. It was so obviously staged to the point of embarrassment.

"Tristan, why must you watch this? It's absolute trash," I said.

"No more trash than the vapid reality TV shows you watch. Honestly, that stuff will empty your head until you're a mindless goon," he said with a snort.

"Tristan!" I said. "Do not speak to your mother that way."

He was completely unfazed by my scolding and gave me an amused look. "Oh, come on, Mom. You know I'm right. Besides, I'm too big for you to tell off now. I'm the biggest in the house now, I'm pretty much the man of the house. I should be giving the orders and the tellings off."

Although he was chuckling as he spoke, when he looked my way there was a definite dominance in his gaze that sent a shiver of arousal through me. He wasn't wrong either. He'd surpassed his father's height two years ago and his considerable muscles left me in no doubt that he could overpower Mark with ease.

"Give me the remote so I can put something good on," I said, holding out my hand.

"No, I'm watching this," he argued.

"Who is in charge here, young man?" I demanded, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't know, Mom, who is in charge?" He gave me a defiant grin as he stared back at me, challenging my authority as his mother.

I stared back, lost for words. Thankfully, before I needed to say anything, he held out the remote to me in surrender.

"Thank you," I said. But I spoke too soon.

He released his grip, letting the remote slip from his hand and fall to the ground in front of him. "Oops, my bad."

He gave a Cheshire cat grin and spread his legs out as he leaned back on the couch. I had a clear view of his bulging crotch, the outline of his cock could be seen very clearly through those thin boxer shorts. he knew exactly what he was doing.

My arm was trembling slightly as I put my coffee down, although I wasn't sure exactly why. I stood up and went over to his couch, bending over to grab the remote from the floor. As I lowered towards the floor I glanced at his displayed crotch. From my new position, I could see right up the leg of his boxer shorts. His soft cock was draped over his thigh, its head pointing right at me. My view wasn't great but the small amount I could see made me lick my dry lips.

I heard him chuckle and knew I'd been caught. I turned beet red from embarrassment, snatched the remote off the floor, and straightened up. When I was sitting back on the couch I looked back at my son and saw that his eyes were wide and fixed on my chest.

"Oh!" I said when I saw that my gown had slipped open and exposed my large breasts to him. "I'm sorry, Tris, I didn't realize."

"No problem, Mom," he said, smirking still. I really wanted to wipe that grin off his face. It made me feel so small and uneasy to be looked at with that expression.

"I should go shower anyway," Tristan said before getting up and heading upstairs.

I breathed a sigh of relief after he'd left. Finally, I could relax and drink my coffee. This bizarre situation I'd found myself in as of late was just too much. Something had to be done before things went to place there was no coming back from.

*

Over the following days, Tristan's cocky behavior only got worse. When I'd bent down in front of him to pick up the remote, he seemed to have taken that as an act of submission. He spoke to me with an air of authority and dominated any space that the two of us ever shared alone. His behavior was so subtle that it was hard to tell if I was imagining it. At times I thought that maybe I was seeing only what I wanted to see. Perhaps in the darkest most depraved part of my mind, I longed to be dominated by my son. Then the weekend came and I knew that I was imagining nothing.

Mark -- who Tristan was always respectful in front of -- had taken Erin out to look at cars. Her 20th birthday was approaching and we'd promised her her own car. Tristan was still sleeping, so I did a bit of housework and then sat down in the living room to watch some of the reality TV that my son hated so much.

It wasn't long before I heard my son's footsteps on the stairs. Since we were home alone I knew that I was about to be subjected to his cheeky behavior, but I was not prepared for what happened.

The living room door swung open and Tristan strolled in full of his usual swagger. Except this time he was butt naked. He walked across the room, his long cock swinging between his legs. His big arms swung with extra cockiness.

"Tristan, you're naked!" I gasped, blushing like a tomato.

He stood there and stared back at me with a defiant smile, planting his hands on his hips and almost jutting his groin forward to accentuate it.

"Can't a man relax in his own home?" he asked as he flopped down on the sofa. His cock bounced and flopped down onto his big balls with a small slapping sound.

I stared at him in open-mouthed surprise. "Tristan this is completely inappropriate," I said. Even as I protested I could feel my arousal growing, knowing that my son was willingly naked in front of me.

"Oh, come on, Mom. I've seen you sneaking peeks. You're not very sneaky." He winked at me like I was one of the girls in his class or something, and not his mother.

"What do you mean, Tris," I said, trying to play dumb. It was better than admitting that he was right.

"Yeah, what do I mean? Well, there was the time when you kept looking at my bulge when I was wearing my undies. The time when I was working out. Oh, yeah, and when you spied on me taking a shower."

"No...I...what you...." I stammered and spluttered, feeling my face burn with the shame of a person who has been caught red-handed. Seeing me squirm shifted the power to Tristan completely.

"Just admit it, Mom. Admit that you're obsessed with my dick." He took hold of his floppy cock and wiggled it at me. I was powerless to stop myself from staring at the fat piece of meat in his fingers.

"Your dad will be back soon," I said in a feeble whisper. I looked up at his face and saw him grinning confidently at me.

"Dad won't be home until dinner time. He said they're looking at showrooms all over the city." Tristan stood up and spread his legs wide so I could see his genitals hanging between them. He planted his hands on his hips as he enjoyed watching my discomfort.

I squeezed my legs together and tried to quell the warmth that was growing there. "Tristan," I mumbled.

"Just admit it. Admit you've been looking," he said and started to touch himself.

I sat there in disbelief as I watched my son play with himself mere feet away from me. He had me under his complete control, and it felt amazing. My pussy began to throb as I watched him.

"Fine. I looked." Maybe if I admitted it he'd stop and I could escape this situation before it went too far. Deep down I didn't want to escape at all.

"Why?" he asked. His cock started growing as he stroked it back and forth. His impressive dick stirred as if it had been languidly dreaming, swelling to its full length with increasing insistence. Its circumference became rounder and fatter until it stood proudly pointing at me.

I took a deep breath as I tried to figure out what to say. It was impossible to think with that gigantic tool in front of me "I... I guess I was just surprised and intrigued."

He smiled, seemingly satisfied by my answer, and stopped playing with himself. His member had grown incredibly thick. He took a step forward and his dick bobbed excitedly. "Why?" he asked again.

"Because it's so big," I said without hesitation. His eyes lit up at my admission and he took another step closer.

"Bigger than Dad's?"

"Bigger than any I've ever seen."

He took another step forwards and his dick was right in front of my face now, hovering so close to my nose that I could smell it. I was trembling with anticipation, excitement, and fear.

"Tristan, go and get dressed," I said with not a hint of conviction. I knew that if I told him to leave, he wouldn't. He just stood there staring at me with a smirk on his face. In all honesty, I didn't really want him to leave.

There was a moment of silence as we both stared into each other's eyes before he finally spoke again.

"Kiss it," he said quietly but with absolute authority.

"Tristan..." I tried to protest.

"Do it," he commanded.

I swallowed hard, unable to disobey his tone. I leaned forward and planted a small kiss on the tip of his cock. He groaned in response and I felt his member twitch against my lips. My heart was pounding with excitement as I pulled away.

"Again," he said as his hand cupped my chin and guided me back onto the warmth of his flesh. This time when I kissed it, I lingered a little longer, letting my tongue explore the surface of his cockhead. He moaned again and I felt his hips thrust forwards ever so lightly, pressing against my lips.

Finally, I pulled away and breathed heavily as I looked up into his eyes. He smiled back at me, a satisfied look on his face. Then he nodded a silent command for me to continue. It was what I'd been dreaming about for weeks and I had no will to resist. My pussy grew wet as I used my hands to grip his length and began slowly stroking him, my lips never leaving the tip. He let out a deep sigh of pleasure as I ran my tongue around the circumference of his cockhead and felt him twitching in response.

His cock was so heavy and hard in my hand. I'd never felt one so weighty before. I couldn't even get my fingers all the way around it. All I could do was marvel at its size as it throbbed in my hands.

"Mom," he whispered in a lustful tone as I drew my tongue across his head before planting a small kiss on it again.

I felt very submissive at that moment with his powerful body towering over me, watching me so intently with his hand entwined in my hair. I let out a little moan of pleasure myself as I opened my mouth and took him inside. I ran my tongue along his increasingly slick shaft as he thrust his hips forward, trying to get more of himself into my mouth.

I massaged my tongue over his cock in short little strokes that enticed him and made him thrust heavily, attempting to feed his prick into my mouth. He groaned as he watched his cock moving in and out of my mouth, growing increasingly wet from my saliva. He wasn't the only one growing wet. I reached down and rubbed my pussy through my clothes, I could feel the moisture seeping through the fabric.