Jake’s phone buzzed while he was still in the shower at the Bellagio.
Mom: Landing in 40. Don’t you dare put on underwear. Yes dear.
He stared at the message, cock already thickening against the tile. Twenty-four, six-three, thick nine-and-a-half inches that had been a running family joke since he was sixteen and his mother walked in on him. Linda was forty-eight, still tight from Pilates and spite after the divorce, and she had decided this Vegas weekend was going to be the one where they stopped pretending.
He dried off, pulled on only a pair of thin gray sweatpants that did nothing to hide the hanging weight of him, and went downstairs to meet her.
She came through the automatic doors in a black wrap dress that stopped mid-thigh and clung to every curve. No bra line. When she hugged him the dress rode up just enough that his hand on her lower back confirmed it: bare, shaved, already a little slick.
“Yes dear,” she murmured against his ear, the old teasing phrase she used whenever she was about to be filthy. “You followed instructions. Good boy.”
The elevator was glass. She stood in front of him, ass pressed to the outline of his cock, and reached back to give him one slow squeeze through the fabric.
“Huge,” she whispered. “Still can’t believe I made that.”
Their suite overlooked the Strip. The second the door clicked she dropped to her knees on the marble, yanked the sweatpants down, and took him out. His cock sprang up heavy, flushed, a thick vein running the underside, the head already wet.
Linda looked up at him the way she used to look at him across the dinner table when she was thinking something she shouldn’t. Then she opened her mouth and sank down.
She didn’t tease. She fed the first five inches straight to the back of her throat, gagged once, adjusted, and kept going until her nose was in his trimmed hair. Jake’s hands went to the back of her head. She hummed, the vibration traveling all the way down his shaft, and he started fucking her face the way she had asked for in the texts.
“Throat it, baby. Use Mommy’s throat.”
He did. Long strokes, holding her there, watching her eyes water and her lipstick smear down his length. Spit ran off her chin onto her tits. Every time he pulled back she gasped “yes dear” before he pushed in again. She reached between her own legs and rubbed herself with no shame while he used her mouth.
When he was close he pulled out and slapped the wet head against her tongue.
“Not yet. I want it in your ass first.”
Linda stood, turned, and bent over the back of the couch, dress hiked to her waist. Completely bare underneath, ass high, pussy shiny. She reached back and spread herself.
“Been thinking about this cock in my ass since you were nineteen and I saw you in the shower. Do it. Don’t be gentle.”
Jake spat on her hole, worked two fingers in until she was panting, then lined up. The head stretched her. She pushed back and took him in one long, shaking slide until his hips were flush with her ass.
“Fuck—yes dear—so full—”
He fucked her ass the way he had just fucked her throat: deep, steady, then harder. The wet slap of skin filled the suite. She came first, clenching around him so tight he almost lost it, then again when he reached around and rubbed her clit. He lasted until she was shaking and begging, then buried himself and came inside her ass in thick pulses she could feel.
They didn’t make it to the bedroom the first time. They did on the second, after she sucked him hard again and rode his face until he was dripping.
Sunday morning his co-worker Mark texted. Mark was twenty-eight, good-looking, the kind of guy who had caught Jake looking a second too long in the locker room after work. Bi-curious wasn’t a word Jake said out loud, but it sat in his chest every time Mark clapped him on the shoulder.
Linda saw the text over Jake’s shoulder.
“Invite him up. Mommy wants to see if that curiosity is real.”
Mark arrived in board shorts and a tank. Linda answered the door still in the wrap dress, no underwear, freshly fucked and smelling like it. She poured drinks. Within twenty minutes she had both of them on the couch and her hand in Jake’s sweats again.
“My son’s huge,” she told Mark, pulling Jake’s cock out. “Want to help Mommy take care of it?”
Mark’s eyes flicked from the thick cock to Jake’s face. Jake nodded once.
Mark leaned in and wrapped his lips around the head. Linda watched, stroking Mark’s hair, then joined him, both of them licking up the shaft, passing the head back and forth. Jake’s head dropped back. Two mouths on him—his mother’s and his co-worker’s—felt like something he had jerked off to in secret for years.
Linda pushed Mark’s head down until he was gagging on Jake the same way she had. Then she climbed onto the coffee table, presented her ass, and told them both to use her.
They did. Jake in her ass again, Mark in her mouth, then they switched. When Mark’s cock was in her throat Jake reached over and stroked it, curious, then leaned down and took the head in his own mouth for a few experimental sucks while his mother moaned around the rest. The taste, the weight, the way Mark’s hand tightened in his hair—it settled something in him.
They ended up on the bed, Linda on her back with her knees to her chest while Jake fucked her pussy and Mark fucked her ass at the same time, both cocks stretching her, both of them kissing over her body. She came so hard she cried. Jake came in her cunt. Mark pulled out and came on her tits and Jake’s cock still buried in her.
After, Linda licked them both clean, then looked at her son with that same dinner-table expression.
“Yes dear,” she said, voice wrecked. “We’re doing this every time I visit.”
They did it twice more before Mark left. Once more after he was gone, just mother and son, slower, Jake on his back while she sat on his face and then on his cock, telling him how proud she was of her well-hung boy and how she was never wearing underwear around him again.
When she flew home Monday she sent one last text from the airport.
Mom: Still dripping. Still no panties. Be ready next month. Yes dear.
Jake saved the message, palmed himself through his pants in the Uber back to his apartment, and started counting days.
