The Forbidden Between Mother and Son During the Lockdown

The bathroom mirror reflected her usual image: a forty-four-year-old woman, five foot four, with wide hips and a flat stomach. Her dark hair, still damp from the shower, fell over her shoulders. Her breasts were large, with dark, well-defined nipples. The firm legs of someone who had not given up the gym in years. Elena looked at herself and thought she was in good shape, though lately no one besides her son looked at her.

They had been locked in for weeks. The lockdown had suspended time inside that flat, reduced the world to four rooms, dissolved the distances that had once kept them apart without either of them acknowledging it. Now that distance no longer existed. Elena did not know exactly when it had vanished, but she also felt no need to rebuild it.

Her hand went of its own accord to her crotch. She had her sex completely shaved, the lips clearly defined. She stayed like that for a moment, standing in front of the mirror, feeling that familiar heat that had been appearing every morning for weeks before going to wake her son.

She put on a skimpy black thong. The robe over it. She left the bathroom barefoot and crossed the hallway in silence.

Diego’s bedroom door was ajar. Elena pushed it open slowly and saw him asleep on his back, arms spread, wearing only gray briefs. Twenty-one years old, pale skin, a body built by steady weight training: defined abs, broad chest, wide shoulders. Elena remained in the doorway longer than was reasonable. She looked at him with that mix of pride and something darker that had been growing during the lockdown, almost without her asking for it.

She walked over. Sat on the edge of the bed. Rested her open hand on Diego’s abdomen, on the warm skin, and slid it downward without rushing. When she reached the fabric of his briefs, she felt what was beneath.

Diego opened his eyes. He looked at her without surprise.

“Good morning,” she said softly, and carefully pulled down his briefs.

“Good morning, Mom,” he replied, his voice still rough with sleep.

Elena took him in her hand and began to masturbate him slowly. Diego watched her without speaking. She slipped out of the robe, letting it fall to the floor, lay down beside him, and kept going without letting go of him.

They kissed. The kiss lasted. Their tongues met unhurriedly, with that familiarity they had built over weeks, and they only parted when Diego lowered his head and sought one of her breasts. He took the dark nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.

Elena closed her eyes and let him. There was something about that mouth on her nipple that undid her in a way nothing else did: a mixture of physical pleasure and something older, deeper, that she did not quite know how to name. She felt the wetness between her legs, her pulse speeding in her temples.

Diego left her breast and began to move down her body. He kissed her stomach, licked her navel, kept descending. He slipped off her thong without haste. When he reached her crotch, he found her wet and open. He began to lick her calmly, parting her lips with his tongue, circling her clit. It swelled under his tongue, swollen and sensitive. Elena clamped her thighs around his head and arched her back.

“Put it in me,” she begged, her voice tight.

Diego sat up. He arranged her with her legs resting over his shoulders, in the position he knew she preferred, and entered her slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, until he was completely inside. Elena exhaled slowly.

Then he began to move.

The thrusts were deep and rhythmic. Elena took them with her eyes closed, completely focused on the sensation. She thought, not for the first time, of the bed they were on: her son’s bed, where he had slept as a child, where he had studied and dreamed, and where he now fucked her with eagerness. That thought added a layer of perversion she could not and did not want to analyze.

They kissed without stopping the motion. Diego pushed with rhythm, with determination. Elena came with a moan she tried to suppress by biting her lip. The walls of her vagina tightened around him. Diego felt it and thrust harder, drawing a deep, hoarse sound from her throat.

“Yes... my boy...” she panted.

He waited for her to finish. Then he pulled out and sat on her stomach. Elena took her own breasts in both hands and pressed them around him, enclosing him. She began to move slowly.

“Are you going to cum on Mom’s tits?” she asked, looking at him.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice taut.

Diego did not last long. The semen came hot and in waves, staining her breasts. He leaned forward and licked them without the slightest hesitation, cleaning them with his tongue. After that they lay down side by side, and Elena’s hand traced slow circles over his back.

***

The lockdown had altered their rhythms. There were days when they sought each other three times before dark, in different corners of the flat, without excuse or protocol. That same morning, after breakfast, they ended up in the shower.

Elena lathered her hands and ran them over Diego’s shoulders, chest, and abdomen. He did the same to her: covered her breasts, stomach, thighs, and buttocks in foam. Hot water poured over them both. When they rinsed off, he was hard again and she felt that heat between her legs that had nothing to do with the water.

If this was so wrong, why did it feel so good?

Elena could not find an answer that satisfied her. And she was not looking very hard for one either. Diego’s fingers found her crotch. She responded by taking him in her hand and masturbating him slowly under the water while they kissed. He pinched her nipples between his fingers until he felt them harden beneath his fingertips.

He turned her gently. He pressed her against the cold tile wall. He spread her legs and stood behind her.

He entered her slowly.

The walls of her vagina took him in with that warm pressure he already knew well. Diego held her hips and began to thrust. Elena’s buttocks bounced against his abdomen with each stroke. The water kept falling over them, but they no longer noticed it.

Diego pressed his chest to her back. He found Elena’s neck with his lips, kissed it, nibbled it softly. She tilted her head to one side, giving him more room, feeling her son’s warm breath on the nape of her neck each time he pulled away to breathe. Diego’s hand circled her body and gripped one of her breasts. He squeezed it. Elena rested her forehead against the tile.

“Mom... I’m going to cum,” he said, his voice at her ear.

“Cum inside,” she answered. “I want to feel you.”

Diego let go. The orgasm came hard, and Elena felt it spread inside her with that heat that made her shudder. Her own came almost at the same time, with a tremor that ran from her legs all the way down. Diego withdrew slowly. She turned and kissed him on the mouth, calmly.

The water and soap took care of the rest.

***

They ate unhurriedly, talked little, and rested. That was the rhythm of those days without schedules or obligations. Elena fell asleep with her hand resting on Diego’s chest, listening to his breathing.

After the nap, she went to the living room.

Diego was sitting on the sofa in black boxer briefs with the television on. Elena came over wearing a white cotton robe and sat beside him. She waited only a few seconds before starting.

She started with his neck. A slow kiss, her nose brushing behind his ear. Diego switched off the television without saying anything and turned toward her. He answered with a kiss on the mouth and slipped his hand between the opening of her robe. He found one of her nipples and rubbed it with his fingers until he felt it harden.

“Eat them,” she whispered, opening her robe.

Diego lowered his head and licked both breasts before taking one of the dark nipples into his mouth. He sucked hard on it. Elena, with her hand, felt the bulge growing inside his boxer briefs. Through the fabric she could feel the heat, the pressure, the size.

She straddled him. Through the fabric of his boxer briefs and the white thong she was wearing, both of them felt the heat radiating from the other. They kissed for a long time. Diego lowered his head again to her breasts, licking and biting them with that focus she found irresistible.

When the clothes started to get in the way, they took them off without fuss. Diego pulled her thong down her thighs slowly. Elena pulled down his boxer briefs. They lay down on the sofa.

Elena positioned herself over him, inverted. Diego drove his tongue into her crotch, parting her lips, carefully circling her clit. She tilted her head and ran her tongue the length of his cock, from base to glans. She kissed it. She took it into her mouth and sucked.

The sounds in the living room were only theirs.

Elena pressed her lips and took him deep, while Diego kept licking and parting her with his fingers. They both gave each other pleasure with their mouths at the same time, unhurried, completely absorbed in one another. Now and then one of them would moan, and the sound would be muffled by what was in their mouth.

They changed positions. Elena got onto all fours on the sofa cushions. Diego knelt behind her. It was his favorite position: the one that gave him the deepest penetration, the most control, and let him see how his mother’s buttocks responded to every thrust. He entered her. He gripped her hips and began the movement: deep, rhythmic, steady.

“Ohhh... don’t stop,” she begged, her cheek pressed against the sofa back.

Diego increased the pace. The thrusts became harder, faster, and every so often he gave her buttocks a light slap with his open palm. Elena responded with a deep sound from her throat that he already knew well.

She slid a hand between her legs and began to touch herself while he fucked her. The double stimulation was enough. The orgasm came in long waves, and she bit the sofa cushion to muffle the sound. It was not only physical pleasure; it was also the thought that came with it: that he was her own son, that it was forbidden, that they were alone in the world and that this freed them from any other consideration.

When she finished, Diego sat on the sofa with his legs open. Elena knelt on the floor between his knees. She took him in her hand, licked him from top to bottom, tasting herself on him. Then she took him into her mouth, slowly at first, then with more determination.

“Cum in my mouth, baby,” she said, looking him in the eyes before continuing.

She took him in again. Diego did not last long. When the orgasm came, Elena did not pull away. She took it all, held it in her tongue for a moment, and swallowed. She felt the heat going down her throat.

She stood and sat down beside him. They kissed tenderly. Their hands intertwined over his thigh.

“I love you, Mom,” Diego said.

“I love you too, son,” she replied.

Outside, the lockdown continued. Inside, time passed in a different way, and neither of them had any intention of looking for a way back.