What Happened With My Mother on That Endless Flight

Every summer, as long as I can remember, my family and I would escape together for a few days. It was our way of unplugging from obligations, of forgetting about the laundry, meals, and schedules, and of spending real time with one another. This year, however, we decided the trip would be different.

My name is Bruno and I’m twenty-one years old. I’ve never complained about the way life has treated me. I’m dark-haired, with light eyes, and I’m almost six feet tall. The gym and football have given me a body I’m not ashamed of, and as far as women go, let’s just say I haven’t done badly either. I’ve got a well-endowed cock, and the girls at university like checking it out. But none of that is relevant yet.

As for my family, I’ll start with my father. The typical busy businessman glued to his phone, the kind who rarely has a long conversation with us. He’s doing well for himself, that much has to be said, and thanks to him and my mother we’ve never lacked for anything. My mother has told me what he was like when he was younger, but it seems there’s very little left of that man now.

My sister Natalia is twenty-four and is studying for a master’s degree in business, just as my mother did in her day. She doesn’t hold back when she speaks and has earned everything through sharp talk and cheek. It’s ugly to say it being her brother, but Natalia is the kind of woman who stops traffic. She has a figure you can’t help noticing, and she knows it, because she dresses to make sure of it.

And last there’s my mother, Marina. A successful businesswoman, not famous, but very respected in her field. She runs a communications agency, and if Natalia’s achievements are something to be proud of, my mother’s are on another level. She’s always getting calls, always has something on the go, and I’m not surprised. She’s intelligent, determined, and, I’ll say it plainly, a very attractive woman. Time hasn’t taken anything from her; on the contrary, it has given her a confidence that shows in the way she walks into a room and in how everyone turns their heads when she does. Big firm tits, a round ass, and long legs that have made me jerk off more times than I’m willing to admit.

This year we decided to spend a bit more than usual and book a luxury resort in southern Thailand. I didn’t even really know where that was, but from what people said it was something out of the ordinary. My mother and sister handled most of the planning, excited to debut new outfits and enjoy a week without a schedule. My father seemed indifferent, although I knew deep down he was looking forward to a change of scene.

The trip would last almost all of August, and the week before we spent packing. I wasn’t planning on taking much: just enough to survive and my toiletry bag. My father did more or less the same, plus his laptop so he could keep handling work matters during the holiday, as if he knew how to think about nothing else. The women, on the other hand, each filled a suitcase with clothes, shoes, and a thousand other things, to the point that the zippers looked ready to burst.

On the day of the flight we were all dressed appropriately. I was in light summer clothes, with my headphones hanging around my neck for the trip. I thanked heaven that the destination would be hot, because that meant that for a whole month I’d get to see the two most spectacular women I knew parading around in swimsuits. My sister looked a bit more sporty, in shorts that clung to her like a second skin and outlined her ass as if she were naked. My mother wore a light white summer outfit, with a neckline that left little to the imagination and showed half a tit every time she bent down to pick something up.

Just before boarding they assigned our seats. To my surprise, my father and sister had been placed at opposite ends of the plane, while my mother and I had been seated together.

Seventeen hours beside her.

I wasn’t sure whether it was good luck or bad.

***

The flight was one of the long ones, almost seventeen hours without a stop. She sat by the window, I was in the middle, and to my right was a stranger who fell asleep before takeoff. From my seat the views were good, but every time I turned my head toward the window my gaze ended up on my mother’s neckline, on those two tits rising and falling with her breathing and trembling slightly with every bit of turbulence. I could make out the edge of her lace bra, and I tried to estimate the size of her nipples beneath the fabric.

During the first two hours we took the opportunity to eat something while chatting. It was also the first time I’d tried alcohol on a plane: since it was a long-haul flight, they offered wine, and we ordered a glass each.

—I like being able to start seeing you as an adult —she told me, smiling over the rim of her glass.

—About time —I replied—. I’ve been one for a while.

She laughed, and the sound felt more intimate than usual, maybe because of the dim cabin light or the constant hum of the engines that seemed to isolate us from the rest of the world.

We talked about many things, and at some point I dared to ask her how things were going with Dad. Her expression changed. She lowered her eyes to her glass and took a while to answer.

—Not as well as I’d like —she said at last—. Over the last few years something between us has faded away. We’ve become two people who share a house and little else.

—And since when is that? —I asked, not really sure I had the right to pry.

—For far too long. —She sighed—. Sometimes I feel very alone, Bruno. He’s always busy, you all have your own lives, which is normal, and I... well, I’m left in the middle of it all with no one to really talk to.

—And in bed? —I blurted out, emboldened by the wine, without thinking.

She choked a little and looked at me sideways, half scandalized, half amused.

—Bruno...

—Sorry, I shouldn’t have...

—He hasn’t touched me in bed for more than a year —she whispered, staring fixedly into the bottom of her glass—. And when he did, it wasn’t anything special either. There, I’ve said it.

My mouth went dry. For a moment I thought she was going to cry. Without really thinking, I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward me in a hug, trying to comfort her.

—Don’t worry, Mom —I told her, my hand over hers—. I’m going to be here for you the whole trip. You’ve got me for whatever you need.

—Thank you so much, darling —she murmured, and hugged me back.

It was a hug that lasted a little longer than a hug between mother and son usually does. I felt her hair against my cheek, the warm scent of her neck, the curve of her tits pressed against my side. When we finally pulled apart, both of us smiled as if nothing had happened, but my heart was beating a little harder than I would have liked to admit, and my cock was starting to stir inside my pants.

***

After a while my mother got up to say hello to my father and sister, who were at the far end, and to use the bathroom. The seats weren’t exactly spacious, and to get out she had to pass in front of me. As she did, her body brushed mine from top to bottom, and I felt her hips slide at the level of my crotch, dragging across the bulge that was already growing beneath the fabric. It lasted a second, no more, but it was a second that left me tense in my seat, my cock hard as a rock, suddenly thankful I’d been seated in the middle.

I tried to distract myself by looking out the window, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that brush of contact. I told myself it was nonsense, that the plane was narrow and it meant nothing. And yet I still couldn’t erase the sensation of her ass passing over my cock.

When she came back, the scene repeated itself. Only this time, just as she was passing in front of me, a bout of turbulence shook the plane. My mother lost her balance and fell hard, landing on my legs, all her weight rubbing against me before she could right herself.

I felt her two cheeks press against my cock, firm and warm through the thin fabric of her pants. It was inevitable: my dick throbbed inside my underwear and got rock hard in an instant, betraying me without my being able to do anything to stop it. She didn’t get up right away. She stayed there for half a second longer than necessary, and I’d swear she moved her hips just an inch, pressing her ass against the hard bulge I had right beneath her. A minimal movement, but one that felt like an electric shock from the head of my cock all the way to the nape of my neck.

When she finally managed to stand and return to her seat, her cheeks were flushed and she avoided meeting my eyes.

—Sorry —she said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear—. These planes...

—It’s nothing —I replied, my throat dry and my cock throbbing against the zipper.

We both pretended nothing had happened. She buckled her seatbelt, I pretended to focus on the screen in the seat in front of me. But the air between us had changed. I felt it the way you feel electricity before a storm, that tension that raises the hair on your skin without you quite knowing where it comes from.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched her. Her neckline was a little more open than before, as if she were hot, and she slowly fanned herself with the safety card. I lowered my gaze for just a moment, enough to confirm what I already suspected: beneath the white fabric, her nipples stood out hard, thick, unmistakable, two rigid points pushing against the bra as if they wanted to break through it.

They must be my imagination.

I put on my headphones and turned the volume up, trying to create some distance, trying to convince myself that all of it was nothing more than the product of fatigue, wine, and the hours trapped in that cabin. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t sleep. The image of my mother falling onto me, the weight of her ass crushing my cock, her blush as she stood up, her hard nipples beneath her blouse, all of it kept repeating behind my eyelids. A drop of pre-cum was leaking into my underwear, I could feel the wetness sticking to the head, and I had to resist the urge to put my hand down inside my pants to adjust my cock.

***

Over the next few hours we barely spoke. Not out of anger, but because of a kind of shared caution, as if the two of us knew that any word could push us into territory with no way back. Every so often I felt her looking at me; when I turned, she would look away toward the window too quickly for it to seem casual. A couple of times I thought I caught her eyeing the bulge still marking my crotch, and each time she would run her tongue over her lower lip before looking away.

At some point, with the cabin lights off and most of the passengers asleep, I felt her move beside me. I had drifted half asleep, with one arm resting on the shared armrest. Her hand settled over mine, light, almost like an accident. She didn’t pull away. Neither did I.

—Are you awake? —she whispered.

—Yes —I answered just as softly.

She stayed silent for a few seconds. Under the blanket she’d draped over herself, her fingers slowly intertwined with mine.

—Thanks for earlier —she said—. For listening to me. It’s been a long time since anyone made me feel... accompanied.

—I already told you. I’m here.

Her fingers squeezed mine and, very slowly, they started to move. They guided my hand under the blanket, took it over her own thigh, and left it there, over the thin fabric of her pants. I felt the heat of her skin through the cloth, the firmness of the muscle, and my pulse hammered in my temples.

I didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

After a few seconds, her hand let go of mine and withdrew, leaving mine there alone on her thigh so I could decide what to do. She knew perfectly well what she was doing. She was offering me the wheel.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I could pull back, pretend it had never happened. Or I could slide upward. I chose the second.

I moved my fingers with extreme slowness, millimeter by millimeter, toward the inside of her thigh. My mother held her breath. When I reached the softest, warmest part, I felt her part her legs slightly beneath the blanket, inviting me to continue. The pad of my thumb brushed the seam of the crotch of her pants and I noticed it was wet. Soaked.

—Fuck, Mom —I whispered, almost voiceless.

—Shhh —she murmured, eyes closed—. Don’t talk. Don’t talk.

I pressed two fingers against the damp fabric and she gave a small jolt, biting her lip to keep from making a sound. I started rubbing slowly, up and down, feeling the bulge of her cunt mark hotly under her clothes, feeling the wetness spread until it soaked the tips of my fingers. She moved her hips barely at all, a tiny sway that in the darkness of the cabin seemed obscene.

Her free hand searched beneath the blanket and found my cock. She grabbed it over my pants, squeezed, measured its shape with her palm as if she needed to really confirm what her son had hidden between his legs. She lowered the zipper with trembling fingers, slipped inside my underwear, and pulled me out halfway, wrapping her hand around me and starting to jerk me off very slowly, almost reverently, both of us sheltered by the blanket.

—My God —she gasped quietly into my ear—. It’s beautiful, darling. So thick, so hard...

I pulled back the fabric of my pants, slipped my hand inside, and finally found her naked cunt. It was shaved, swollen, dripping. I slid a finger between her lips and she shuddered all over. I found the clit, a rock-hard little button, and started drawing slow circles while I pushed my middle finger inside her. She swallowed me up to the knuckles, clenching around me in spasms that matched the rhythm of her ragged breathing.

—Don’t stop —she pleaded into my ear—. Please, don’t stop.

I added a second finger. I fucked her with my hand under the blanket, slowly, twisting my wrist, while she jerked my cock with a firm fist, up and down, using the bead of pre-cum at the tip to slick her whole palm. Her other hand found my head, pulled me toward her, and sank her teeth into my neck to muffle the moan when the first orgasm ripped through her. I felt her clench around my fingers inside, contracting again and again around my knuckles, while a warm gush soaked my whole palm.

Before she could recover, she doubled the pace on my cock. She pumped me fast, her hand closed tight, her fist slick with her own juices, and I had to clench my teeth not to groan out loud. I felt the tingling rise from my balls, the load gathering at the base of my dick, and in a matter of seconds I was coming under the blanket, blasting ropes that fell over her hand, over her thigh, over the dark fabric covering both of us. She kept jerking me slowly, milking me to the last drop, while whispering in my ear.

—That’s it, darling. All for Mom. All the cum for Mom.

When she finally stopped, she brought her hand to her mouth without a moment’s hesitation. Eyes closed, she sucked the semen from her fingers one by one, tasting me as if it were something she’d been waiting years to try. I watched her in the dim light, breathing hard and with my cock still out of my pants, throbbing sticky against my stomach.

When she was done, she pulled a tissue from the seat pocket, cleaned me carefully, tucked my cock back into my pants, and raised the zipper with a tenderness that contrasted with what she had just done to me.

She rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes, a small smile dancing on her lips. I stayed looking at the ceiling, my heart racing and one question going round and round in my head that I was no longer afraid to ask.

How far was I willing to go for the rest of the trip?

There were still many hours left before landing, and ahead of us we had a whole month in that resort, far from everything, far from everyone. Something told me that that night, ten thousand meters up in the air, we had crossed a line we could no longer pretend didn’t exist. And from the way my hand was still trembling, her smell clinging to my fingers, we didn’t want to pretend either.