Sinful

It started small at first - a crude comment here, an inappropriate look there. Jake always had a bad temper, even as a boy, but I never imagined it would lead to this. Not my sweet boy.

After his father died, he changed. Became more aggressive, more demanding. I tried to be understanding, knowing he was grieving. But Jake's grief turned into anger, and that anger was directed at me.

I started wearing baggy clothes, covering up to avoid his hungry stares. But it didn't help. He'd follow me around the house, "accidentally" brushing against me, his hands lingering too long on my hips or arms. Making excuses to be in the bathroom while I showered, "forgetting" to knock.

I began to dread being alone with him. His eyes would bore into me, filled with a dark hunger that made me tremble. I started locking my door at night, praying it would keep him out. It didn't. He'd just bang on it until I finally opened it, and then he'd slip inside, crowding me against the wall with his large frame.

"Let me in, Mom," he'd growl, his voice thick with barely suppressed need. "I know you want me. I can see it in your face."

"Jake, stop it," I'd plead, but my voice would waver. I could feel myself responding to him, my body betraying me. He was so big now, so strong. And the way he looked at me, like he wanted to devour me whole...

One night, he caught me off guard in the kitchen. I was distracted, and he cornered me, pinning me against the counter with his hips. "I know you want me," he said again, his hand sliding up my thigh beneath my skirt. "You're just a cougar who needs a real man's cock."

I couldn't deny it any longer, not when he touched me like that. With a broken moan, I turned my head and kissed him back fiercely. He growled into my mouth, his hands roaming my body possessively as he hoisted me onto the table.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me already," Jake panted as he hiked up my skirt. "You need this, don't you? Need your son's big cock inside you."

I couldn't speak, could only moan in agreement as he tore my panties away and sank into me with one hard thrust. It hurt at first, but the pain quickly gave way to mind-numbing pleasure. He filled me so completely, stretching me in ways I'd never experienced.

"Take it, Mom," Jake grunted, setting a brutal pace as he pounded into me. "Take every fucking inch of your son's cock. You're mine now."

I came with a scream, my body convulsing around him as I shattered. Jake followed seconds later, his seed spurting deep inside me. We collapsed together on the table, both panting and sweaty.

And in that moment, something broke inside me. I couldn't go back to pretending anymore. Jake was right - I did need this, needed him. Needed the twisted depravity only my own son could give me.

From that night forward, we were lost to each other. Our lovemaking turned dark and violent, a tangled mess of screams and bruises and shameful pleasure. Jake took what he wanted from me, when he wanted it. And I gave it to him willingly, a willing sacrifice to his teenage lust.

It was wrong, so very wrong. But oh god, it felt so right. I was addicted to him now, to the way he made me feel alive and desired. I'd become just another piece of meat for him to rut on, but I didn't care.

My own son had corrupted me utterly, and I loved every sinful second of it.