My Relationship with My Son’s Taxi Driver

My name is Sara, and I’m a single mother to my 18-year-old son, Billy. We live in a comfortable house, and I work as a high-ranking executive, giving me a decent salary and a good lifestyle. I’m in my late thirties, and I’ve always taken care of my body, wearing hot and sexy clothes that accentuate my curves.

Billy is a big and athletic boy, taller and broader than his friends, with a strong physique that he maintains by working out regularly. He’s out with his friends at a party, and as the night wears on, he becomes drunk and struggles to walk. I’m worried sick about him, and when he finally returns home, he’s barely able to stand upright.

A taxi driver helps Billy into the house, and as I lock the door behind him, I notice that the driver has been checking me out. I’m wearing a red nightie that’s a bit revealing, and I feel a twinge of embarrassment. Billy, however, seems to have noticed nothing, or at least, nothing out of the ordinary. He’s too busy stumbling around and saying things that he wouldn’t normally say when he’s drunk.

“I don’t blame him, do you? Any man would go crazy looking at your body, Mom,” Billy slurs, his eyes fixed on me with a hungry gaze. He’s touching me all over, and even manages to rub his hand over my private parts. I’m shocked and embarrassed, but I try to play it cool, telling myself that he’s just drunk and doesn’t know what he’s doing.

As I try to help Billy into his room, he hugs me tightly and starts kissing me on the lips. I feel his hard-on pushing into my crotch, and I’m torn between being embarrassed and feeling a twinge of excitement. I manage to push him off me eventually, but not before he’s left me feeling a little shaken and confused.

The next morning, Billy comes to me and apologizes for what happened the night before. He claims to have no memory of it, and I decide to let it go, telling myself that it was just a drunken mistake. But as the day goes on, I start to feel a little uneasy, and I begin to wonder if Billy really doesn’t remember what happened.

In the evening, Billy comes back from an outing and sits next to me on the bed, looking me in the eye and asking if I’m going to tell him what happened the night before. I’m wearing another revealing nightie, and I feel a flutter in my chest as I realize that I’m not just being silly – I’m also being a bit of a tease.

Billy gets up and goes to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of alcohol and two glasses. We start drinking and chatting, and for the first time, we’re both wide open and talking about anything and everything. Billy starts asking me about my sex life, and I’m surprised to find myself opening up to him in a way that I never have before.

As we drink and talk, I start to feel a little more relaxed, and Billy’s eyes begin to linger on my body. He looks at my tits and nipples, and I catch him staring, but instead of feeling embarrassed, I feel a thrill of excitement. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I start to feel like I’m being a bit of a flirt, and Billy seems to be responding to it.

“Mom, you’re a very hot woman,” Billy says, his voice low and husky. “You have a body that could attract any man in the world, and I wonder why you never go out for fun?” I’m taken aback by his words, but as I look at him, I see the sincerity in his eyes, and I feel a pang of guilt for not being more outgoing.

Billy gets closer to me, his hands on my shoulders, and he gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. I feel a rush of excitement, and as he pulls me closer to him, I realize that I’m being a bit of a tease, but I’m also feeling something that I haven’t felt in a long time – desire.

Billy starts to push the bed sheet down, revealing my thighs, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. He places his palm over my thigh, rubbing softly and slowly, and I feel a wave of pleasure wash over me. I whisper in his ear, “That’s something you were doing last night, Billy, while you were drunk.” He’s shocked, or at least, he acts like it.

Billy screams “What?” and tries to move his body away from mine, but I hold him close, pulling him back in between my arms. I whisper, “It’s okay, baby. Last night, I fought back, but it feels so good tonight, simply because you’re in your full senses tonight.” Billy looks at me uncertainly, but I can see the desire in his eyes, and I know that he’s responding to me.

I smile, feeling a little wicked, and say, “And my hand too?” Billy looks at me, his eyes locked on mine, and I know that he’s going to do something. He brings his lips closer to mine, placing a soft kiss over my lips, and then another. He keeps pushing his hand upwards, till I feel it over my leaking wet pussy, and I moan loud.

Billy whispers, “Like that, Mom?” and I manage to let out a whisper of “Yes.” I push my legs wider apart, inviting his hand to do more, and in between my loud moans of pleasure, I manage to let out a whisper of “Yes.” Billy’s lips are glued to mine, and his hand is doing many things over my pussy, massaging my growing clit, and I’m so close to climax.

Many things gather together at that moment – I’m horny, Billy’s horny, we’re both drunk, and things are getting out of control. No words are spoken, but lots of actions are done, and before I know it, I’m having my first orgasm over the fingers of my own son, who pulls his hand away and replaces it with his mouth and tongue in a split second.

I’m supposed to fight back or try to stop him, but I don’t, in fact, I couldn’t. I want it more than he does, and as I feel the pleasure wash over me, I know that I’ve crossed a line that I can never go back from.

As Billy’s tongue danced across my waxed skin, I felt a rush of forbidden pleasure. He rimmed my ass, using all his senses to bring me to the brink of orgasm once more. His face was buried between my thighs, and I couldn’t help but think of myself as his dirty little slut.

“Billy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own ragged breathing.

He pulled back, his eyes locked on mine, and I saw a flash of fear before he buried his face between my thighs once more. I felt his hard cock pressing against my outer lips, and suddenly he was inside me, gliding in with ease.

I lost all sense of time and space, my entire world contracting down to the sensation of his cock filling me to the brim. It was bigger than I’d expected, stretching my inner walls in ways I never thought possible.

“Did I hurt you, mom?” Billy asked, his voice husky with desire.

“No, honey,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re giving me the pleasure I’ve been missing for so long. I want you to fuck me hard and deep, please.”

I couldn’t believe the words were coming out of my mouth. It was wrong, it was sick, but it was also exactly what I wanted. Billy was young and strong, and he was giving me the kind of passion I’d been craving for years.

We fucked all night, our bodies moving in perfect sync. I lost count of the number of times I came, but I knew Billy had three explosive orgasms, all of which left him gasping for breath.

As we caught our breath, Billy told me his secrets. He’d been sneaking into my room at night, jerking off to the sight of me sleeping. He’d even taken my dirty panties, using them to cum on before tossing them aside.

Each new revelation left me breathless, but it also left me wanting more. Billy was a young man with a wild sex drive, and I was more than happy to be his partner in crime.

But it was the final confession that left me shaken. He’d been planning this for a while, using his drunkenness as an excuse to make his move. And I had to admit, it had been a thrill.

As the night wore on, Billy and I continued our wild sexcapades. We slept together, fully nude, and I discovered a newfound love for sex and my own desire.

It was a journey I never could have anticipated, but one that I was grateful to have embarked on with my own son.

THE END

-Dina Petro