The night the power died, it was the sort of Colorado cold that makes your teeth ache and your nuts crawl up near your lungs for safety. I’d been in my room most of the evening, headphones jacked up, shuffling between TikTok and trying not to think about my upcoming final in stats. The wind started hammering the house like it owed it money. Then everything blinked out, lights, wifi, even my Spotify playlist died mid-drop. A minute later, the sound of Mom’s footsteps thudded up the stairs.
“Tommy?”
She didn’t bother knocking, which was classic Mom. “Power’s out.”
“I know. The neighbors are dark, too. How many blankets you got in there? I thought you might need one when it’s time to go to bed.”
“One.”
There was a pause. “I’ll bring you another.” Another pause. “And you’re not using candles in here, right?”
“I’m not five, Mom.”
A couple of minutes later, she opened the door again, holding an armload of fleece. She had on these ridiculous penguin pajama pants and a thick pink sweater that looked about two sizes too big, her dark blonde hair loose. Even like this, mommed out, bundled up, and blinking against the dark, she looked really good. She always did, and it sucked how much I’d noticed that lately.
She dumped the blanket on my bed and fussed with the flashlight on her phone, looking around for candles or, I don’t know, whiskey bottles or porn mags or whatever she assumed I kept in here. “You should come downstairs. Temperature’s already dropping.”
I almost made a joke about global warming but my jaw was starting to chatter. “Yeah. I’ll come down.”
She flashed me a smile, her lips wide and soft, eyes blue and shiny even in the dark. Then she shut the door and padded down the hall. I waited until her steps faded then followed
The living room was already candlelit. Mom had gone full hygge: every throw pillow on the floor, extra blankets stacked on the couch, an insane number of candles glowing on every shelf. She had the fireplace going, too, though the wood was snapping like it might run out of patience before the night did.
“Sit,” she ordered, patting the couch beside her. “You want tea?”
“Yeah,” I said, shivering as I dropped next to her. She’d made a nest out of the blanket, and when I got close enough, she wrapped a corner over my legs without even looking at me. The heat coming off her was way better than the fireplace.
She went into the kitchen, poured boiling water from a camping kettle, and brought back two mugs. Her hands shook a little as she handed me one, and it made me weirdly protective of her, the way her wrists looked slim and vulnerable and so, so feminine. She sat down again and tucked her feet under herself, knees up, pajamas stretching tight over her thighs and the round of her hips.
“It’s going to be a long one,” she said.
“How long?”
She shrugged. “Could be all night. Could be tomorrow.”
The window behind her had already frosted up. I pressed my palm against it and pulled away with a hiss. “Jesus, it’s already freezing.”
“It’s going to get worse,” she said. “And before you ask, the only hot water left is what’s in the tank.”
I sipped my tea and tried to hide my stare as she adjusted the blanket higher, the sweater falling off one bare shoulder. Her skin was pale but not in a sick way, more like the soft side of an apple, smooth and sweet-looking. She saw me looking and gave me this quick, sideways smile, then looked back at the fire. For a second, the silence was almost comfortable.
She blew across her tea. “We should probably shower soon.”
“We?” I was trying to sound casual, but my voice cracked halfway through the word.
She grinned, sipping her tea. “I’ll go first. But you should use it right after, before it runs cold.”
“Okay.”
Another awkward pause. Then she said, “Or we could just shower together. To save time.” She didn’t look up, just kept blowing on her mug like she’d said nothing unusual.
My face went hot instantly. I’d had these thoughts about her … bad thoughts, wrong thoughts, thoughts that’d gotten me through a lot of long, lonely nights, but I’d never once imagined she’d say it out loud.
“I mean, it’s not like we haven’t,” she said, and now she did look up, and her face was red in the candlelight. “When you were little. I know it’s different now. But it’s just practical, okay?”
“Okay,” I said. My cock was already half-hard just thinking about it.
We went inside together. Mom stood at the sink, back to me, stripping off her sweater and top. She had on a plain blue bra that lifted her tits. Her hair was undone, falling over her shoulders, and she reached behind to unsnap her bra.
Then she shrugged off the bra and dropped it in the laundry basket. She was topless, just like that, and didn’t even bother covering herself. Her nipples were pale pink, big and soft, sitting high on her chest. I couldn’t look away. She didn’t tell me to.
She slid her pajama pants and panties down in one motion and kicked them aside. Her ass was perfect: round, wide, with this subtle dimple where it met her thigh. Her hips wide, and her waist was narrow, but not tight the way girls my age tried to be. She turned to face me, arms at her sides, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
She looked me up and down, eyes catching at my waist. “Well?” she said, smiling a little. “You gonna shower in your jeans?”
My hands shook as I peeled off my shirt. She watched, not even pretending not to. When I dropped my pants, my cock was standing straight up and bobbing with my pulse. For a second, I thought about covering myself, but something in her face made me stop. She liked that I was hard, even if she tried to hide it.
“Wow,” she said. “That’s impressive.” Her gaze lingered for a long beat. “Go ahead, get in. I’ll join you.”
I stepped into the shower, turned it on and let the water beat down on my back. It was so hot it stung, but I wanted to feel something besides my own panic. I closed my eyes and tried not to picture Mom naked. Didn’t work.
She stepped in a moment later, closing the curtain behind her. The steam wrapped around us, and the shower space was so tight our bodies almost touched. She stood facing me, her breasts moving as she breathed. Water ran in rivulets over her curves, down her chest, across her belly, around the triangle of dark blonde hair between her legs. I tried not to stare, but she saw anyway.
“Can you hand me the shampoo?” she asked, voice normal.
I fumbled for it, almost dropped it, and passed it to her. She poured a dollop in her hand and started working it into her scalp, eyes closed, mouth relaxed. Her nipples stiffened in the chill air above the waterline, and I felt my cock throb even harder. When she rinsed, water slicked her hair to her back and she looked ten years younger, the kind of girl I would have fantasized about if she wasn’t my mother.
She turned her back to me and bent forward a little to rinse her hair, her ass jutting out. I wanted so badly to touch it, and she had to know. She straightened and looked over her shoulder at me.
“Your turn,” she said.
I nodded. She squeezed shampoo into my palm and reached up to ruffle it into my hair. Her fingers were gentle, massaging my scalp. When she leaned in, her tits pressed against my chest. I thought I might pass out.
She let her hands slide down my neck, lingering at my shoulders. “You’ve really filled out,” she said quietly. “When did that happen?”
“Uh. This year? It’s when I started going to the gym.”
She smiled, lips inches from my face. “I guess I hadn’t noticed.”
Her hands slid down my arms, her fingers tracing the muscle there, then stopped at my hips. She looked down, finally, at my cock, so hard it ached.
She giggled. “I’m sorry, Tommy. This must be weird for you.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
I shook my head so fast it splattered water everywhere.
She reached out and put her hand around my shaft. She held it, just the weight of her palm, as if she was checking to see if it was real. I felt every nerve in my body light up at once. She started stroking, softly at first, just her fingers gliding over the slick skin.
“I’m not mad,” she said, voice almost a whisper. “It’s a natural reaction, honey. Don’t feel bad about it.”
Her hand tightened a little, stroking up and down with more confidence. She kept looking at my face, like she was reading how much I liked it. I wanted to say something, anything, but my whole brain had gone offline.
“Mom,” I said, “that feels—” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
She smiled, not embarrassed at all. “Good?”
I nodded.
She kept stroking me, wrist moving heavenly. Her other hand reached behind her and squeezed her own ass, like she was thinking about something. I stared at her chest, the water beads on her skin, the way her breasts bounced a little with every stroke.
“I’m going to—”
“Cum?” she said with a giggle. “Where do you want to finish?”
“Your ass.”
She let go just long enough to turn around, facing the tile wall, then arched her back so her ass was right there in front of me. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “Go ahead.”
She looked back at me over her shoulder, eyes blue and wide, cheeks pink. “If you want to, I mean.”
I did. I stroked myself, the head of my cock burning with need. When I was about to come, I leaned forward and aimed at her ass, thick jets shooting across her back, dripping down into the crack and onto her thighs. She held still for me, making a tiny pleased sound as my cum splattered over her.
When I finished, I sagged against the wall, dizzy. She stood straight and reached for the shower head, rinsing herself clean, turning under the water so every bit of her skin was bare and shining.
“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it.
“You’re welcome,” she said. She touched her stomach, then her hair, as if reminding herself she still existed.
I glanced down, mortified but somehow proud that my cock was hard again already.
She laughed, quietly, shaking her head. “Oh, honey,” she said, and it wasn’t mocking at all, just a little amazed. “I guess I’m still worth looking at.”
She looked me in the eye, then gave this tiny nod, like it was a dare. “Do you need something more intense, perhaps?”
“Yeah,” I said.
Turning around, she spread her legs and pressed her palms flat against the tiled wall. Water streamed down her back and over the full, soft curves of her ass. I stepped in behind her, one hand on her hip, the other guiding my cock between her cheeks. The head nudged against her entrance. She was already slick from the water and her arousal.
I pushed forward slowly. The tight heat of her pussy swallowed the head, then more, until I was halfway inside. Mom let out a soft, shaky breath and pushed back against me, taking the rest of me in one sweet motion until my hips met her ass.
“Oh… Tommy,” she whispered, forehead resting against the tile.
I stayed still for a second, buried all the way inside my own mother, feeling her walls flutter around me. Then I pulled back and thrust in again, deeper this time. The wet slap of my hips against her soft ass echoed in the small shower. Water ran over both of us, making everything slick and hot.
I started fucking her in steady, deep strokes. Every time I bottomed out, her full cheeks jiggled against me. I gripped her hips harder and picked up the pace, watching my cock disappear between them over and over. Mom’s soft moans mixed with the sound of the water. She arched her back further, giving me a better angle, and I sank even deeper.
“You feel so good,” I groaned, leaning forward so my chest pressed against her wet back. My hands slid up her sides and cupped her heavy breasts, squeezing them as I thrust. Her nipples were hard under my palms. She pushed her ass back to meet every stroke, the soft flesh bouncing against me.
The shower stall felt smaller with every movement. Steam wrapped around us. I fucked her harder, the wet sounds growing louder, my balls slapping lightly against her. Mom’s fingers curled against the tile. Her breathing turned ragged.
“Just like that,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”
I reached down with one hand and rubbed her clit while I kept pounding into her from behind. Her pussy clenched hard around me almost immediately. She came with a quiet, broken moan, her whole body shaking, walls pulsing and squeezing my cock. The feeling dragged me over the edge right after her.
I slammed in deep one last time and came hard, pumping thick ropes of cum straight into her. My hips jerked as I emptied myself inside my mother, the heat of it spilling deeper with every pulse. I kept grinding against her ass until the last drop left me.
We stayed locked together under the cooling water, both breathing heavily. My cock twitched inside her as the last of my cum leaked out around the base. Mom rested her forehead against the tile, still holding herself up with both hands.
After a long moment I slowly pulled out. A thick trickle of my cum followed, running down the inside of her thigh before the water washed it away. She turned her head just enough to look at me over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes soft and a little dazed.
“We should get out,” she said quietly. “The water’s almost cold.”
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. Neither of us said anything else as we stepped out into the freezing bathroom, the power still out, the house silent except for the wind outside.
We towelled each other and put on some fresh clothes. Then we huddled together on the couch.
She made more tea, poured mine first, and handed it over. Her fingers lingered on mine, just a moment, and we both smiled, not saying a word.
Outside, the wind howled, but inside, it was warm enough. For now.
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