The living room air hung thick with the scent of sex and cherry blossom incense. Aiko's yukata lay discarded on the tatami floor, her voluptuous body glistening with a sheen of sweat and her own slick. Kenji's cock—still impossibly hard, veins pulsing—rested against his abs, coated in her creamy release. She'd come three times already, each orgasm more intense than the last, her pussy clenching around his thickness like it was made for him. Yet he hadn't finished. Not even close.
Aiko's chest heaved, her massive breasts rising and falling, nipples dark and stiff. She reached down, fingers wrapping around his shaft, stroking slowly. "You're still so hard, Kenji-kun…" Her voice was husky, reverent. "Your father would've been done before I even felt anything."
Kenji's breath hitched. His hands, tentative at first, now roamed her body with growing confidence—squeezing the soft weight of her tits, tracing the curve of her wide hips. "Okaa-san… I've never… no one's ever felt like this."
She smiled, slow and predatory, leaning in to kiss him again. Her tongue teased his, tasting the salt of his skin. "Because no one else is your mother," she whispered against his lips. "No one else knows what you need."
Aiko stood, legs trembling slightly from the aftershocks. Her pussy lips were swollen, glistening, a thin string of her arousal stretching from her folds to his cock as she rose. She didn't bother covering herself. Let him look. Let him *want*. She extended a hand. "Come. Let's wash. Properly."
The Nakamura house had a private ofuro—a deep cedar bath fed by a natural hot spring line. It was Aiko's sanctuary, where she'd spent countless nights soaking while fantasizing about this exact moment. She led Kenji through the sliding shoji doors, the steam already curling in the air like ghostly fingers.
The bath was sunken, surrounded by smooth river stones and a single frosted window overlooking the moonlit garden. Cherry petals floated on the water's surface. Aiko stepped down first, the heat kissing her skin, making her gasp. Her ass jiggled as she descended, water lapping at her thighs, then her waist. She turned, watching Kenji undress fully.
His cock sprang free again—thick, heavy, the head flushed dark with blood. It bobbed with each step, a bead of precum dangling from the slit. Aiko's mouth watered. She sank to her knees in the shallow end, water swirling around her hips. "Let Okaa-san clean you," she murmured.
Her hands cupped warm water, pouring it over his shaft. She lathered a soft cloth with unscented soap, but quickly discarded it. No. She wanted to *feel* him. Her bare hands wrapped around his length, stroking slowly from root to tip, twisting gently at the head. Kenji groaned, hips jerking forward.
"Easy," she soothed, licking a slow stripe up the underside of his cock. Her tongue traced every vein, savoring the taste of him—clean skin, salt, and her own lingering essence. She took the head into her mouth, lips stretching wide, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Her big tits pressed against his thighs, nipples dragging through the water.
Kenji's hand tangled in her wet hair, not pushing—just holding. "Okaa-san… your mouth…"
She hummed around him, the vibration making him shudder. But she didn't let him finish there. Not yet. Pulling off with a wet pop, she stood, pressing her slick body against his. Her breasts crushed into his chest, her dripping pussy grinding against his cock. "In the water," she whispered. "I want to ride you where no one can hear us scream."
She guided him to sit on the submerged bench, water up to their chests. Straddling him again, she positioned his cock at her entrance. This time, she sank down *slowly*—inch by agonizing inch—until he was buried to the hilt. The water sloshed around them, warm and buoyant, lifting her slightly with each roll of her hips.
Aiko rode him languidly, her big ass bouncing in the water, creating waves that lapped at the bath's edges. Her hands braced on his shoulders, nails digging in as she ground her clit against his pubic bone. "So deep… you're splitting me open, Kenji-kun…" Her voice broke into a moan as another orgasm built, coiling tight in her belly.
Kenji's hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks underwater, fingers brushing dangerously close to her puckered hole—but he didn't push in. Just held her, letting her control the pace. His cock throbbed inside her, stretching her walls, the head kissing her cervix with every downward thrust.
Minutes blurred into an eternity of wet sounds—skin slapping water, her breathy cries, his low groans. Aiko came again, harder this time, her pussy spasming around him, squirting into the bath. The water clouded with her release. Still, he didn't come.
She leaned forward, breasts smothering his face. "Suck," she commanded softly. Kenji obeyed, mouth latching onto one nipple, teeth grazing gently. His hips bucked up, meeting her halfway now, the rhythm building.
They moved together like that for nearly an hour—slow, deep, relentless. Aiko's obsession consumed her. *This is what I was made for. His cock. His stamina. My son.* Another climax ripped through her, then another, until she lost count. Her pussy was a sopping mess, swollen and sensitive, yet still greedy for more.
Finally, Kenji's breath grew ragged. "Okaa-san… I'm close…"
She didn't stop. Instead, she clenched around him deliberately, milking his shaft. "Inside," she gasped. "Fill me. Mark me as yours."
With a guttural groan, Kenji came—thick, hot ropes of cum flooding her depths. There was so much, it overflowed, mixing with the water in creamy swirls. Aiko kept riding through it, drawing out every pulse until he was spent, cock twitching weakly inside her.
They stayed like that, locked together, panting. Aiko kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. "This is only the beginning, my love," she whispered. "Two weeks. Just us."
Outside, the cherry blossoms fell silently, witnesses to the forbidden bond now sealed in steam and sin.