"You have a son?" I said, moving closer—dick touching hard to her ass now, rubbing slow between her cheeks through the pants.

"Yeah… he's about your age," she said, glancing down at my bulge again—she couldn't help it, voice catching a little, breath quicker.

The thought hit her hard—a guy the same age as her son groping her mature, thick body like this, hands bold on her curves. It turned her on bad, forbidden heat flooding her, making her press back firmer into me, nipples hardening more through the shirt.

Hearing her son was about my age—and I was here rubbing my hard dick on his mom—stirred something dark in me. I started moving my hips subtle—grinding firmer, letting her feel every inch while my hand stayed on her shoulder.

She looked at it—how I was making moves—and she just let me, breath quicker, ass pressing back slight like she needed it.

I stopped massaging her shoulder—slid both hands to her waist, grabbing firm from both sides, pulling her closer slow, caressing the curve where her tiny waist flared to wide hips.

She had that little belly—soft, rounded, the kind a real woman gets after years and kids, warm under my palms as I pressed in, feeling her melt back against me.

Her breath hitched—"Aahh…"—body leaning heavy, ass pushing firmer into my grinding dick, like she needed the pressure.

"You know… I do double shifts on the train," she said softer, voice opening more, body leaning heavy into me now. "Most of the time I don't even get to see my husband for weeks."

"It must be really hard for you, Heather," I said, wrapping my arms around her from behind—pulling her tighter against me, dick grinding obvious now between her thick cheeks through the pants, hands sliding lower to cup the top of her ass, squeezing firm.

She gasped soft—body melting back into me, breath catching as she felt every inch press hot against her.

She didn't care how hard my dick was touching her—she was a deprived woman with needs, body responding fast, leaning back full, breath hitching sharp as she felt me throb against her.

This woman's body was pure sin—mature curves built from years, that soft belly from carrying life, wide hips made for gripping, heavy tits begging to overflow. Her duty as a mother only made me turn on more—the forbidden heat of taking a woman who'd raised a son my age.

"Ahh… Alex… I shouldn't be doing this…" she whispered, voice shaky with shame, but her body said everything else—ass pushing back harder, grinding slow like she couldn't stop.

"You need to enjoy your life, Heather," I rasped, hands sliding to her stomach now, massaging slow circles over the soft, warm curve. "You deserve to be happy… your body has needs."

"Ahhh…" she moaned deeper, head tilting back on my shoulder, eyes fluttering as my fingers pressed gentle but firm.

"But my son is about your age… I feel shameful…" she confessed breathy, cheeks burning red—but the thought only made her hornier, body trembling harder, pussy soaking through her pants as shame mixed with raw want.

I slid my hands up slow—over her shirt, cupping her massive boobs heavy, feeling the weight, thumbs brushing the hard nipples poking desperate.

"Look at them, Heather," I growled low in her ear, pinching her nipples firm through the fabric. "They're starving for a man's touch."

"Ahh… Alex… don't…" she whimpered, hands coming up to mine—but not to stop, just to guide the pressure, pressing my palms harder into her tits, showing me how rough she needed it.

She was too far gone now—mind screaming shame, but body screaming yes, hips grinding back on my dick, tits pushing into my grip, breath coming in hot pants.

Her body wanted what she'd denied it for years—rough, young cock owning every curve.

"Alex… umm… I feel like a bad mom…" she whispered, voice cracking with guilt, but the words only made her hotter—pussy soaking through her pants, ass clenching tighter around my grinding cock.

"Shh," I said low in her ear, biting her neck sharp—teeth sinking into the soft skin, sucking a mark deep. "Don't think like that, Heather… wouldn't your son want his mother to be happy?"

I squeezed her boobs harder—fingers digging into the heavy flesh through her shirt, thumb rolling her nipple rough.

"Ahh… he would do anything to see his mother happy…" she moaned, losing to the lust fast, body arching back into me, head tilting to give me more neck.

"Then he'd want his mother to take care of her body's needs, Heather," I rasped, pinching her nipple hard—twisting slow until she cried out soft. "The way you work so hard on duty… you're neglecting what your body wants. If your son saw you neglecting your happiness like that, he'd feel sad…"

"Do you want your son to feel bad—that his mother is working so hard to pay for his college, but she isn't happy?" I said low in her ear, pinching her nipples harder, twisting slow as I bit her neck again.

"No… ahh… no, Alex…" she gasped, shame mixing with raw need, pussy grinding back desperate now. "I would do anything to make my son happy… ahhh…"

She was letting her body feel the pleasure fully now—guilt turning to fuel, hips rolling greedy and wild, tits heaving heavy in my hands, breath ragged and hot against my neck as I bit her again, marking her deeper with dark bruises.

The forbidden thought—her son my age, me owning his mom's body—made her break faster, pussy flooding, ass pushing for more.

"Ahh… Alex… I never cheated on my husband," she confessed breathy, voice cracking as lust took over completely. "He's so caring… loves me so much… I'm such a bad wife…"

Her words said guilt, but her body screamed lust—arching back harder, ass grinding my dick rough, nipples poking like rocks through her shirt.

"Your husband would understand, Heather," I rasped in her ear, fingers slow on her shirt buttons—popping them open one by one, letting her massive boobs breathe free, shirt falling open to reveal the lacy bra straining underneath. "How you work so hard to support him… he can understand you have needs that need to be fulfilled…"

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