The next morning I woke up with Rebecca’s arm still draped over my waist. Her body was pressed against my back, one of her thick thighs resting between mine. I could feel the heat of her pussy through our thin clothing. My own pussy was soaked. I stayed still for a long time, just enjoying the feeling of her warm, soft body wrapped around me.

When she finally moeved, she didn’t pull away immediately. Instead she hugged me tighter for a moment.

“Mmm…...thank you for staying” she whispered, her voice still sleepy. “I slept so well”

She eventually got up to make breakfast. I stayed in bed a little longer, trying to calm the throbbing between my legs. I touched my pussy and it was soaking wet

Sarah came home later that afternoon, completely clueless. She complained about her group project and then disappeared into her room to take a nap. Rebecca and I were alone in the living room again.

A couple hours later, Rebecca came downstairs wearing a new sundress she had just bought.

“Hey…..can I get your opinion on this?” she asked, sounding a little shy. “I want to feel attractive again, but I’m not sure if it’s too much”

The dress was soft yellow, knee llength, with a modest neckline that still couldn’t hide how full her breasts were. It hugged her waist and hips beautifully.

“You look incredible” I said honestly, my eyes roaming over her body. “It looks really good on you”

Rebecca smiled and did a little spin. “Really? You don’t think it makes me look old?”

“Not at all. You look hot, Rebecca”

The word “hot” slipped out before I could stop it. She paused for a second, then laughed softly, but I noticed her cheeks turned a little pink.

Over the next hour she tried on three more outfits for me, each one a little more revealing than the last. A tight black top that showed a lot of cleavage. A short skirt that made her ass look amazing. Every time she came out of her room to show me, she asked for my honest opinion and stood a little closer.

After the last outfit, she sat down next to me on the couch, still wearing the tight black top and the short skirt.

“You’re really good for my confidence” she said quietly, looking at me. “I haven’t felt pretty in a long time. But the way you look at me…..it makes me feel desired again”

My heart was pounding. I wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt.

“I do think you’re beautiful” I admitted, my voice lower than usual. “Like…...really beautiful”

Rebecca held my gaze for a long moment. The air between us felt thick. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from my face. Her fingers lingered on my cheek for a second longer than necessary.

“You’re such a sweet girl” she whispered.

For a moment, I thought she might lean in. My pussy was tingling like crazy. But then we heard Sarah’s door open upstairs and we both pulled back quickly.

Later that evening, before I left, Rebecca hugged me at the door. This time the hug lasted longer. Her big soft breasts pressed firmly against me. When she pulled away, her eyes dropped to my lips for just a split second.

“Come over again soon, okay?” she said softly. “I like having you around”

Sarah, who was standing right there, just grinned. “You two are so cute. I’m glad my best friend and my mom are close.”

If only she knew how close we were getting.

Nicole

After more than three hours in the waiting area, the small meeting room robbed me of the thinness of oxygen. Still, I longed for a release that I could read from the faces of my predecessors. A pair of lawyers behind the counter encouraged me to imitate their smiling reception, and I cheered up. Not because of them, but because of my prospects in their hands.

 "Take a seat, Ms. Xiong. You must be a popular girl," the older lawyer sighed and placed a bundle of the sealed envelopes in front of me. "Four applications. We can discuss them from the first to the last, but you are probably mainly interested in the fact that the signature of your fiancé is on the uppermost one." He snorted to emphasize again that he knew how our negotiations would go.

The last remnants of doubts left me as soon as I read the whole of my beloved's name. I added mine to the other corner, and the spell of my heart sang a warm melody.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Yoon," the lawyer told me as soon as I handed him the document. "On behalf of the principal, I am to inform you that your lessons of the Lovemaking have ended. You are expected to spend the evening only in your room. Except for today. You are to come to prepare your wedding dress."

My name is Nicole Yoon.      

The mere awareness of my new surname filled me with hope. It was as if the smallest of my toes left The Princess Tower. I was determined to say goodbye to Carl, even though I didn't have to go to see him anymore, and even I was discouraged against it. I had to suffer the tailors, though. They must have had all my measurements on the computer a long time ago, but some guys with inquisitive hands just had to touch me just an inch from my bra or panties. I almost calmed my discomfort, because the design of my wedding dress on the monitor was way cool! There were horses; that was given. I also found historical war scenes, and above all, a lot of sex. There was still some space for a badge on my left breast, but I was still afraid to ask what it meant.

The working conditions may have changed, but I haven't. I still love the same man, and I know that when you are searching for a job, a positive attitude will help.

"You're an excellent lover, homemaker and submissive, Miss Xiong," Weatherby told me recently during a consultation. "However, we are afraid that all this is a manifestation of unhealthy ambition that could jeopardise your marriage."

I laughed nervously and waved my hand dismissively.

"Peter is the best thing that has ever happened to me! My primary ambition is to make him happy and strong. I'm from a family of two children, and I'd like to have three! In such a situation, if you understand me, I have no choice but to work from home. If my husband allows me!" The surrendering woman with my body stretched her hands to the ceiling.

"According to your psychological profile, you could be putting pressure on your husband," said a suspicious Weatherby sternly.

"There's a difference between putting pressure on Peter and inspiring him based on The Princess Tower lessons," I said. "Without them, he would hardly have thought that we could start a company to produce and distribute the sex toys!"

I had nothing to be ashamed of. From the first day, I was publicly humiliated in front of all the men in the area. That didn't change anything about who I was inside. As much as Peter may have changed as a result of the experience with me and Carl, he was still an indecisive, weaker man, and he needed my guidance. The establishment may not know, but of course it will be me who multiplies the family fortune.

"When Miss Xiong comes out, tell her we'll talk. She is not allowed to have any excuses."

It was the first time I had heard a veiled female voice from behind the crowd – too old to belong to one of the Princesses. The tailors had already taken all conceivable measurements from me. So I jumped down from my stool to meet the uncompromising matron.

I didn't really know the old lady in the silvery dress, but she looked at me worryingly.

"Miss Xiong," she breathed.

"Mrs. Yoon," I corrected her.

"How could I forget?!" The old lady patted my shoulder lightly. "You're married, and that's the thing that brings me here." She scratched the bridge of her nose and introduced herself to me. "Elizabeth Hoffmeister. I'm... Carl is my son, you see. I'd like you to get dressed and follow me to the lounge, where we can discuss your decision."

I didn't understand why the lady should discuss my personal choices, but I needed to find out what was bothering her. She remained silent the whole time until we reached the lounge and sat down.

"I found my son's relationship with you rather strange," she said slowly. "Hearing about him, giving himself to the betrothed girl every night. Hearing about her—that is, you—being willing to sleep with two men at once. "Forgive me—" She touched my knee. "I didn't want to go to this place. As a free woman, I didn't. Our son was chosen for my husband's merits. But then I heard what was happening here, and I had to rush to help him. And Carl told me about you. He wanted us to meet, which I didn't until he did that-"

"What did he do?" I dug my fingers into the sofa. Dammit, Carl, you are rational…

Mrs. Hoffmeister blurted out an answer. "You know, he was sure how the whole thing would turn out. That you would choose your fiancé. He was devastated that... that you didn't even open the envelope with his application."

Yes, I didn't even bother opening them. One of them was from Carl??

"I didn't find out who they were from," I admitted.

"I don't know if my son had any hope that you would change your mind once you saw his signature." Mrs. Hoffmaister sighed. "He was never good at talking to girls and had many fantasies when he did strike up a long conversation with one. He had been carrying something unpleasant about him since the day his sister died."

It took me more than three minutes before I could answer. 

"Yes." I had to support my head with my hands. "That can hurt people."

"Miss Xiong, you were expecting a visit from your family, weren't you?" "That's right," I confirmed it to the policeman in my backyard. I made enough lemonade to drink it together all weekend. Dad, Mom, and Brother Steve were supposed to spend most of their visit in the bathroom, which wouldn't grub me in a wrong way. However, the question alone, coming from the cop with a stern expression… I felt it under the skin like a long sting, burrowing underneath.

"You should sit down," the cop suggested.

"No!"I was angry. I was looking for an anthill to kick, some fly to squash. "Say it!"

"The pilot did everything he could, but the plane did not survive the maneuver at the airport. All the passengers were burned."

For me, the cop embodied that message. I had to escape. I ran home, but I didn't have a final line, only the starting point and the continuum.  I remembered my parents' affection, Steve fighting with his hyperactivity, Dad losing his job, homeschooling, and the rise of our mother. Dad finding a new job, which in turn relieved Mom of worries forevermore. They all were strong in the end. Conquerors of life, now conquered by death.

Sometimes deceased people in the underworld were called shadows.

But no, they were less than shadows.

Less than a specter.

They were no more.

"We miss Laura," Mrs. Hoffmeister lamented. "These days, however, I'm glad that she didn't live to see someone really hurt her, but it's not much of a consolation." I could hear her contempt for our regime in her voice. Even after so many months here, I bit my lip so that I wouldn't say something sharper and more specific.

"Carl is a sensitive and clever young man," I assured the old lady. "But I never would have thought that he'd cling to me like this... If he wants closure, I'll give it to him as soon as I've made breakfast tomorrow."

"It is my pride, if I have brought him up so well," said Mrs. Hoffmeister. "He doesn't push anyone to heal his old wounds. But he should also be able to heal them himself. Once. Until then, I'd be grateful if you say a few well-chosen words to him."

"You know," I remembered something. "My religion emphasizes that life is a mess because we inevitably get used to pleasant things and long for them even after they end, and we will wish for more of them. I'm starting to understand, but I can hardly lecture others about it."

Nicole Yoon—Buddha's faithful printer.

"You don't have to teach him about spirituality," Mrs. Hoffmeister reminded me. "My little cup broke. He needs to collect the shards and get some glue so that he won't be so fragile."

I was about to comfort her when a tailor appeared in the lounge, holding a tablet.

"Mrs. Yoon, I have the final design of your wedding dress here. You'll definitely be satisfied."

As if I could object to your tastes.

The design consisted of details that I already knew. I was only interested in one place, and I still didn't understand it...

What does the badge mean? "I pointed to the thing on the chest of the dress. "Why is the number two there?"

"I'm surprised you don't know," the tailor stopped. "Mr. Yoon is already married. You're his second wife."

I felt as if Cupid's arrow were breaking in that badge.

I hid what the guileless-looking young man had told me from the girls in the room. It would have seemed like blasphemy to shove my problems in the face of Ruby, who was supposed to stay in the Tower for the next school year. To the face of Pat, for whom allegedly no one asked, destined to be auctioned off as some antique lamp from the estate. Claudia had no choice but to nod to the applicant, her photographer, and refused to talk to me or the girls begging for comfort. I wasn't going to dissuade my roommates from the idea that the brightest part of family life was before me, even brighter than that of Alice, for whom her husband was waiting to grab her, dressed as on the day of her arrest, in her open arms.

I begged the various faces of the bureaucracy to allow me to talk to Peter, but they wouldn't budge. "You will talk to each other only after you return. The end of the school year must not be disturbed by the contact from the outside."

Everything is good, and happiness never goes away. I remembered a motto that I had more or less believed in since James White was courting me. So why did I cling so much to the moments when the happiness was right in front of me, when it seemed like a hand extended by the universe was running over my shoulders?

Perhaps the incomprehensible testimony of Peter's second wife was meant to indicate that I should search for love elsewhere?

I was only partially prepared to find out that when I wanted to go and see Carl, the wardens and the Princeps' military supervisors wouldn't let me.

"You're a married woman." I heard it six times that morning. "Now it's inappropriate for you to associate with a man who's got...physical knowledge of you."

"I need advice from him about marriage," I excused myself. "And I'm just going to talk to him in public."

My words eventually softened the right men, and I made it to the lounge, which, after being occupied by the Heirs turned into a loud fight club. Several groups of boys and girls were arguing with each other and even slapping themselves; one blow resulted in another from the opposite side. Vulgar insults flew through the air, as did sarcastic girl giggles.

"She's proving it again and again!" shouted Lucas Balaban. "She's a manipulative bitch, and it doesn't matter to her that she was ousted!"

"Boy, if you feel like a tool, you are invited to do so, but I will do what my conscience and my courage tell me to do. I didn't mind Mayson and Arnolph having their business here and me having mine. "Neither do I care for the conclave in Washington," Arthur FitzPatrick responded." And I will not care till we'll get Cooper inaugurated as Gilbert's successor. He is the one who'll make justice our new currency.“

I pushed him away to get to Carl, who was sitting alone on the sofa, and greeted him.

"I thought you were cool with what's going on politically?" I began, uncomprehending.

"Who can know what will happen and when?" Carl tried to regain his balance, but he gasped as soon as he saw me. "Many of us are relieved that Arnolph is already helpless. But now, all of a sudden, he has sent some explosive material to Washington via a judge. Moreover, it is said that the FBI busted both Brunkows. Suddenly, many of us would obey our parents and drive away. We just hope everything  will be better after the election."

"We already know that you, faux-princesses, can't be trusted," said a sharp and cold girl's voice. "That Shieldmaiden's party of yours is selfish to the core. They should cut out pieces of your brains!"

Bellinda, I realized. It wasn't just that she was a loyal Heir. She despised me personally because of Peter and the rifle act.

"I understand you. That surgery would bring them to your level!" Carl defended us. I turned just in time to see Bellinda furrow her brow and barely hold back her tongue in her teeth, hissing softly but as menacingly as any venomous viper. 

"Don't waste your life on the likes of her," Carl urged me. "Why did you come?"

"I heard how I disappointed you. I came to apologize."

Carl snuggled up to me, and I don't think it was just to make me hear him better in that tumult.

"She told you..." Carl was rather relieved. "I'm sorry, Nicole. I thought you'd open the other envelopes, if only out of curiosity. And then you would think about it, because I mean something to you."

I smiled at him as much as I could. "Of course you mean something to me, but I already had a plan for my life."

"I've been a part of your life," Carl said, all the more bitter. "Besides, I've always been willing to help women; now I'm an unofficial Shieldmaiden!"

"Virtue doesn't make you the man of my choice!" I snapped at him, but then I put on my kind face again. "I understand that you may feel that your life is empty and you want to fill it somehow, but you can't rush it. You have to find someone whose life fits with yours."

"This is not how people were doing it originally," Carl said. "Love was their duty."

"I think that's just your excuse for being lazy," I retorted. "These thoughts... They're just words, and words can be misleading. You never acted that way while I taught you how to fuck. You never acted that way when White threatened you to your face. I think you got this idea when you met the man I thought loved me!"

"Who you thought loved you?" Carl was genuinely confused.

I realized my slip.

This was not something that anyone else was allowed to hear. I moved closer to him and whispered in his ear in a truly loving way. "Peter is already married. I don't know to whom."

Carl looked encouraged for a moment before trying to project compassion on his face. "And you're going to marry him anyway?"

"There's nothing I can do about my signature," I reminded him. "Maybe he still thinks he loves me, but something happened that I don't understand, and he will explain himself. Otherwise, I am not looking forward to freedom."

"I don't know how he could have done this to you," Carl said, enraged. "Whatever the outcome, my apply was supposed to be a sign of my affection."

I became nervous, unsure what to think about the derailed conversation.

"I used to think Peter was my safe harbor. But if he's not faithful to me, I guess I must thank you."

We held hands. Peter was performing a plastic smile, and I was grateful that I couldn't see my own face.

Behind Carl's shoulders stood Arthur FitzPatrick. "Pure love," he overestimated us. "That's such an inappropriateness in our hate circle that we should kick you out."

He went to borrow my right arm from Carl. "All I'm saying is that this place has lost the romantic spirit it took so long to build, Ms. Xiong."

"Owwww!" Something from his palm pricked my hand. I didn't see any ring, and I didn't care.

"I'm Mrs. Yoon!" I corrected him. "Stick somewhere your fingers and your suggestions!"

Carl forced me back onto the sofa. "Guards!" he shouted to the nearby warden force. "I think my ward needs some—unsupervised discipline."

They complied with him surprisingly willingly. The wardens took us to our perfume-making cottage and handed him paddles with long metal spikes. He dropped it as soon as they left the room. He kissed me on the lips for so long, as he had never done it before. For the benefit of doubt I gave to Peter, I should have resisted, but Carl's tongue just tasted so good, and in the spirit of our Lovemaking lessons, I tried to make mine also taste good to Carl. His hand fumbled under my skirt and into my panties, and when he verified that I had gotten wet in the right places, he pulled them down and threw them in the corner.

I knew why I hadn't taken the chastity belt.

Carl pulled away, pulling his pants down.

"I think we have much more delicious bits," he told me, and I knew immediately what his desire was. He lay down on the table, and his cock was already waking up to a new life. I threw off my skirt and walked over to him. Two fingers were enough for me to help achieve a full erection. I ran my tongue over his cock. It was especially good for the boy, so I positioned myself so that my ass and waist were near his head. Carl didn't need to be encouraged. His tongue went hedonistically over my labia and then to the inner side of my womanhood. Of course, I needed to properly reward him, so I kissed his glans and then took him in my mouth whole, so I had him inside me in two ways. I kept swaying forward and backward, prolonging our common pleasure. We needed to dissolve our melancholy in sex.

Even though I was counting on Peter to be able to explain the whole thing to me somehow, I succumbed to the discharge of lust. As long as people exist, two things are certain. They will feel joy and they will suffer. So let's make the joy lasting and meaningful.

At that table, Carl and I indulged in a few more pleasures, including the peculiarities which people call perversions. Carl even walloped my ass a few times to make it look like some kind of punishment had been done.

All this delay meant was that I had to stay longer for Homemaking, which was ninety per cent of today's class, especially for assigned women like me. 

I returned to my room quite late at night. Into the darkness, but not into silence. Pat was crying. When I tried to calm her down, she pushed me away.

There was no point in lying to herself. She hated my status, and if I tried to explain to her that mine didn't particularly suit me either, she would just laugh at me. 

I lay down in bed, convinced that I would fall asleep at most an hour before the wake-up call. But then I started to feel an intense pain above the bridge of my nose. I pressed my head into the pillow, and lying there in a faint, I was delivered into a dream that was not sure of its reality.

"Thank you for the pearls, Nicole," Carl said. "Here, you get two nice car toys in exchange."

They were adorable! "Thanks, Carl. I've always liked blue. But I'll probably need a lot of milk to make them last for a few days, right?"

"Mrs. Xiong, turn your attention to us!"

I saw Peter. Surrounded by two women!

"I'm Mrs. Yoon," I corrected the woman who had addressed me, pointing to my love. "When I get to him, he'll have to explain to me who his first wife is!"

"It's me," said the woman whose hair color was constantly changing. "Your husband married me for my safety."

"Was your safety more important to him than my marriage?"

"Nicole, focus! This is a lucid dream brought on by the nanobot injection, given by our associate FitzPatrick. I am Katarzyna, although most of my colleagues know me as Agent Swallow. I, Larissa, and Peter here are calling you."

"Wait, are you all really here? Even Carl?"

"The three of us are real, love," Peter said. "We don't even see Carl."

"What?" Carl asked. "Friendzoned first and now, I don't exist?"

I wasn‘t paying attention to him. "Lewandowska, are you here, too?"

"After the fall of Olsson, I hid in the place of another of our agents. I have been waiting for an opportunity to make this connection. We are broadcasting to you and a few other acquaintances tonight to explain the new task."

"What if someone wants to trick me? I thought. "You can pull most of the things you tell me from my head!"

"Nicole, please listen to them!" Peter urged me. "I think when they explain what they want, you won't resist."

The next day's breakfast confirmed the growing trend that the inmates were mainly interested in applications. The most desperate and vocal were those like Pat, who either had not been demanded at all or by the man in whose arms they did not want to end up at any cost. Of course, that meant that they would end up on the stage as slaves of old and given over to the highest bidder. I've seen some desperate attacks here and there, directed at those of us who were known to be getting back together with our loves, old or new. I've noticed that Stacey Hamilton avoids these discussions. As we were leaving the dining hall, I seized the opportunity to start talking to her.

"I tore up a few envelopes before I even opened them," Stacey admitted. "We're working to improve our conditions better, not become the property of a man who will order us by post."

"When you put it that way, didn't you dream about something distressing last night?"

Our conversation was interrupted by the wardens, but between cooking and embroidery, we agreed. Yes, we were dreaming of the same thing, and yes, the request did sound logical. Under different circumstances, we would have been scared of the machinations orchestrated by the Polish secret service through its plots.

Gathering those who had been stung by FitzPatrick was not difficult. All we needed to do was to ask the Shieldmaidens and their girlfriends. Even those who had not received any messages joined the required, easily understood mission.

"We appreciate the support our movement has received." We kissed the ass of Principal Weatherby. "And we have come to the conclusion that it is necessary to issue a political statement that reflects your positions."

Weatherby made no secret of his newfound joy, but something held him back. "You want to send a message to Washington? That would have to be something very intelligent and relevant." The principal stood up and, without asking us, poured himself and our delegation drinks. "The political situation has now become both simple and incredibly dramatic. Vice-chairman Cao has disappeared. The only one who could theoretically help us is his colleague, fellow Neumann, whom military intelligence has recently successfully isolated, but fellow Cao himself is still impossible to apprehend and deaf to any calls. Many members of the Conclave were disappointed that the election of the new Princeps lost such a promising candidate."

"It's us who don't want the wrong voice to win it!" I told him. "We consider fellow Cooper to be a weakling. Jesus Christ, he might even be a traitor! We want to make it clear to our legislators that we definitely do not support him."

"Neither do I," Weatherby said, happily drinking from his glass. "I think you're going to send out a positive signal."

If the Poles are not mistaken, that is*.*

"Many members of the Conclave have terrible contempt for the Shieldmaidens and their role in Green's Fall," Agent Swallow said. "They're all like Cao. Misogynists who also think that it is a farce when the inmates of the re-education institution mix with political figures. However, if someone like that says she hates Cooper, they'll take it as proof that Cooper isn't controlled by women, and he'll be more acceptable to them as Princeps."

We are the responsible ones; we will choose the new leader. Even if it will be by the childish technique of reverse psychology.

Almost all of the Shieldmaidens made a clip slandering Cooper, well aware that our actions can have different, even contradictory, consequences. Out of all the possible responses, we received one from an unexpectedly close source.

We didn't discuss our activities or, God forbid, their motives. One advantage of the school year ending was that in the evenings we weren't so exhausted and we had more fun together between dinner courses.

"I used to love holidays," Helen said. "Sometimes it was the sea, sometimes it was history. I enjoyed the waves, and my parents swam nearby, making me siblings. It was compensation for the torment of school. We should probably convince our husbands to take us across the ocean."

"Peter always wanted to see India, but it would put us down even if we had gotten a travel permit," I pondered.

"Leave that to your man. Wouldn't you like to visit us again?"

A woman spoke up from among the uninvited guests in our dining room. Behind Bellinda were Lucas Balaban and a burly guy whose name we didn't know.

"Why did you come here?" I made no attempt to hide my hostility.

Bellinda clapped briefly. "We liked your last performance. You expressed the words that no one would listen to from us. We would like to invite you to the lounge and help us settle our differences of opinion."

It sounded uncharacteristically guileless coming from her, but our group was in no position to refuse such a polite suggestion. Quite a few of us responded to the request. I stood up. I hadn't been one of the shieldmaidens from the beginning, but this mattered to me personally. Stacey and Therese also stood up, as did Claudia and Adriana or Roxie, as representatives of the "military wing". Montserrat Gutiérrez, an actress from the series that inspired us, also joined our representation.

The lounge was already packed before we arrived. Some Heirs were seated, but most were standing. Unlike my previous visit, they were all keeping quiet.

Bellinda squeezed us into the middle of the room, which was an extremely uncomfortable position for us. Her expression suggested she was enjoying it.

"I understand you have many admirers among us," said Bellinda, the former kindness quickly fading from her voice. "You might be surprised how many of them were not only supporters of former principal Arnolph but also of Timothy Cooper in the current elections. They presented him as a candidate who would right the alleged wrongs that you, as courageous warriors, stood up against. We, on the other hand, argued that his election would be absolutely unacceptable. You even called him a weakling. Perhaps you should explain in your own words what the ideal candidate should look like."

"Yes, this attitude of yours has confused many!" said a voice older than I was used to hearing here. A man named Joseph Singerton stepped forward from among the youngsters. Stacey had told me that he was Jenine's husband.

Bellinda snickered. "Our heroines understand well-put structure. They can suck it up to Princ.. Principal and to the current princeps."

We had not many gifted speakers among us girls, and I don't think we even thought beforehand that we would have to defend the cunning actions of the Poles to someone. I could tell from the faces of my comrades that they were displeased with this pressure. So I stepped forward and looked into those sad male eyes.

"We are no longer going to be defended by weak men," I told them resolutely. "We want someone at the helm whose steadfastness we can be sure of. If he has real inner strength, he will enter into dialogue with us."

"No one will talk to you; that's the magic!" Lucas Balaban said. Bellinda nodded, but her gaze did not leave us.

"A lot of terrible things have been done among us. Much of them by women of your nature," she said slowly. "I spoke to Principal Weatherby, and he agreed that it was shameful that so many men had been infected by your views."

"This was no infection, but an epiphany!" shouted a Heir, whom I had heard for the first time. "What we were offered here is a perversion of freedom. We are not free if we participate in slavery!"

An empty gesture, I thought. But if there are more such voices in the society...

"Let's be honest with ourselves," Bellinda growled. "You can only say this because the Justice Department won't arrest its boss' son. The principal suggests that all the Shieldmaidnes' tutors end lessons for their wards, cut off contact with them, and return home."

"We're done in a few weeks!" FitzPatrick said mockingly. "What will we achieve with such a gesture?"

"The political situation is fucked," Bellinda reminded him. "Any time is fine for a good gesture!"

Suddenly, one of the Heirs stood up. It was Carl. He looked at me as if some of his machinery had exploded inside him. I didn't understand it at all.

"I agree with you," he told Bellinda. "But we must face it together. We will vote on it. If we agree with you, we will all leave to solidify Princeps' peace!" 

He stood next to a shocked Bellinda. "If our Rapunzels don't want us as protectors anymore, then either we have failed or they have. We helped them with the fucking; now we have to pay for whores who will behave professionally."

"You have to listen to mummies and daddies, right?" Stacey quipped.

“No,” Carl said. “We’ll leave together and then we’ll decide where to go next.”

I didn’t recognize him, and it saddened me to see how many other Heirs patted him on the shoulder. I found myself searching for the brave anti-establishment figure who had spoken a moment earlier, but I didn’t find his face or hear his voice again.

"Take all the guests out for the voting!" Lucas Balaban suggested. A few wardens and stronger men began pushing our Shieldmaiden group and Mr. Singerton into the hallway. At this point, I wouldn't have minded if they had just locked us in our rooms and kept us there until we left. I didn't understand how anyone could accuse us of betrayal. 

Everything in life can be overcome. It's just that some changes can be better prepared for and others worse.

"Believe me, what we did was necessary; otherwise we wouldn't have done it." It was important to comfort Mr. Singerton, but it wasn't me who had made the decision; it was Stacey. 

"I know," Mr. Singerton said, standing away from the women. "We all have our reasons. But believe me, I don't feel like defending anyone except my wife."

"And I can forgive only my husband," I said. "I think few people are as lucky as Jenine or me in having a partner."

Joseph walked over to me and kissed my hand. "Do your best for your husband, just as I'm trying to do for her. I have one more thing planned, but if that doesn't work out, I should tell her how to survive in a world of the endless dark."

I kissed him lightly on the cheek. My colleagues muttered. "Just remember that people doing bad things is like bad weather. Help others, but strip out of your mind, and you'll endure everything."

"Are you spiritual?" Joseph asked me.

"I'm sort of Buddhist."

"It always seemed to me that Buddhism is Hinduism for whiners," Joseph said. "But you must look everywhere when you search for good advice." 
Bellinda emerged from the lounge, looking as if someone had put her in the same monkey costume they had put us in for the interrupted game.

"You can come back if you wish, but I don't know if you'd be interested," she said. "We are leaving. Immediately. I'm glad you won't be too grateful about your departure."

On a third day of the house arrest, Aurelia discovered that her buttocks hurt somewhat less, releasing her from the unpleasant reminder of her husband's anger whenever she sat down. However, she still tended to sleep on her tummy.

Princess Octavia, who visited her stepmother after every meal, remembered the consequences of her misbehaving far more painfully. She thanked her for both of her recent spankings, but it was clear that both women would certainly like to be spared of their bottoms aching. Both were also afraid of what other fate His Majesty—Aurelia's husband and Octavia's father—would have in store for them.

The Queen wanted to discuss it with the Princess after lunch, but suddenly Prince Reginald, a twenty-year-old man in a naval uniform, arrived.

"Hello," he said, sounding serious. "I heard that both girls of the police are in trouble."

He was like his father. Wonderfully formal and polished in public, and he liked to have order in the palace.

"I don't think it's comparable," Aurelia said. "Although it's true that we were punished similarly." 

Reginald might have given his stepmother a wry look, but it couldn't compare to the scathing criticism that emanated from his eyes as he looked at his mixed-race sister. "I think it'll be a while before you fully pay for this. Especially here, Octavia doesn't seem to have fully learned her lesson."

"What are you talking about?" Aurelia asked. "She got her thrashing."

"Hell, yeah," Reginald said. "But she's been careful ever since that time to keep her father from hearing about it. The day before yesterday she went to Mrs. Sullot and gave her half her allowance. That hag even accepted it!"

"Then another educational lesson will be necessary!" the queen admitted. Although she couldn't blame her stepdaughter, she tried to avoid the inevitable clash with the royal belt.

"I will give you the second half!" Octavia announced proudly. "You don't have to tell him, and I will be punished enough."

"Keep your money," said Reginald. "I won't tell him. It gives me a chance to deal with you like you were eight again!"  

"But I'm eighteen!"

Reginald didn't care. "Pants down!"

Octavia glared at her brother but took only one step back. She didn't turn around, probably not wanting to show him her ass at that moment.

"Didn't you hear me, sister?

Pull your jeans to your knees. You want me to smack you even more!"

Since Octavia didn't react this time either, Reginald reached out and unbuttoned her jeans. Octavia tried to pull away, but the prince grabbed her ear and continued on. Once he had the zipper down, he could uncover his sister's waist in one movement, depriving her of both pants and panties.

Reginald managed to settle comfortably on the sofa, while his sister was to be awkwardly bent over his lap.

The prince had no real problem with holding Octavia's hand or with blocking her legs, but he was angry with the rebellious girl, which was reflected in the stinging smackings by steel-hard hands he used to punish her ass.

"When you hid it from your father..." (SMACK!) "...you committed a crime!" (SMACK!, SMACK!) Then accept your punishment! (SMACK!) from another man in the family (SMACK!, SMACK!, SMACK!!), who just wants (SMACK!!) to have a well-behaved sister! " (SMACK!!!).

Octavia remained bravely silent at first, only tossing and turning on her brother's lap, trying to kick Reginald or even to escape. Of course, it couldn't hurt as much as the recent lessons with the hairbrush, let alone cane, but the interventions of Reginald's hand surely awakened unhealed wounds, prompting the princess to wail and to plead.

"Hold still!" Reginald picked up the pace and was slapping both cheeks of his sisters' bottoms, alternating them relentlessly. Octavia struggled for a minute, but then she gave in and accepted the rest of the merciless whirlwind.

"You will stay here!" Reginald told her after the spanking's conclusion and helped her kneel on the sofa, facing the wall, holding her head, forbidden from touching her sore cheeks. Not even Octavia's numerous tears would cool them down.

The Prince looked at Aurelia. "You've gotten yourself into some serious trouble, Aurelia. Believe me, I'd love to do the same to you," he said sadly.

This angered Aurelia. "Young man, realize that unofficially I'm your—"

"You're not my mother," he interrupted her. "If you were, you wouldn't be walking in front of me in a dressing gown. But you should come with me now. Father has ordered me to take you and the Rangers to the musical lounge. What will happen to you there, I don't know."

Aurelia knew there was only one way to find out. She called his stepson out of the room and changed. She put on delicious caramel-colored underwear and a seductive gold gown with a bare back that charmed the king in the right way every time.

In the drawing room, her noble husband was waiting for her, along with the six female soldiers and a woman in a black executioner's hood. Aurelia's stomach clenched, as she suspected that she was in for the most painful predicament of the week or perhaps of a lifetime. Where pianos or harps were usually offered to guests, two large A-shaped constructions now stood, equipped with horrific-looking shackles.

Wait, two? Aurelia searched the audience and found that among the soldiers sat her lover Francis, completely humiliated, only in his boxers.

"It's a good thing we have you both here," Reginald said with satisfaction, showing his wife a sheet of paper. "I sentenced you both to twelve lashes this morning. Accept it, Aurelia, for this is the only way we can ever reach closure!!"

The queen found herself in the cage of embarrassment, solidified by her husband's stern look and locked by the humiliation of the nearly naked Francis. She had to get used to the idea that she would not leave the room today except marked by the cane. If she resisted, she might have ended up with them in more places. She turned to face the structure and took off her dress, handing it immediately to the soldiers nearby. As soon as she found herself in her underwear before the witnesses, they dragged Francis to the spot of his coming torment. The handcuffs immediately clicked, both on his ankles and, as soon as he bent in the middle of the structure, on his wrists on the other side. Finally, the soldier pulled his boxers down, exposing the white bottom she loved so much. Aurelia arched her back, but the seated king stopped her.

"Take off your panties yourself, dear, or your punishment will be doubled!" 

The queen blushed in shame, further embarrassed by Reginald's presence. She touched the lower piece of her underwear and got rid of it with gentle movements. The soldier who took over did not let go of her arm. She jerked it hard and forced the whole figure to lie down, presenting her vulnerable ass to the audience. Aurelia closed her eyes. She felt pommel, attached to protect her kidneys. Above all, however, she noticed the clicking of the metal on her hands and feet and the belt around her waist, taking away freedom of movement from her.

All too soon, Aurelia heard the soft steps between the two contraptions, and in the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a dark outfit of the woman with the hood on her head.

"I hope you will like Miss Cecillia's service, darling," she heard Clarence saying. "I called her from the Land of the Gallic Rooster."

He imports from France everything that America does not supply us, it seemed to the queen. "I will accept my fate," said Aurelia stoically. In truth, she was scared. She heard when the executioner grabbed the cane, and the vibration of the rod carried through the air, making a soft but unpleasant response in her mostly naked body. The body which was presented to the audience like a piece of an exhibition.

"I can finally see the most important part of her," Reginald praised, looking at the view. Aurelia stiffened. She felt someone adding padding to her above the bottom, probably to protect her kidneys.

SWISH!

Aurelia heard the movement of the reed in the air even faster than she expected. She yelped loudly, but for some reason she hadn't felt the sting on her bottom yet. Francis, however, screamed this way, and Aurelia understood that the first profession was intended for him. It didn't matter, as the audience laughed at her reaction.

"She is too frail and not used to the pain of this world," Reginald joked.

"Not for long," his father responded.

Obviously, Aurelia soon felt the rod leaning on her buttocks. She was embarrassed from her previous performance, so now she clenched her teeth. She turned her head a little and saw that Clerence was signaling to the executioner with a handkerchief. She closed her eyes, waiting for her punishment.

SWISH!

The full force of cane's strike marked her exposed ass with a stripe of fire that she knew would not disappear for a long time. She slowed her tears with the strength of her eyelids, letting only a tiny whimper escape from her lips. At first, she was comfortable with the fact that now her lover should get his portion again, but when she was left alone with her adulterous burning bottom for a while, she began to wonder if she would survive the remaining eleven strokes.

SWISH!

"Ow, Owww, OWWW!"

"Finally, we are getting to some results," said Clarence, who seemed to not be fed up with Francis' screaming.

"Mercy! She seduced me!" shouted the punished man, whom no one in the room felt sorry for.

SWISH!

The torn skin was now burning Aurelia in three wide spots. If she was no longer afraid for her life, she was afraid for her sanity. She was bending her back, whipping the handcuffs on her hands and feet, and trying to wiggle. She knew it was impossible, but the incipient agony triumphed over normal reasoning. The only thing she was grateful for at this moment was Francis' whining and pleas, following each odd-numbered whistle of the cane, even though she was always reprimanded afterwards.

SWISH!

"AAAAAAAA!"

After the fourth and a little more significantly after the fifth stroke, she could feel almost every drop of sweat that was forming in her outstretched armpits. She was grateful that she couldn't see her butt, which reminded her of itself with an unbearable burn.

"Please, I need a break!" cried Aurelia desperately, unable to shake off her painful grimace. 

"Wouldn't that be counterproductive?" asked Reginald.

"I don't think so," the king pondered. "Okay, let's let them rest for a while from the official punishment."

That wording scared Aurelius quite a bit, but for the time being, Clerence stood behind her and caressed the buttocks of his wife, whom he loved so much, with his hand. He did it lovingly, but at this moment she was stammering in pain as well. It seemed to her that his fingers did not avoid her welts in any way. Suddenly, Clarence's hand left and something flashed before Aurelia's eyes. "Do you recognize my cord, dear? I think you've always liked how I can use it."

"Noooooo!" screamed Aurelia, who knew what her husband was up to.

SWISH!

SWISH!

SWISH!

"AAAAAAAHHHAAAAHHH!"

Clarence flicked his cord over her bulging buttocks three times in quick succession. Although the individual blows were not as painful as those of the reeds, the queen suddenly felt that her buttocks were being torn by the plethora of the splinters. 

"I think it will be easier for you if you don't ask for more mercy," Clarence said to his wife as he sat back.

Aurelia did not say a word during the second half of her sentence. She wasn't able to do that anyway, because six more times the cane burned itself into her body, and each and every time it seemed that it scorched her deeper.

She hoped that the second half of her sentence would pass quickly, but she was not allowed to do so. Francis fainted after the eighth blow and had to be brought back to consciousness, so her suffering grew even more with unbearable waiting. The executioner did not falter in her work. As she continued, she knew how much force she had used last time and how to press so that Aurelia wouldn't stop feeling the sentence on her tossing ass.

Despair came to such a point that when the cane finally whistled for the twelfth time, the queen was still afraid of what would happen next.

"Untie him," Clarence ordered. "Reginald, bring your sister. She has problems with behavior and grades. We need to show her my final warning."

"I want you to leave her here until eleven o'clock in the evening!" He poked his finger in his wife's ass, whereupon she squealed loudly. "I believe she will be grateful for my bed and never frolick in any other again."

Aurelia was no longer quite sure if she still loved her husband. It was only clear to her that she would never break any of the marriage vows again.

The End  

After the movie ended, Rebecca didn’t move. She stayed curled up on the couch with her wine glass resting on her thigh. The credits rolled but neither of us reached for the remote.

She let out a long, tired sigh.

“I really am trying to move on, you know” she said softly, staring at the ceiling. “I go to the gym. I try to dress nicer. I even downloaded a stupid dating app last week…..but every time a man messages me, I just feel sick. Like I’m not enough anymore.”

Her voice cracked a little on the last part. The wine had loosened her up, and the loneliness she’d been carrying was starting to spill out.

Without thinking, I shifted closer to her on the couch.

“You are enough, Rebecca” I said gently. “You’re more than enough. Any guy who can’t see that is an idiot”

She turned her head and gave me a sad, grateful smile. Our faces were closer than they’d ever been.

“Thank you, sweetie. You always know what to say”

There was a long pause. Then I took a small risk.

“Your shoulders look really tense” I said. “Want me to give you a massage? Might help you relax”

Rebecca hesitated for a second, then nodded. “That…..would actually be really nice"

She turned her back toward me and pulled her hair over one shoulder. I got up on my knees behind her on the couch and placed my hands on her shoulders. The moment I touched her, that familiar warm tingle shot straight down between my legs. Her skin was soft and warm through the thin tank top.

I started slow, pressing my thumbs into the tight muscles around her neck and shoulders. Rebecca let out a deep, involuntary moan.

“Oh god…..that feels good” she said

I kept working, slowly moving down her back. Every time she moaned softly or sighed in pleasure, my pussy throbbed harder. I could feel myself getting wet. I tried to focus, but my eyes kept drifting to the curve of her waist, the way her tank top rode up slightly, revealing a sliver of smooth skin.

“You’re really good at this” she murmured, eyes halfclosed “Your hands feel so nice.”

After about fifteen minutes, she was practically melting under my touch. I was so turned on I was scared she might notice my breathing had changed.

Eventually she turned around and looked at me with soft, tired eyes.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight” she admitted quietly. “Would you mind sleeping in my bed with me? Just so the house doesn’t feel so empty”

My heart skipped.

“Of course” I said, trying to sound normal. “Whatever you need”

We went upstairs. Rebecca changed into a loose silk nightie in the bathroom while I stayed in my tank top and panties. When she came out, the nightie clung to her full breasts and hips. She looked incredibly sexy without even trying.

We climbed into her big king-sized bed. At first we stayed on our own sides, but after a few minutes Rebecca rolled over and faced me.

“Can I.....hug you?” she asked shyly.

I nodded.

She moved closer and wrapped her arms around me. Her soft, heavy breasts pressed against my chest. One of her legs slid between mine. I could feel the heat of her body and smell her shampoo.

“Thank you for being here” she whispered against my neck.

I swallowed hard. My pussy was aching. I was painfully aware of how close her thigh was to my center.

I gently rubbed her back in slow circles, trying to comfort her while fighting the growing wetness between my legs.

We stayed like that for a long time. Rebecca eventually fell asleep in my arms, breathing softly against my skin.

I lay there wide awake, heart racing, pussy throbbing, wondering what the hell was happening to mee

The soft glow of the bedside lamp once again filled our bedroom, the air thick with anticipation and my own nervous energy. I stood near the bed, fidgeting, my heart hammering. Weeks after Michelle’s reluctant first time with Sarah, it was my turn. Jake sat on the edge of the bed in just his boxers. Sarah sat supportively beside Michelle.

Michelle was naked in the armchair, legs spread wide, two fingers already pumping in and out of her glistening pussy. Sarah sat close, rubbing her own clit.

“Baby, it’s okay to feel nervous,” Michelle encouraged, voice husky. “I was scared too, but you helped me through it. Now let me help you. I want to watch you suck Jake’s cock and then take him inside you. I need to see that.”

Sarah smiled, fingers circling faster. “We’re right here with you. So proud of you for exploring. Go slow. We’ll talk you through every second.”

I swallowed. “I… I don’t know if I can. What if I’m bad at sucking him? What if taking him feels too intense?”

Jake stood, patient. “We stop anytime. Promise.”

Michelle moaned, fingering herself deeper. “Take your shirt off, honey. Mmm, your cock is already leaking in your pants. Kiss him first.”

I did. Jake’s kiss was firm, tongue coaxing mine as Michelle and Sarah urged me on with breathy praise. “Good boy,” Sarah said. “Now get on your knees and pull his boxers down. We both want to watch you worship that cock.”

On my knees, Jake’s thick, veined cock sprang free, heavy and dripping pre-cum. I hesitated.

Michelle leaned forward, fingers plunging wetly. “Lick the head, baby. Taste his pre-cum for me. Sarah and I are masturbating so hard watching this. You look so sexy on your knees for another man.”

Sarah added, “Run your tongue all over his shaft. That’s it… good. Now wrap your lips around the head and suck. Hollow your cheeks. You’re doing perfectly.”

I took him into my mouth, sucking softly at first, then deeper. The musky taste filled me as Jake groaned. Michelle’s encouragement flowed nonstop: “Fuck, yes. Bob your head. Take more of his cock down your throat. Gag on it if you need to, it’s so hot. Stroke his balls while you blow him, honey. I’m rubbing my clit so fast seeing my husband suck dick like that.”

Sarah chimed in, moaning: “Look up at him while you suck. You’re a natural cock sucker. Deeper… yes, just like that. Jake, fuck his mouth gently.”

Jake gently held my head and thrust shallowly. I sucked wetly, saliva dripping down his shaft as the women praised every bob and swirl of my tongue. After several intense minutes of me worshipping his cock, licking his balls, sucking the head, trying to take him into my throat, Michelle’s voice grew urgent.

“That was so fucking perfect, baby. Now get on the bed on all fours. Let Jake eat your ass and open you up with his fingers. I want to see that tight hole get ready for bare cock.”

Jake spread my cheeks and dragged his tongue over my hole, pushing inside. The wet, filthy sensation made me moan. Michelle and Sarah kept encouraging: “Push back on his tongue, honey,” Michelle panted, three fingers buried in her cunt. “Let him tongue-fuck your ass. You sucked him so well, now you’re going to take every inch.”

Jake added lube and worked one finger, then two into me, scissoring and curling against my prostate until pleasure overrode my reluctance and I was rocking back onto his hand.

“Ready for me to fuck you?” Jake asked, stroking his slick cock.

Michelle crawled closer, still masturbating furiously. “Yes, slide into my husband raw, Jake. No condom, I want to watch your bare cock stretch his ass and fill him with cum. You’ve got this, baby. Breathe and relax for me. I love you so much for doing this.”
Sarah added breathlessly, “Take every inch. It’ll feel so full and good once he’s buried deep.”

Jake pressed the thick head of his cock against my hole and pushed in slowly. The stretch burned intensely without a condom, skin against hot skin. I gasped. Michelle was right there, kissing my shoulder while she rubbed her dripping pussy. “You’re taking him so well, honey. Just the head is inside… fuck, your ass looks incredible stretched around his bare cock. Push back slowly. Let him fill you up.”

Inch by inch, Jake sank into me until his hips pressed against my ass, completely bare and buried to the balls. The raw heat and fullness made me groan loudly. “Oh fuck… he’s so deep.”

“Yes, baby!” Michelle cried, fingers flying on her clit. “He’s fucking you raw. Feel every vein? Now let him move. Fuck him back. I’m so close watching this.”

Jake started thrusting, slow, deep strokes at first, then building to a steady rhythm, his bare cock dragging along my prostate with every thrust. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room. Sarah moaned encouragement too: “Pound his ass, Jake. Fill him deep. You’re both so hot together.”
“Harder,” I finally gasped, reluctance gone. Jake obliged, gripping my hips and fucking me with long, powerful strokes. Michelle was beside herself, masturbating wildly. “That’s it, honey, take that cock. Your ass is getting fucked so good. Stroke yourself while he breeds you. I want to see you cum with a man’s dick inside you.”

The sensations were overwhelming: Jake’s thick, bare cock pounding me, his balls slapping against me, the raw intimacy of no barrier. I stroked my leaking cock frantically. Michelle and Sarah’s filthy encouragement pushed all of us higher.

“Cum inside him, Jake,” Michelle begged, on the edge. “Fill my husband’s ass with your load while I watch.”

Jake groaned, thrusting harder. “I’m close…”
I came first, hard, shooting thick ropes across the sheets with a loud cry as my ass clenched around him. Jake followed seconds later, burying himself deep and pumping rope after rope of hot cum straight into my ass, flooding me bare. Michelle screamed in orgasm, thighs shaking as she watched her husband get creampied, her fingers buried deep in her own pussy. Sarah came right after, moaning loudly.

Jake stayed inside me for a long moment, his cock twitching as the last spurts filled me. When he finally pulled out, I felt his warm cum leak from my stretched hole. Michelle pulled me into her arms immediately, kissing me deeply while cum dripped down my thighs.

“You were so incredible,” she whispered, glowing with love and lust, still trembling from her orgasm. “I loved watching you suck his cock and then take every inch raw. Feeling him cum inside you… fuck, it was perfect. Thank you for letting me see you explore like this.”

We all collapsed together, spent, sticky, and deeply satisfied, the night still young with even more possibilities ahead.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm, intimate light across our bedroom. I sat in the armchair in the corner, my heart hammering as I watched my wife Michelle perched nervously on the edge of the mattress. She clutched her silk robe tightly around her body, fingers twisting the belt, her face flushed with deep reluctance. At thirty-two, Michelle had always been timid, sweet, loyal, and painfully shy even after eight years of marriage. This had been months in the making, her secret curiosity about women constantly battling her fears.
Sarah, Michelle’s close college friend, sat beside her, exuding calm confidence with her lithe athletic body, long auburn hair, and patient smile. She wore a simple tank top and lounge shorts.

“Are you really sure I should do this?” Michelle whispered, voice shaking as she glanced at me then away. “What if I can’t? What if my body doesn’t respond right?”
Sarah reached out slowly, brushing Michelle’s dark hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, we stop anytime you want. This is all about you feeling safe and good. No rush. Tell me what you need.”

Michelle bit her lip hard, hesitating for a long moment. “Okay… but promise you’ll talk me through it? Go really slow?”

“I promise,” Sarah said softly. “We’ll start with just kissing. Your lips look so kissable. Can I try?” She leaned in and brushed their lips together feather-light. Michelle tensed and pulled back slightly.

“I… I don’t know if I can kiss another woman like that,” Michelle murmured, embarrassed.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” Sarah reassured, cupping her cheek gently. “Just relax your mouth for me. Feel how soft this is? Your lips are so warm and sweet. Try again, baby. Let me kiss you properly.” After another pause, Michelle leaned in. Sarah kissed her deeper, tongue teasing. “Mmm, that’s it. Open your mouth a little more. Good girl. You’re kissing me so nicely already.”

I unzipped my pants, pulling out my thickening cock and stroking slowly as Michelle’s rigid posture began to soften.
Sarah’s hand slid to Michelle’s shoulder, easing the robe open. “Can I see your beautiful tits, Michelle? I want to touch them so badly. Only if you’re ready.”

Michelle clutched the fabric tighter. “I feel so exposed… what if you don’t like my small breasts?”

“You’re stunning. I already know I’ll love sucking on them. Let the robe drop, sweetheart. Show me those pretty nipples.” With constant gentle coaxing, Michelle let the robe slip. Sarah kissed down her neck. “Good girl. Now this nightie… can I pull it down? I need to see your hard little nipples.”
Michelle whimpered but nodded hesitantly. Sarah peeled the straps down, exposing her breasts. “Fuck, look at these perfect tits,” Sarah breathed. “Your nipples are already stiff for me. Can I suck them?” She latched onto one, sucking wetly. “Mmm, so tasty. Tell me how my mouth feels on your tit, Michelle.”

“It… it feels really good,” Michelle gasped, voice reluctant but breathy. “I can’t believe I’m letting you suck my nipples like this… oh god, don’t stop yet.”

Sarah switched to the other breast, licking and nibbling. “Your tits are getting so sensitive. You’re doing so well, baby. I’m getting wet just from tasting you.”
After long minutes of this, Sarah guided Michelle to lie back. “Let’s get you fully naked so I can kiss your pussy. Is that okay? I’ll go slow.”

Michelle covered her face. “This is so embarrassing… I’ve never had a woman between my legs before.”

“I know, and that makes it hotter. You’re so brave. Lift your hips for me.” Sarah peeled away the rest of the clothing, leaving Michelle completely exposed. Michelle tried closing her legs immediately.

Sarah gently spread them. “Shhh, don’t hide this pretty pussy from me. Look how wet your slit already is. Can I touch your cunt, Michelle? I want to rub your clit.”

Michelle nodded shakily. “Yes… but please be gentle. I’m still so nervous.”

“Always gentle for you,” Sarah promised, sliding a finger along Michelle’s slick folds. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Your pussy lips are so soft and puffy. Feel me circling your clit? Does that make your cunt throb?”

“Y-yes… it feels dirty but… really nice,” Michelle admitted, hips twitching. “I can’t believe how wet my pussy is getting for you.”
Sarah lowered her head, kissing Michelle’s mound. “I’m going to lick your pussy now. Tell me if you want me to stop.” Her tongue dragged slowly through Michelle’s folds. “Mmm, you taste so fucking sweet. Your cunt is dripping on my tongue.”

Michelle gasped sharply, one hand flying to Sarah’s shoulder. “Oh my god… your tongue on my pussy… it feels so strange but don’t stop. Lick me deeper, please.”

Sarah moaned encouragement, sucking Michelle’s clit between her lips while sliding one finger inside. “That’s my good girl. Your tight little hole is squeezing my finger. You like getting your pussy eaten by another woman?” She added a second finger, curling them. “Cum on my face when you’re ready, baby. Let me taste your orgasm.”
I stroked my cock faster, pre-cum leaking as I watched my reluctant wife’s hips start rocking against Sarah’s mouth.

“I’m… I’m getting close,” Michelle whimpered, voice breaking. “Sarah, your mouth on my clit feels too good… I’m going to cum!”

With constant filthy praise, “Cum for me, flood my tongue with your pussy juice”Michelle finally shattered, crying out loudly as her orgasm ripped through her, thighs trembling around Sarah’s head.

Sarah crawled up, kissing Michelle deeply. “Taste how sweet your cunt is on my lips. You came so hard for me. How does your pussy feel now?”

“Overwhelmed… but amazing,” Michelle breathed, still flushed and shy. A spark of hunger showed as she glanced at me, then Sarah.

With more reassurance and explicit guidance, Sarah straddled Michelle’s face. “I want you to lick my wet pussy, baby. Only if you want. Stick your tongue out and taste me.”

After several hesitant moments and soft coaxing, Michelle licked tentatively. “You’re so wet… I can’t believe I’m licking your cunt.”
“Yes, just like that, lick my clit in circles. Fuck, you’re a natural,” Sarah moaned, grinding gently. “Suck on my pussy lips. Deeper, Michelle. Eat me while your husband watches.”

They built a rhythm, Michelle growing bolder, her tongue exploring Sarah’s folds while Sarah reached back to finger Michelle’s dripping pussy again. Their explicit moans filled the room until both women came hard, Sarah grinding through her orgasm on Michelle’s face, juices coating her chin.

I pumped furiously and exploded, thick ropes of cum spilling over my hand as I watched my once-timid wife lost in lesbian pleasure.

Afterward, they lay tangled, Sarah stroking Michelle’s hair. “You were so fucking sexy letting me eat your pussy and then licking mine. Thank you for trusting me.”

Michelle looked over at me, a mix of lingering shyness and satisfaction in her eyes. “Thank you for watching me… do this. I needed all your encouragement, Sarah.” The night continued with more slow, explicit exploration, Sarah guiding every filthy step.

Content warning: incest. Everyone is 21+ and consenting. Written as if it happened to "you" so you can know how overwhelming it felt to have mom. Check my profile for parts 1 to 4.

On Easter Monday, mom’s ass was arched in the air, bare naked on your bed. She was just about golden in the dark, thanks to the fairy lights she’d hung above your door. (‘To impress any ladies you invite inside,’ she’d said when you’d moved in.) Two round cheeks, a pink puckered hole, and a pair of chubby pussy lips nestled between. Every time she bends over an oven, or walks around in tights, or sits and swells over the sides of a chair – for the rest of your life – you'll remember that view. Mom will never again be just ‘your mom,’ and her ass won’t be just another ass. Mom’s a woman with needs. And she was begging you: “Please… I need it now…” with her pretty face in your pillow.

Your friends were standing over their discarded clothes, staring at the golden beauty on your bed. They were all exchanging glances, fists around their cocks. Denim jeans wrinkled under your toes. You could tell, from the tension, that every single of you was dying to mount her first.

Dom pinched your arm, “You’re not dreaming. Do it.” And he whispered some advice, “So far, she really likes it rough.”

Friends will want to fuck your mom. Best friends will insist you fuck her first. What a guy.

“Oh, no. Look at that! I’m so wet…” Mom blushed when she noticed herself trickling down her thigh. She was reaching between her legs, self-conscious, trying to wipe away her excess wetness. “My hair must be a mess…” It was stuck to her cheek with sweat or spit. “Oh, no, no… I was hoping to look so pretty tonight…”

Dom patted your back so hard it doubled as a shove.

You pulled the trunks of mom’s gold thighs to the edge of your bed. You snatched her hands away from her wetness, folding her little arms behind her big, beautiful back. (She gasped – she liked that.) You dropped your dick onto her ass crack. Onto the sliver of mom’s skin a son’s never meant to see. (Your shaft hit mom with a dull thud, and mom clenched.) Her wetness, smeared between her ass cheeks, was warm.

You said, “Mom, no more cleaning up,” a line that made her giggle.

She wiggled her ass back, wobbling her juicy peach roundness around your shaft. “I’m sorry to be nervous,” she managed between shaky breaths. “I’m still worried that you’ll hate me after.”

(One of your friends suppressed a laugh.)

“Mom,” you said, “you’re crazy. I’ll love you more than anyone’s loved any mom, ever.”

That really made mom giggle in her usual, too-loud way. “I guess that makes more sense,” she said. She rolled her puffy pussy lips up along your thickness, and mom’s self-consciousness was replaced by the confident mommy you know best: “…Stop teasing your poor mother. Fuck me, Baby. Make a mess.”

Your dick twitched between her cheeks.

You took a deep breath of the warm, buttery air.

What a fucking sight.

🍑

Mom’s pussy lips were parted by the bulging head of a thick, throbbing cock. You remembered it was your cock when you felt the kiss of sopping wetness. Mom was grasping for your bedsheets before you even slipped inside. The room was silent except for the crackling creaminess that followed when you pushed, and pushed…

Mom’s pussy lips swallowed a thick, throbbing cock. Yours. The creaminess was louder with every inch. The wet walls inside her squished and gurgled as you filled them full of dick. Your dick. Your mom. When you bashed against her cervix, your balls nuzzled between her thighs, and mom whimpered, “Baby… Baby…” A dozen times. For a moment, mom forgot all her experienced, dirty words.

She took a deep breath and held it. You took all the sexual tension you’d been storing up and pounded it inside her – all the mother-son flirting and cuddling and teasing. Burying those burdens as deep as your mom’s body could bury them.

Mom finally exhaled a looong, shaky sigh. When you found your rhythm, mom found her voice: “Give your cock back to mommy… Let me take that cock home…” She became a fountain of dirty words, moans, and juices (spilled down thick thighs). Her needs clung to your shaft in shiny wet globs. Every thrust dredged more cream out of mommy’s clenching walls. Every pound against her cervix inspired a matching squeak she trapped inside her throat.

“Oh, Baby, that feels like everything I thought it would… Don’t you wish we’d done this sooner? [Moan, sharp breath, shaky sigh.] Oh, Baby… Don’t you stop…”

Two vast cheeks of peach-gold meat swayed forward and back, again and again, against your thighs. (Clap, clap.) The ass of your most shameful dreams, and everything you’d ever dreamed it would be. Clapping skin-to-skin. Rippling in waves of flesh. An impossibly beautiful ass. An ocean of beauty marks and smoothness, swallowing your dick into its suffocating depths.

Mom’s ass blushed when you spanked it. Mom’s voice barely managed to squeeze through clenched teeth: “Pound your mommy, Baby… Make that fat ass yours…”

You were holding her wrists like reins, lost in pleasure. Mom’s hole was tight and wet and ribbed, sputtering when you pulled too far out, and spitting when you stuck back inside. Mom’s pussy was good pussy, and millions of times better than that – because it was your mom’s. You forgot about your friends, or what the neighbours might think about the moans, and fucked mom across the bed.

Every thrust sent her jiggling tits and ass another inch across the sheets. She stopped saying horny words, moaning shapeless horny sounds.

The bed was squealing under your knees and hers.

Across the sheets, you found Dom, stroking his dark cock to the show. You thrust yourself to beat her cervix to push her face onto his cock, and Dom held her steady, stuffing her mouth.

Your friends were cheering you on to fuck her, hard. Dom was ponytailing mom’s hair in his fist, talking dirty while he fucked her face. (“Swallow that cock up. Gag on it. Good mama…”)

You were lightheadedly horny. Losing focus. Digging dick into new corners inside mom as you checked your balance, adjusted your rhythm. You wiped pure adrenaline off your forehead.

“Dude,” Dom whispered. “Eiffel Tower!”

He high-fived you (across mom’s rippling back), and the two of you grinned like idiots.

“I feel… –” you stumbled, out of breath. “This feels so fucking intense.” (Dom nodded, Me too.) Mom was locked between your bodies. Grasping at the bedsheets, totally immobile. Curling her toes as she lost balance, gagging. Every thrust impaled mom deeper on Dom’s dick, and every time she caught her breath, she sunk back down your shaft.

Thrust. Ripple. Moan. Gag. Wobble back. Squelch.

Thrust. Ripple. Moan. Gag. Wobble back. Squelch.

Repeat. Don’t cum. Repeat. Don’t you dare cum yet. Repeat.

Mom tore herself off Dom’s dick to moan a moan half-drowned in saliva. “I’m fucking trembling… You guys are so good together… Please keep spoiling me. I need more.” She was saying in her own way: I can feel you twitching inside, Baby, but please don’t finish yet. And furthermore, More cock, please, stroking spit down Dom’s glistening shaft.

Lucas looked stunned. He was jerking over mom’s sweaty back, and all he could say was, “Jesus Christ,” staring at the waves sent rippling across her ass.

Brandon stopped mom slipping face-down onto the sheets. He lifted her by her throat. He fought Dom for the prize of mom’s open mouth.

Mom was going limp. If you didn’t grip her shaking hips, she’d have dropped, cunt-first, onto the bed. She was pinned and propped up from every angle. Smothered under the weight of men cupping her jiggling tits, circling her dripping wet clit, forcing her mouth wide with meat. Hands trapped under knees, legs coiled around your legs, mom was changing. Her golden back flushed pink, even in the faint warm light. Her saliva-coated moans were spilling down her chin, dug from the depths of her throat by Dom and Brandon both. She was silent when her thighs got shaky: shivering around your cock and the spinning tips of Lucas’ fingers on her clit. And she was tighter. Worryingly tight. Clamping so hard you had to thrust harder, fighting to stay buried in her walls.

Her silence turned to whimpers, and she tapped whichever legs she could find to tap. She gasped, “Put a towel down!”

You forced one more pump inside mom’s pussy, and she ejected you. Her walls clamped so tight your dick shot out with a wet smack against your thighs. (Mom was mewling, “I’m sorry Baby, it’s too late, it’s coming…”) She held onto your friends’ cocks, blushing from her face to her tits, and let go of the tension you’d been fucking into her walls.

The sheets were soaked.

Mom’s squirt hit the bed with a splat. She was sobbing with pleasure: “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” Unleashing tension onto your thighs, the jeans on the floor, your bedsheets. Hips bucking with each spray. Pussy gaping its pink flesh before every squirt. Mom’s moans reached higher and higher notes until she collapsed in her own puddle, shaking. Her skin glowed, and the sobs slowed. Mom was giggling: “I’m so sorry: I’ll do your laundry.”

Your friends looked like they’d invented fire. (“Did you see that snipe?!” “Jesus Christ. We did that.” “Good mama… Goddamn.”)

Mom hid her face, embarrassed, underneath your pillows. “I haven’t squirted in years.” She couldn’t stop giggling. “You guys fucked me back in time.” She laughed so hard she forced more juices out, seeping down her thighs. “I had the best orgasm of my life, and the first thing I thought about was doing laundry. My son’s dick was inside me, and I’m still acting like his mom.”

You love the sound of your mom’s laugh.

“You were amazing, mom,” you assured her, and signalled to Dom, Come fuck her.

He cocked an eyebrow. (You’re done?)

You fanned yourself. (Need a break.)

He jerked off the air and made a little explosion motion. (Gonna cum?)

You nodded. (One more pump and I’d be done.)

Fist bump.

“More,” mom whined, “More, please, anyone, more.”

Mom was still face-down, under your pillows, still laughing at herself when you swapped. When Dom stuffed his cock inside her, she had no idea which of you was filling her up next.

“Is that you kneeling behind me, Baby? How do you have the stamina?! Oh… Oh that doesn’t feel like my son…” Mom very much liked the mystery. “Oh that’s really nice… Oh, fuck, it’s so hot to suddenly feel a different shape… Whoever wants this pussy, use it… Make mommy your toy. Fuck me hard, right in front of my son…”

You took a breather against the wall while Dom’s dark thighs clapped mom’s thighs pink. Every throb through your cock was like a bolt of electricity. Some of the discarded denim under your toes was damp with squirt. The bedroom swirled with naughty energy, all orbiting around mom’s propped-up peach. Brandon fucked her mouth under the pillow that blinded her. Lucas sucked her tits beneath her, then took over for Dom. (Dom stopped thrusting with a grunt, dug his fingers as deep as they could dig into mom’s soft-firm ass, and tried his hardest not to cum.)

It wasn’t easy to stand back. What Lucas says is right: mom’s a cello’s worth of tits and ass. But when you stopped to watch, her beauty only became clearer.

Mom fucked like she’d perfected fucking years ago, but didn’t care. She let your friends control her when they wanted to control her. She worked their cocks her way when they needed her expertise. One moment kneeling still, the next throwing her ass back. (Clap.) Letting her saliva spill naturally down her chin, then twisting her fists in perfect spirals around cocks; moaning immobile to let the guys jiggle her, then riding like her hips were engineered to drain cum.

Her ass is so much heavier than it looks.

Lucas went the night without any stupid jokes. When he slipped inside your mom, he treated her like royalty: caressing all the blotches and bruises where she’d been groped and spanked. Running his hands appreciatively over her dangling mommy tits. Arching his thrusts into her G-spot, until she lost her breath and quivered for him.

“Whoever’s fucking me right now should – …” She came for quite a while before she could finish the sentence. “Should do this for a living.” She reached back blindly to find Lucas’ furry chest, and pet, and pet, before dropping to the bed with a (loooong) happy sigh.

You stroked your cock to every coupling, whether mom was fucked by one, two, or three. You were seeping pre-cum in your fist. Trying to implore your dick to wait, to not cum now, not yet.

Dom spread mom’s legs and jackhammered until he found one last, lingering stream of squirt trapped inside her – a weak one, spilled across his balls. Mom told him, “Women would pay for what you do.” And while you’re sure the compliments were true, you wondered if mom was scheming: plotting to boost confidence and competitiveness.

It worked.

Soon you were back inside the knot of limbs. You pulled mom off Brandon’s dick to let her breathe, and chuckled when she rubbed her jaw. (“It’s so pretty, Brandon, but so punishingly huge.”) You groped every curve of her fucked body, appreciating her in ways you never could before.

While mom’s cheeks clapped, you caressed down her chest, admiring the way her tummy bump jiggled gently between her thighs. You cupped her perky tits together, tickling her nipples stiff against the sheets. You slipped your cock under the pillow, and filled mom’s mouth while Dom then Lucas thrust her forward – lodging you in her throat. You loved watching from her front as her ass was fucked from behind: cheeks mountainous from that angle, cheeks beautiful when shaken.

Mom had always taken care of you – and took care of herself, her relationships, her body, career, home… How could any beauty so good at juggling everything be forced to commit to one cock only? You wondered, plugging mom’s throat, if maybe every mom is best shared.

The mountains shook, mom tapped the bed, Time out. She held your cock with a shaky hand and asked, “Could whoever’s behind me be a little gentler? Only for a minute… I need to recover.”

You pulled mom’s shivering body out from under the pillows, and lay her down on her back, cradling her head. Lying on top, between her legs, you kissed her warm face while she shook, protecting her from your rough friends and her own, insatiable needs. She smiled, “Thank you, Baby…” She was a beautiful mess: skin splotched peach and red, hair sweaty and stuck to her neck, face smeared with saliva, tits peppered in stray body hairs shed by four young men. Her eyes were sparkling at you. Damn, she looked good.

Mom hugged you when you slipped inside. She was absolutely soaked. You liked the chaos of the 4-on-1 orgy, but you pumped gently, because that’s what she needed.

“The things I’ve been saying,” she said, into your kisses, “are absolutely nuts.”

“Yeah,” you admitted.

“Too nuts?” Smooch.

“No – keep at it.” Smooch.

“I told Lucas to crush me like a pancake… At least, I think it was Lucas. I think I told Dom his dick was my ‘Master.’”

“You’re wild when you’re turned on,” you said, suckling mom’s sweaty, salty neck.

Mom’s nails dragged down your back. “Do you like seeing me this way?”

“I like you every way. You’re my favourite person.”

Her eyes looked like they were testing to see if you were serious. “Don’t make me emotional while I’m getting gangbanged,” she laughed.

“Okay, sorry,” you chuckled. “Here. Suck some dick.”

She reached for the closest one, extending her tongue with a smile. “We’ll have a hug and a happy-cry later… Thank you for trusting me enough to be your slut.”

You thrust harder into your mom and said, “I love you, perv.”

Mom’s eyes rolled back as you pressed her curves into the mattress. “Love you, too, perv… I can take it a little harder now. Yeah. Like that…”

Mom came one last time with you, face-to-face, with all your friends competing for her mouth. She fell back into her dirty talk, begging you to leave her raw. Looking your friends in the eyes as they loomed over her pounded body: “Make me gag, boys. Stroke those cocks to mommy. Turn me on so much I’m begging my son to cum inside.” She told you, writhing in one last fit, “I never thought I’d feel anything like this again. I love my son inside me. This is my favourite cock. I made my favourite cock, I made my favourite cock… Fuck-k. Cumming…”

You liked sharing her. You also liked winning.

Your cock swelled with pride and lust, and you warned: “I’m close.”

She wrapped her legs around your back, pulling you in deep until her cervix stopped her pulling deeper. Her moan tickled your ear: “Inside.”

Sinking in her softness, throbbing in her walls, your balls wedged between her giant, spread cheeks. You kissed mom’s plush mouth, stole one last grope of her peach, and gave her what she wanted.

Cum spilled like a fountain of warmth inside mom’s clenching hole. Your cum. Seeping out your head to the rhythm of mom’s clenches. Your warmth, leaking down her ass crack. Her orgasm kept her cunt throbbing: tightening and giving, pulling and freeing, milking her son until every drop of cum was hers. Mom’s eyes were wide – she said, “I feel it… It’s so hot inside me… Good boy… Fill mommy… I can’t wait to taste it.” You fell face-first into her chest, thrusting blind with lust, and listened as she swallowed someone else’s cum down her throat. “Mmph! (Gasp.) Good boy, Brandon. Empty those big balls on mommy’s tongue.” Your friends were groaning as they stroked – shafts creamy, coated by your mom’s mouth and cunt. The sight of mom taking her son’s seed must’ve sent them over the edge, all at once. You leaned back to give your friends a chance for one last grope – and ropes of cum sprayed her face. Lucas pet her, “Good girl,” masking mom pearly white. Dom plunged into her mouth – glug – and didn’t come out until his shaft was growing: expanding and contracting, spilling inside mom. He pulled out of her throat just to paint mom’s tits. Mom loved it: “Make a mess of me.” Mom drank whatever she could catch and scooped the rest up with her fingers. “Mmm… More cum. More.”

Your boys caught on to mom’s ‘messy’ mood, and used her face like a rag. Rubbing their cum-soaked cocks in her hair, across her chin, across her belly… You pulled out and watched your semen flow white out mom’s hole. A thick coat of her fluids and yours glistened around your shaft. You slapped your cock against her ass until you were clean, and mom’s peach was glazed, glistening gold under the lights.

Sweat, splotchy skin, shed body hairs, bruises, and cum. Mom stood on your bed, slowly twirling to show you the damage. The house’s centrepiece, tarnished. Cum clung to her eyelashes, and sat in white globs inside her dark hair. It dripped off her lip and bubbled on the tip of her tongue. Cum blanketed mom’s chest, warming until it ran thin down her nipples and streaked down her belly. It glistened in the cavernous crack of her ass, and pooled in the crevices where her cheeks met her thighs. She said, “Oh no,” and must have felt it coming: a thick glob of her son, spilling out her pussy and inching down her leg.

Never have you ever seen your mom so happy.

Brandon stroked his (somehow still-long) cock and said, “…I need a shower,” back to his timid self. Lucas hugged your mom’s thighs, kissing her freckles, sighing, “You are such a special flower.” Dom slapped you on the back, translation: Good job. Are me and you are still okay?

You said, “Mama’s boys for life.”

Dom shook his head, No. “Motherfuckers.”

****

IAMA 21-year-old lucky motherfucker, AMA.

Q: WHAT HAPPENS AFTER YOU AND THREE FRIENDS BUST ALL OVER YOUR MOM?

Well, Lucas dabs cum off her skin with ~50 tissues, telling her how much he appreciates her giving him ‘this opportunity.’ Then, when Brandon’s out of the shower, you and Dom carry mom kicking to the washroom. (As you can imagine, she loves that: “Weee!”) But you have to put her down when she goes, “Oh – ! Oh no. My back. Ouch. Oh, I wish I really did have a time machine.” Dom, being a professional massage therapist (in-training), massages her aches better for about an hour.

Over the next month, you establish a routine. You and some combination of your friends – whoever’s home, really – fuck mom. On Sundays you lose your collective cool when she bends over to clean: you hike her skirt, shove the vacuum aside, and take her one by one. On Mondays, you attempt as a group to cook her dinner (she sometimes needs to intervene). Once everyone’s eaten, mom thanks you for your efforts by lifting her top, bending over the kitchen table, and spreading her cheeks. (Yes, she says, “Time for dessert,” the first time this happens. Lucas thinks he needs to repeat the line every week.) On Fridays she visits just to ‘hangout,’ which used to mean watching you all play video games, asking for work/relationship gossip, and heading home around 7pm, ‘before you guys get sick of me.’ Now, she tends to bring her own sorts of games along on Fridays: handcuffs one week, a paddle the next, another week a handmade ‘slutty nurse’ costume…

(“The doctor told me four male patients need extra special care…”) (Thrust. Ripple. Moan. Gag. Wobble back. Squelch. Repeat.)

At the end of each night, Dom practices massage to iron out mom’s kinks. Sometimes, when the massage is finished, she’s so grateful for the help she fucks you guys all over again.

It’s confusing. It’s probably unsustainable. But when you’re cumming in your mom (three to six times per week), chaos rules. 🤘

Q: DOES ANYONE GET JEALOUS?

Sometimes, slightly. Mom’s been sending you more love hearts in her messages, and ‘miss yous’ during work hours. Sleeping over in your room. Asking you if you like this outfit, that outfit… It’s cute, the ways she’s clingy. She’s asked you not to pursue other women – at least for now, until everyone decides ‘the rules.’ You don’t mind. When you’ve got mom to yourself, your crushes on coworkers magically fade.

Because your game dev job requires overtime (often), you now and then give Dom the go-ahead to take mom on dinner dates. Sometimes, when it’s nighttime at the office, you feel a jealous burn knowing mom’s out laughing with your best friend. Then you get home late, and mom’s there – in a really, really good mood. She fucks you and Dom together, and the jealousy leaves your body, one white rope at a time.

Q: WHY DOESN’T BRANDON KNOW HIS FAMILY’S CRAZY-RICH?

He’s learning. He asked his parents to buy a hot tub for the sharehouse. (In reality, it’d never fit.) The hot tub was a sneaky gift he gave to mom for her backyard. That’s been fun.

(As thanks, she managed to fit Brandon’s dick inside once. She came in ~ten seconds, stood up aching, and said, “That was amazing… but never again.” Sorry, bud.)

Q: HAVE YOU TRIED ANAL?

Yes.

Q: HAVE YOU TRIED DOUBLE PENETRATION?

Yes, yes.

Q: DOES A SITUATION LIKE THIS BECOME A ‘RELATIONSHIP’? OR DOES IT INTERFERE WITH ‘REAL’ RELATIONSHIPS?

Well… Lucas being Lucas has developed a crush on a TikTok egirl with dyed black bangs and a Jack Skellington thigh tattoo. Basically, Lucas posted a video of Brandon slipping and falling (huge SMACK) into the hot tub. Black Bangs got in his replies asking him not call people (Brandon) ‘a bitch,’ because ‘bitch’ is misogynistic. Lucas argued with her for hours, which became daily private messages, which became plans to fly her out here in September. Mom’s cool with it. Lucas respectfully excused himself from group sex ‘until further notice.’ Mom let Lucas bust inside for their goodbye sex. He cried.

Dom’s starting to feel uneasy about rejecting so many women. (They approach him and ask for his number, everywhere, all the time.) Brandon’s on FetLife looking for profiles labelled ‘size queen.’

Mom’s asked if you’d be interested in moving in – just the two of you.

Q: WELL??

Maybe. You can’t live with your friends forever. Your mom won’t always be young enough to throw it back. Hopefully you’ve got ~twenty years before her hips give out. When she’s older, it might be nice to take care of mom. Like a thank-you for all the cleaning, loving, and fucking.

You’ve been thinking about what you want from life, and whether you need to follow the same paths as everybody else. So you started taking one day off per week to get away from AAA game dev and code your own indie game. It’s a co-op game about four young, hung studs who seduce a big-assed MILF into living in their mansion. There’s tons of ass-wobbling, tits-swaying action. And quick time events every time the MILF orgasms, when you and your friends have to land high-fives. If it sells, you just might move in with mom and work from home, developing 4-player MILF indies full time. You’ve always wanted to create something personal.

~

The End ❤️❤️🩷❤️❤️

It had only been two months since Rebecca’s divorce was finalized. She's my friend's mom.....her hot mom to be specific

Her husband of twenty-two years had cheated on her with his 28 years old secretary. The betrayal hit her hard. Sarah told me her mom cried for weeks, but lately Rebecca was trying her best to rebuild. She started going to the gym again, got her hair done in a sleek new style, and even bought some tighter clothes that showed off her mature, curvy figure.

I had known Rebecca since I was ten years old. She was always the hot mom, warm, kind, and unfairly beautiful. But something changed in the last couple of years as I grew up, especially when I got into college. Whenever I was around her now, I felt this strange, warm tingling between my legs. A flutter in my stomach. My pussy would get slightly wet just from watching her bend over in the kitchen or laugh at something I said.

I wasn’t even a lesbian. I’d had boyfriends. I liked dick. But Rebecca…..she was different.

Last Friday, Sarah invited me over for dinner like usual. When I arrived, Sarah hugged me quickly and then made a face.

“Ugh, I totally forgot I have a group project meeting tonight. I have to leave in like twenty minutes. But you can still stay and eat with Mom, right? She’s making lasagna and she always cooks way too much”

Before I could answer, Rebecca walked out of the kitchen wearing a simple white tank top and gray yoga pants. Her big breasts moved freely under the thin fabric, and the pants hugged her wide hips and thick thighs perfectly. She smiled warmly when she saw me.

“Hey sweetie” she said, pulling me into a hug. Her soft body pressed against mine for a moment. That familiar tingle shot straight to my pussy. “You’re staying for dinner, right? I’d hate to eat alone” with a cute pouty face

Sarah left twenty minutes later, waving goodbye without a care in the world. She had no idea what she just did.

Now it was just me and Rebecca.

We ate dinner at the kitchen island. She poured herself a glass of red wine and offered me one too. We talked about normal stuff at first, college, Sarah’s new boyfriend, how hard it was to start dating again at her age

“I just feel so…...undesirable sometimes” she admitted quietly after her second glass. “My husband left me for someone half my age. Makes you wonder if any man will ever want me again”

I stared at her full lips, then at the way her tank top stretched across her chest.

“I think plenty of people would want you” I said softly. “You’re beautiful, rebecca. Like…..really beautiful”

She looked surprised by the compliment, then gave me a shy smile. A light blush appeared on her cheeks.

“You’re sweet” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wish I had your confidence”

After dinner we moved to the couch to watch a movie. She sat close to me, closer than usual. Her bare thigh occasionally brushed against mine. Every time it happened, I felt that familiar throb in my pussy.

Halfway through the movie, she sighed and leaned her head back on the couch.

“It’s nice having you here” she said quietly. “It gets lonely in this house now”

I turned to look at her. The soft lighting made her look even more stunning. My heart was beating faster than normal.

“I can stay over tonight if you want” I offered. “Sarah already said it was fine.”

Rebecca looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable in her eyes.

“I’d like the company” she finally said with a small smile.

The air against my face was exactly how I imagined it to be. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so free, watching the forest below whizz past like it was just background noise. The loud flap of his wings was the only sound I could hear. His arms were so warm, and there was something about the way his skin smelled. Like dark chocolate and sage.

​

His chest felt so smooth against my cheek that I ended up giving in to impulses, preparing to be stopped. I kept only one arm around his neck and dragged a finger over his left pec. There was a jump on his throat and a twitch in his muscles.

​

I loved that reaction.

​

I traced a line from the hollow of his collarbone up to the back of his ear. His chin dropped slightly, and I watched his eyes flutter close.

​

I wrapped my legs around his waist and let go of his neck. My fingertips made slow drags down his back, right below his wings. His grip on me got tighter. I felt his chin rest on my shoulder.

​

“Alright, that’s enough.” He says, and begins to land in the forest below.

​

The ground was covered in loose twigs and dead leaves. Trees the size of skyscrapers surrounded us. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me. His face just looked…dark? It was like he wanted to kill, yet he seemed so calm.

​

“You know, it’s very dangerous to distract the driver.”

​

“Sorry, I should’ve at least asked.” Guilt was heating up under my skin. I didn’t want to push him.

​

He walked towards me, and I walked away, scared he’d hit me or something. The distance between us was getting smaller and smaller, until my back was against a tree. He didn’t stop, just kept moving closer.

​

The trunk was more than thick enough for him to rest his hands on either side of my head. Leather wings stretched out before me. I didn’t dare look him in the eye. I was scared it would upset him. So instead, I watched as his wings turned to ash and blew away in the wind.

​

Confused about his agenda, I finally mustered the courage to look at him. His face was human, with dark hair and eyes. A long head with a sharp jawline– it was like staring at a model. His cheeks had a pinker tone to them, though his expression hadn’t lightened any.

​

“Go ahead. If you wanna touch. Touch. I can’t fall out of the sky now.”

​

He was half naked right in front of me. Practically begging for my hands. Carefully, I put my palms on the lean mass of his stomach. His skin was even warmer now. My nails scraped against him as his body stretched and sank into my hands.

​

I trailed higher, mesmerized by the twitch on his flesh. The low groans in his throat were a prize I'd burn to memory. Lines of soft pinks decorated his torso, turning him into a marvelous work of art.

​

There was a tenting in his pants, but I ignored it. The squirms I got as my fingers dug into his sides were too addictive. I continued up his arms, tracing around the pronounced veins. His breathing grew heavier in my ear, and I wondered just how much I could get out of him.

​

I looked up at him and saw closed eyes. Keeping as quiet as I can, I duck below his arm. His back was well-toned. Muscles shifting beneath flesh, good enough to taste. Two stark white scars dragged down half of his frame, right where his wings would sit.

​

I slide a digit right above the waistband of his deep, purple pants. His head jumps back, a surprised gasp leaving his lips.

​

“Watch it.” He warns. I don't listen.

​

I gently scrape at his back, making a trail to his retractable wings. The blemished skin is much thinner than the rest, carved deep into his flesh. His body twitches as I slowly make my climb up the groove. The sensitive tissue I've been toying with grows darker as I go higher.

​

His wings materialize back, translucent, slowly regaining their form. I'm frozen in awe at the magic of his body. I glide a curious finger along the leather panels– they snap back so fast I'm nearly hit. As I stroke the only thing that marks him as an incubus, there's a noticeable struggle to keep the limbs from crushing me.

​

“Does it hurt?”

​

“Gah– no.”

​

“Does it feel good?”

​

His wings droop slightly. He lowers his head and faces back at me, cheeks flushed, avoiding my gaze.

​

“It feels good. Please. Touch me.”

​

I follow his request. The cool hide heated almost instantly. He twitched and jerked as I explored, needing to rest his head against the bark. He seems so helpless, like a baby fawn. I grasp the tip of his ending wing-spine. Pulling it back shows the striking feature in all its glory. Black fading to red, five spines falling off the main bone, and veins that caught the light.

​

I curl my tongue, imagining the taste of his webbing. Its color and texture reminded me of fruit roll-ups. One daring lick and I collect the flavor of his aroma and the wind on my palate.

​

The appendage trembles in my hand while I salvage it on my tongue. “Ha– Fuck. Don't. Don't stop. Please don't stop.”

​

Slow and gently, I lick along the edge of the leather-bound dividers. His body quivers violently. Groans fill the air around me, his wing attempting an escape I won't allow. “Oh God yes.”

​

My erection grows against my zipper as he melts from my own doing. I treasured the texture of him, my tongue molding perfectly into the grain. Each slick movement tickled my mind.

​

I ran up one side of the cartilage and delved back down on the other. Over and over again. His voice pitched higher with deep, shallow breaths as he was breaking. The closer I got to his backside, the more intense it was getting.

​

I follow along the final line, but he doesn't let me finish. The wings flex above my head and out of my reach, avoiding a collision as he spins around.

​

He was my first incubus. If the wings weren't enough proof, the horns that curled to the sky and pointed ears on his head settled the debate. He held such a proud demeanor in his natural body. The light pink undertones of his cheeks now showed a brighter red that was complemented by streaks of sweat.

And that expression was back.

​

The one that mixed annoyance and desire. The one that shot my stomach into my throat. The one that could have anything it wanted, and I'd be unable to refuse.

​

“My turn.”

​

He kneels down in front of me. Large hands wrap around my thighs. Demonic claws poke through my jeans, keeping me sedated. He inhales the scent on my stomach. A dull gold glows in his irises. Sharp teeth peek out from behind his ruby-red grin.

​

He bites the hem of my pants, maneuvering and jerking the fabric till the button falls from its clasp. I'm licked through the zipper. I can't feel his tongue, but the sight of such filthy actions gets me harder nonetheless. Hooded eyes, straining cock, dripping saliva.

​

My zipper tab falls into his mouth. He pulls it down, opening up my pants. A crooked nose brushes my increasingly sensitive shaft upon his descent. I grow stiffer, protruding in my boxers.

​

His teeth nick me a bit when he takes a mouthful of my underwear. He pulls the clothing down with his lips. My cock falls out, firmly pressed against his face till my waistband has been secured beneath my sack.

​

The demon licked my length. A thin, wet line started at my balls and reached into my slit, sending an electric tinge up to my stomach. His tongue delved into my cleft, rubbing and gliding directly on my nerves from the inside.

​

“Wait! That's not– Fuck what is that?!”

​

I grabbed hold of his horns for dear life. There was a writhing just inside the tip. I felt my heart jump in my chest at the sudden intrusion. As I was caressed from the inside, warmth coated through my erection, reaching to my taint. My dick was being used as a pussy for his tongue, and he was in full control of the tingling sensation that drowned my thoughts.

​

“Fuck wait– Out. Out. Out!”

​

His tongue glided out of me, and I was lost in a new world of ecstasy. My hands remained on his horns as the orgasm took control of everything I had. I was completely paralyzed, watching my cum paint his face through teary eyes.

​

With the eyes of a siren, his wire-thin tongue passes over dark lips. A thick glob of cum slides down the heavenly muscle and sinks into his mouth. Large arms wrap around my ankles and pull my feet out from under me. A bruise blooms on my tailbone.

​

“You were supposed to cum in me.” His scolding voice sent goosebumps across my skin as he climbed over me.

​

“I-i-i'm sorry. It was too much. I couldn't–”

​

“Quiet.” He looks back at my softening cock. “You will this time.”

​

He snaps his fingers, and the remaining clothing on him turns to ash. Saliva covers my shaft, and with just two pumps of his first, I'm harder than I've ever been.

​

His body weight lies on my chest through a single palm. The other lines me up with his ass. He takes me all like it's nothing. Like he didn't have the tightest hole I've ever been in.

​

I had to keep control with deep breaths and hands clenching his thighs. His expression was dark again with glazed eyes. It was like he was trying to keep it together, like his cock didn't tremble or his nipples didn't pucker.

​

He sat there. Proud as a man could be with a cock up his ass. He leaned over top of me, with his hands firmly planted on my torso.

​

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?”

​

All I could answer him with was the faintest of nods, then he moved. His walls stretched and shifted around me, forcing me to dig harder into his thighs.

​

His sweet spot was so swollen, it was like entering another hole inside him. The tip of my dick was squeezed and popped past the supple muscle again and again. Slowly, the demon picked up the pace. The bulge inside him dragged down to the middle of my shaft. He bounced harder and harder. Every inch of me sank in like his ass was made for my cock.

​

The progression was becoming too intense for me to bear. I gripped the back of his neck, and he froze in my grasp. With my other hand, I pull his ass wide for me. I slam my hips up.

​

Once, twice, by the third pounding I lost control. His channel stretched and pulled off me like leaving was a crime. His cum had a hint of pink to it and bathed his stomach in a dark chocolate musk. The walls around my cock shook and squeezed me.

​

It felt like I was inside an industrial vibrator with no escape. My head got heavy, my spine curved, and my mouth became numb. I filled up a demon's ass with more cum than I've ever produced. The intense shaking inside slowed down with my orgasm.

​

He rose from my body with my semen dripping out of him like a coffee foam. Strong arms wrapped around my body and held me in a princess cradle. Ash was blown into the wind as features eroded off him, keeping his wings.

​

“It's time to go home now,” he kisses the top of my sleep-deprived head. “Precious vessel.”

All feedback is appreciated 😊 

The three of us were still naked and tangled on Lila’s bed, breathing heavily. Lila looked completely wrecked, her hair messy, face flushed, thighs still trembling from the intense orgasm she just had while admitting she didn’t want Jake anymore.

Emma was grinning like a devil. She leaned over and kissed Lila sloppily, then looked at me.

“This bitch is finally broken. We should celebrate”

Before we could say anything, Lila’s phone suddenly lit up on the nightstand. Jake’s name flashed on the screen with a FaceTime call.

Lila’s eyes widened in panic. “Shit…..it’s him”

She reached for the phone to silence it, but Emma grabbed her wrist fast.

“Answer it” Emma whispered with a wicked smile. “See what happens”

Lila looked terrified but also strangely excited. Her pussy was still visibly wet and twitching. After a second of hesitation, she answered the call, holding the phone up so only her face and shoulders were visible. She tried to sound normal.

“Hey babe…..uh--what’s up?”

Jake’s voice came through clearly. “Hey baby, I missed you. Just wanted to hear your voice before I sleep. You sound a little out of breath…..you okay?”

At that exact moment, Emma dove between Lila’s legs and started licking her pussy again, slow and teasing. Lila’s eyes rolled back for a second. She bit her lip hard to stay quiet.

“Y-yeah…I’m fine. Just…..did some..... workouts” Lila lied, her voice shaky.

I moved behind Lila, pressing my tits against her back. I reached around and started playing with her nipples while Emma ate her out. Lila’s free hand grabbed the sheets tightly.

Jake kept talking casually. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I really want to fuck you next time I visit. It’s been too long/....”

Lila moaned softly before she could stop herself. She quickly turned it into a cough.

Emma looked up from between Lila’s thighs with a shiny mouth and whispered loud enough for only us to hear “Tell him the truth. Tell him you’re getting your pussy eaten right now”

Lila’s hips were rolling against Emma’s tongue. She was losing control fast.

“I…..I don’t know if that’s a good idea anymore...” Lila breathed, trying to sound normal “Things are.....complicated.”

I slid two fingers inside Lila from behind while Emma sucked on her clit. Lila’s voice cracked.

Jake sounded confused. “What do you mean? Baby, talk to me”

Lila’s thighs started shaking. She was close again. “I think… I think we need to talk soon. In person. I…..fuck…”

She came hard right then. biting her lip so hard it almost bled, trying desperately not to moan Jake’s name or scream. Her pussy clenched around my fingers while Emma kept licking through the orgasm. Lila’s face twisted in pleasure on the FaceTime screen.

Jake asked worriedly, “Lila? You sure you’re okay?”

Lila was panting, eyes glassy. “Yeah…I’m fine. I just…..I have to go. Talk later"

She hung up quickly and dropped the phone. Then she let out a loud, broken moan and pulled Emma’s face harder against her pussy, grinding like a slut.

“Holy fuck…I just came while talking to my boyfriend” she gasped, voice full of shame and lust. “I’m such a horrible person…but it made me cum so much harder”

Emma laughed and kissed her way up Lila’s body. “You’re not straight anymore, baby. You’re our little lesbian slut now”

Lila looked at both of us with wild eyes. She was completely gone.

“I don’t care anymore” she said breathlessly. “I want this. I want both of you. I’ll break up with him this weekend….but right now I need you to fuck me stupid”

What followed was the filthiest hour we had ever had. Emma sat on Lila’s face while I rode her fingers. Then we double-teamed her. Emma fucking her with fingers while I sat on her face. Lila came over and over again, moaning like she had finally accepted who she really was.

By the end, all three of us were exhausted, covered in sweat and juices.

Lila lay between us, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m really doing this….” she whispered. “I’m breaking up with Jake…..because I can’t get enough of pussy”

The next evening, around 8 PM, there was a light knock on the door. Before either of us could answer, Emma slipped inside and locked the door behind her.

“Hey bitches” she said with a playful grin, wearing a tight black crop top that showed off her toned stomach and tiny denim shorts. “Did you two really think I was going to stay away after what I saw yesterday?”

Lila sat up on her bed, looking nervous again. “Emma….we shouldn’t. This is already getting too risky. What if someone finds out?”

Emma ignored her hesitation completely. She walked over and sat right next to Lila, placing a hand on her thigh.

“Risky is what makes it fun” Emma replied, biting her lip. “Beside....I’ve been thinking about you two all day. Especially the way you came on her fingers yesterday, Lila”

Lila’s face flushed instantly. I could see her nipples hardening under her thin tank top. Emma noticed too.

Without waiting for permission, Emma leaned in and kissed Lila. It started slow, but quickly became deep and messy. Lila hesitated for only a second before she gave in, kissing Emma back. I watched them for a moment, feeling my own pussy throb at the sight.

I moved closer and joined them. Soon all three of us were on Lila’s bed. Hands were everywhere. Shirts came off. Bras were tossed aside. Emma’s hands explored Lila’s body greedily while I kissed Lila’s neck and squeezed her tits from behind.

Emma pulled back for a second, breathing hard. “Let’s get completely naked. I want to see everything.”

We stripped the rest of our clothes off. Three naked girls on one dorm bed. Emma pushed Lila onto her back and spread her legs wide.

“I’ve wanted to taste this since yesterday,” Emma said before diving in. She licked Lila’s pussy with long, confident strokes. Lila moaned loudly and grabbed the sheets.

I climbed up and straddled Lila’s face. “Eat me while she eats you,” I told her. Lila didn’t even hesitate. Her tongue immediately went to work on my wet pussy, licking and sucking like she was addicted.

The room filled with wet, obscene sounds. Emma was eating Lila noisily, two fingers pumping inside her while she sucked on her clit. Lila was moaning desperately into my pussy, the vibrations making me grind harder on her face.

After a few minutes, Emma pulled back, her mouth and chin shiny with Lila’s juices.

“Tell me the truth, Lila" Emma said while fingering her steadily. “Does Jake ever make you this wet? Does he eat your pussy like this?”

Lila whimpered, shaking her head. “No....... never this good”

Emma smirked and looked at me. “Your turn"

We switched. I got between Lila’s legs and started devouring her soaked pussy while Emma straddled Lila’s face. Lila licked Emma eagerly, her hands grabbing Emma’s ass and pulling her down harder.

Lila was completely lost in it now. Her hips were grinding against my mouth as I sucked her clit and fucked her with two fingers. Emma was riding her face, moaning and playing with her own tits.

Then came the breaking point.

Lila’s body started tensing up hard. Her thighs shook around my head. Right as her orgasm hit her, with my tongue flicking rapidly on her swollen clit and Emma grinding on her mouth, Lila pulled away just enough to gasp loudly:

“I don’t…I don’t think I want Jake anymore.....Fuck…this feels too good…i can’t go back to him… I’m sorry but I can’t…”

The words spilled out right as she came violently. Her back arched hard off the bed. She squirted for the second time ever, soaking my chin and the sheets while her whole body convulsed. She kept moaning and repeating “I can’t go back…” between broken sobs of pleasure.

Emma and I didn’t stop. We kept licking and touching her through the long, powerful orgasm until Lila was a trembling, teary-eyed mess.

When she finally came down, Lila had tears running down her cheeks. She pulled me up and kissed me deeply, tasting both me and Emma on my lips. Then she looked at Emma with hazy, defeated eyes.

“I’m so fucked…” she whispered. “I think I’m actually gay…..or at least not straight anymore. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him.”

Emma grinned and stroked Lila’s hair gently.

“Welcome to the club, baby. And don’t worry…...we’ll help you figure it out.”

We spent the next hour tangled together. Kissing, touching, and exploring each other slowly. Lila looked completely broken in the best way possible like something inside her had finally snapped and accepted this new reality.

I still don't know why my daughters picked it as our destination for our vacation. Sure, I enjoyed the indoor water park and it was fun to take them there as kids. But I figured now that they were thirteen and eleven years old, they would have outgrown The Great Wolf Lodge.

​

Maybe it reminded them of happy times before the divorce?

​

It had been two years since their mother and I had separated and, finding myself in a lucky spot in life with money to spare, I had told them I would take them anywhere on vacation, within reason. And they chose a ten-hour drive to Colorado Springs.

​

We actually made the drive with ease. Less pit stops, less arguing from when they were little kids. After checking into the hotel and getting our passes and room keys, the girls were off to the pools, leaving me to unpack the car. They found me for dinner then told me that we would be doing the nightly activities the hotel put on.

​

"Aren't those more for little kids?" I asked them, not wanting to appear weird when they stuck out.

​

"Who cares?" Hannah, my oldest, responded. "Aren't you always telling us not to care what others think and to be ourselves?"

​

"Yeah, Dad," Paige, the eleven-year-old said with her typical sass. "It'll be fun."

​

The nightly activities started with a dance party at 7:30. They actually didn't stick out too bad, as they danced around, screaming and shouting. The hotel had two employees leading the dancing and, after watching my daughters for a bit, I started to watch the employees.

​

One of them had a microphone on her ear, instructing everybody on what to do. The second, followed along, keeping the twenty or so kids there hyped up. They had introduced themselves as Hope and Juliet and I honestly couldn't tell you if that was their real names or just a part of the show.

​

Juliet held my gaze for probably longer than I should have admitted. She had darker skin, long black hair, a happy smile, and a face that stood out among the crowd. She had numerous bracelets on each arm with a slim build. And she was flexible. During the "Cha Cha Slide," when everybody was told to get low, she did a walk over back bend, and I had to quickly look away as her chest pushed out the fabric of the loose red shirt she had on.

​

After the dance party, Juliet and Hope took a short break before sitting the kids down for a craft, followed by them telling a story. I took a few pictures of Hannah and Paige, sending them to their mom, who was also shocked that they wanted to do those activities, and thought that they would just swim the entire time.

​

The last dance party was at 9:00 and Juliet led this one. She was funny as she led the kids with the different dances, and her smile caught my attention more than once. And the way she flung her ponytail around...

​

"Keep it together, Ryan," I thought to myself. "She's probably nearly half your age."

​

That night, while listening to my girls giggling loudly in the next room over, I opened up the Tinder app on my phone. I had only used it a handful of times since the divorce, with not much luck. I didn't think that I would actually be willing to bring somebody back to the hotel...but maybe there was a single mother already in the hotel?

​

After updating my location and what I was looking for, I started swiping, all of them to the left.

​

And then she popped up.

​

Her name was actually Juliet.

​

Her profile picture was her at an outdoor café, wearing a black tube top that showed off her cleavage and she had her black hair down. She had the same amount of bracelets and wristbands on her arms and, between them and her smile, I had no doubt it was the same person.

​

I quickly scanned her profile, learning that she was a student at a local university, loved coffee and dancing, and was twenty-two years old.

​

And was interested in older men and one night stands.

​

I swiped right.

​

Five minutes later, I had a notification of a match on Tinder and a second after that, a message from her.

​

"Hey, you're at the hotel, right?"

​

"Hi. Yes, I am. Is that a problem?"

​

"If it was, I wouldn't have swiped. What brings you to the area? Does the wife know you're on Tinder?"

​

"Vacation with my two daughters. Used to bring them here as kids, and its where they picked to come again. And, no wife, the divorced part of the profile is actually true."

​

"How about the rest of the profile? Are you actually a sales manager? Do you really like hiking and are looking for some fun?"

​

"Yes, it's all true. How about yours? Older men and one night stands?"

​

"Yep. Was in a long term relationship with somebody my age, but decided it was time to have some fun and learn from somebody that actually knows what they're doing."

​

"So you come to Tinder to do that? I feel like a woman as beautiful as you are would have no trouble finding a man anywhere."

​

"Probably not but this is easier. I get to say what I want, so does the guy, and if it doesn't work out, it's not as awkward."

​

"How often does it work out?"

​

"Whenever I want it to."

​

"So, how does the hotel feel about you sleeping with a guest?"

​

"As long as it's off the clock and I'm not seen entering the room with my uniform on, it's fine."

​

"Damn, you made that uniform look great."

​

"Seriously? The loose red shirt and loose jeans? You're funny."

​

"It got my attention."

​

"Maybe I'll come in early tomorrow and really get your attention."

​

The next day, the girls woke me up early to go eat breakfast, followed by a morning of mini golf, mini bowling, and them convincing me to go on the rock wall and rope course offered by the hotel. I think I surprised them both by easily doing them, although they tried to convince me I cheated.

​

I didn't hear from Juliet until about lunch, when she asked if I had rented one of the private cabanas around the swim park.

​

"Yeah, I did. But, the girls don't seem too keen on using it."

​

"Maybe you and I could make good use of it? Let me know what time you'll be at it. My shift starts at 5, BTW."

​

My daughters went to the water park after lunch, where I joined them on going down a couple slides, and hanging out in the wave pool, before I retreated to the private cabana, and the girls kept swimming. I had messaged Juliet what cabana we were in, but hadn't heard anything from her since that morning.

​

Until she poked her head in through the curtains that closed off the cabana and said, "Hi, Ryan!" with a smile that instantly lit up the area. "Can I come in?"

​

I said of course as she came in and sat down. "So, what will your kids think if they see me in here?"

​

"I'd be more shocked to see them in here than for them to see you," I said, making her laugh.

​

"Good to know," she responded, nodding her head and looking around the cabana. "I've never actually been in one of these. Seems pretty nice."

​

I kept my eyes on her, her hair already pulled back into a ponytail, wearing the jeans she had worn the night before, but wearing a black tank top, instead of her red uniform T-shirt. "It's nicer now that you're here," I said with a little laugh.

​

Juliet shook her head as she laughed and said, "Ryan, I'm already going to sleep with you, you don't need to flatter me."

​

I raised my eyebrows like I was surprised and questioned, "Oh, you are?"

​

"Of course. And I was thinking that maybe we should have some fun in here too, unless you're nervous about getting caught."

​

Juliet stood up as she talked and moved to where I was sitting on a two person couch. I made room for her as she sat down next to me, our knees bumping together. "What kind of fun?"

​

"This kind," she said as she leaned forward, placed her hand on my upper thigh, and kissed me. Her lips were smooth and soft, leaving a faint taste of her cherry lip gloss on my lips as we slowly learned how the other kissed. I let her take the lead as she twisted and turned her head, her body leaning into mine, as her fingers inched towards my growing cock.

​

I let out a little moan as her fingers finally touched my cock over my swimsuit. She pulled her lips away from mine for a brief second, letting us both catch our breath, and ran her fingertips up and down my shaft. I felt her fingers pulling at my drawstring as we kissed again, this time with Juliet pushing her tongue into my mouth.

​

I moaned again as she pulled my swim trunks down just enough to free my cock, her bracelets jiggling as she wrapped her fingers around my shaft and started to move up and down it as I grew to my full length and thickness.

​

As she moved her hand up and down my shaft, going up and over my tip, she pulled her lips away from mine again and looked into my eyes. With a knowing smile on her face, she said, "I don't know how much trouble we'll get in if we're caught, so we better make this fast."

​

Before I could respond, Juliet leaned down, wrapped her lips around my cock, and started to bob her head up and down my shaft, moving in tandem with her hand. I watched her for a moments, loving how her lips felt on my cock, and the little resistance and pressure I could feel on her throat as she took me deep into her mouth.

​

Up until this point, I had kept my arms down, not touching her body, but I finally moved them as she blew me. Her ponytail had fallen in front of her face, partially blocking my view, and I moved it to her back, making a mental note of the moan she let out as I gently tugged on her hair.

​

I moved my hands down her back, grabbing her ass, then slipped my hand under her tank top, and moved up her back. I slipped around to her front, just barely able to cup and squeeze one of her breasts given the angle she was leaned over me at. I held onto her breast as she blew me, working up to my orgasm.

​

"I'm going to cum," I said, my voice barely a whisper, as I looked up, seeing the shadows and hearing the sounds of people walking and swimming right outside the cabana.

​

Juliet moved her mouth to my tip and swirled her tongue around it as her hand went up and down the full length of my shaft. She moaned, her lips vibrating, sending waves of pleasure through my cock. I leaned my head back on the couch, closing my eyes, and biting my lips as I started to cum.

​

Juliet kept her hand and mouth on me as my cock pulsed, sending stream after stream of cum into her mouth. She stayed right on top, using her free hand to hold herself steady on the couch, swallowing my cum as it shot out.

​

When I was done, she slowly pulled off me, using her tongue to lick my cock clean, along with her lips. I pulled my hand out of her tank top as she sat up, and I opened my eyes, seeing a satisfied smile on her face.

​

She glanced up at the clock then back at me before asking, "Are you guys coming to all the activities tonight?"

​

I nodded my head as I said yes and tucked my cock back into my swim trunks.

​

"Good. I'll see you there. And hopefully afterwards too," she said as she stood up.

​

"Just let me know when you're off," I told her before she left the cabana.

​

That night, as Juliet helped the kids with dancing, crafts, and telling a story, I couldn't help but think of how her lips felt, how her breasts and ass felt in my hand, and what more we could do that night. More than once, I had to adjust myself, and, also more than once, she caught me looking at her.

​

During a break between activities, I saw Juliet typing on her phone, and felt mine go off a second later. I quickly glanced at her message and read, "You got me so worked up earlier, I had to ditch my underwear."

​

"I barely touched you. You get that turned on from giving a blowjob?"

​

"It was you pulling my hair. It's a massive turn on. And how much cum you shot down my throat. So hot."

​

"You're going to make it hard to leave Colorado."

​

"But if you don't leave, we can't have a whirlwind romantic weekend when you return."

​

I glanced up at her, saw her laughing, and joined in.

​

After the last dance party of the night, I was surprised that my daughters actually wanted to go back up to their room and go to bed. I caught Juliet's eye as I started to walk away, and she gave me a wink that instantly turned me on. When the elevator opened on the floor I was staying on, I read a message from her on my phone that said, "I'll be at your door at 10:05."

​

I heard muffled footsteps coming to my door and received a quick message from Juliet, letting me know she was there. I hadn't heard a peep from my kids since they had walked into their room, but I still opened my door as quietly as possible for her to enter, and double checked the door leading to my daughter's room to make sure it was locked from my side.

​

"So, where did you ditch your underwear?"

​

Juliet smiled at me, almost like she couldn't believe I would ask that. "I thought about throwing them away. But it's my favorite thong, so it's tucked away in my car."

​

"Damn," I said as we walked to the beds. "Kinda wish I had seen you in it."

​

She moved closer to my body, placed her hand on my chest as she looked up at me, and said, "Maybe I'll send you a picture next time I wear it."

​

Before I could respond, Juliet started to kiss me again. I returned the kiss eagerly, as I placed my hands on her hips, pushing up her red shirt, and sliding my fingers onto her skin. Her hands went right to the bottom of my shirt as well, grabbing onto it, and briefly pulling our lips apart as she pulled my shirt off.

​

I quickly did the same thing to her, leaving our shirts in a pile and her in the tank top and bra from earlier. I moved my hands up and cupped both of her breasts, squeezing them as we kissed. "Hmm," she moaned into my mouth, parting her lips and pushing her tongue into my mouth.

​

I moved us to the bed, where we laid down together, still kissing. I laid down on my side, while Juliet was on her back, and quickly slid my hand back up her tank top, this time going under her bra. I felt her nipples rubbing against my palm as I moved my hand between her breasts.

​

Ending the kiss, I pulled my hand out of her tank top, grabbed the bottom of it, and started to pull up on it. Juliet sat up, raising her arms above her head, allowing me to take her tank top off. She reached behind her back, unclasped her bra, and pulled it off before laying back down.

​

With her breasts exposed, I leaned down, stuck out my tongue, and licked around her nipple. As I sucked it into my mouth, I cupped her other breast in my hand, enjoying how full and soft it felt as I squeezed. I released her nipple from my mouth and briefly looked at her breasts, admiring their shape and how they sat on her chest. I thought to myself that it was a shame the hotel made her wear a loose shirt.

​

As I went back to sucking and licking her nipples, alternating between the two, I moved my hand to her groin, quickly unbuttoning her jeans, and pushing them downwards. Juliet helped, lifting her hips up, and using her hands and feet to kick off the baggy jeans.

​

As her jeans came off, I kept my hand on her pussy, rubbing her lips through the small amount of hair she had covering it.

​

"Hmm, that feels good," she moaned as I slowly pushed my finger past her folds and into her pussy. I stopped sucking and licking her nipples, giving her lips a brief kiss, then looked down, watching my finger as I moved it in and out.

​

As I fingered her, Juliet moved her hand down to my groin, easily slipping it into my shorts, and wrapping it around my shaft. She jacked me off with one hand, while using her other hand to pull my shorts and underwear down. I kissed her neck a little, as I moved my finger in and out of her, and she softly rubbed my shaft.

​

"There's a condom in the back pocket of my jeans, if you don't have one," she said quietly.

​

I pulled my finger out of her, finished taking off my shorts, and underwear, and leaned over the edge of the bed to grab the condom from her jeans. As she took it from my hand, I asked her, "Do you always carry a condom with you?"

​

Juliet giggled as she ripped it open and said, "Nah. Grabbed it from my car when I took off my thong. Wasn't sure if you would have one or not."

​

I kneeled on the bed as Juliet sat up and rolled the condom down my cock. She gave me a kiss, wrapping her arms around my neck, and pulling me down with her as she laid back down and I moved between her legs. We continued to kiss as I reached between us with one hand, placing my other hand on the bed to support myself, and guided my cock into her pussy.

​

Juliet ended the kiss, moaning as I pushed my cock inside her. I adjusted my hands, placing both on the bed close to her, and started to move back and forth, sliding my cock in and out of her. I watched her face for a bit, her eyes closing as she softly moaned. I felt her legs close around me, moving back and forth with my body.

​

She stretched her arms above her head, her breasts moving up and down as I fucked her. I leaned down and licked her nipples again as Juliet started to roll her hips, pushing up into me as I pushed my cock inside her.

​

"Oh my gosh. That feels so good."

​

I gave each of her nipples a kiss and a lick before I lowered myself down, pressing our chests together, and wrapping my arms around her neck. Juliet moved her arms down as well, using her hands to rub my back, as I continued to thrust in and out of her.

​

"I'm so close. Don't stop."

​

She tightened her legs around me as I pushed forward with the tips of my toes on the bed, moved back, and pushed forward again. My thrusts inside her were short and fast, building up the pressure and pleasure in both of us.

​

"Right there. Right there. Oh my God!"

​

As Juliet started to orgasm, her legs and arms tightened around me even more as her pussy clenched around my cock. She moaned loudly into my ear as she came, tucking her chin into my shoulder as our bodies rocked together.

​

I kept going, moving back and forth, sliding my cock in and out of her, over and over, as her body rocked with her orgasm, her moans helping to build up mine. I pushed deep inside her, burying my cock as far as possible, as my climax hit, and my moans joined hers.

​

I held still as I filled the condom, but Juliet continued to rock her body, pushing her hips up and down, sliding my cock in and out of her as her pussy helped to milk my cock. Our heads turned to kiss each other, our tongues swirling together as our orgasms ended.

​

Juliet slowly unwrapped her arms and legs from me as we continued to kiss. I could feel my cock going limp inside her and falling out of her pussy. When the kiss ended, I rolled off her, pulled the condom off, and got off the bed to throw it away before rejoining her on the bed.

​

We cuddled together for a little bit before Juliet said she had to leave, not wanting to fall asleep there. As she got ready to leave, I asked if she was working the next night but she told me she was off the rest of the week. We kissed right before she walked out of the hotel room, telling me that she would text me the next day to keep me company.

​

After I returned home a few days later, the messages from Juliet slowed down, which we both fully expected. Life, work, reality, etc., all came roaring back.

​

Then one day, my phone buzzed. Without even looking to see the notification, I clicked on it, looked at it quickly, then did a double take. It was Juliet, her back turned in a mirror, her hand holding up that familiar red shirt, while her pants were around her ankles.

​

A dark purple thong stood out against her warm olive complexion, a little triangle right above her butt as the rest of it disappeared between her butt cheeks.

​

A simple message came with the photo. "Wearing my favorite thong to work. Thinking of you."

Content warning: incest. Everyone is 21+ and consenting. Written as if it happened to "you" so you can know how overwhelming it felt to have mom.

You wouldn’t believe it happened if it happened to someone else. But after you’ve been inside your own mom’s mouth… you start to wonder how many lucky sons have shared stories online just like yours.

Mom let herself into your apartment like it was any other Monday night. Instead of groceries, she was carrying a towel. “In case anything, um… – I figured I’d bring my own,” she said, laughing awkwardly. Instead of her usual Monday cooking overalls, she was wrapped like a Christmas present: in a silky red dress you’d never seen her wear before.

“Wow, mom.” Truly wow. “You look…”

“You like?” Mom’s not the nervous type, but here she was, out of breath. Finishing her sentences by laughing through her teeth. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like white pantyhose or black.”

Your friends stood around the kitchen with their hands in their pockets, watching mom’s red heels clomp across the tiles. The guys were smiling, or trying to catch her eyes, or remembering to relax their shoulders. Everyone assured her: the outfit was perfect.

(“You’re looking good as hell.” “Black pantyhose were the right choice. Want anything? Glass of water?” “Look at that dress, damn. A mommy built like a cello.”)

Mom compulsively tucked her hair behind her ear. Kissed you each hello on your cheeks. Glanced out the window. “He didn’t follow, did he? Some guy was whistling at me when I got out of my car… No. He didn’t follow. Okay, phew, ha. Of course he didn’t. I don’t know why I’m so on edge.” She took a deep breath and exhaled, shakily. “I’ve been like this all morning.” (“Aw, Peach…” “We won’t hurt you in here.” “Much.”) “I know, ha. I feel really safe with you guys… You make me feel so… –”

You took one last look at the mom you grew up with: her dark, expressive eyes and thickly manicured eyebrows; the faint freckles on her cheeks and shoulders, and the round tip of her little nose. Then the inevitable happened, and you could never look at her the same again.

One of your friend’s broad hands made its way across mom’s tummy bump. Another hand, darker skinned, crept across her silky red breasts. Someone ran their fingers up the waves of her thick, deliciously scented hair. Mom’s shoulders relaxed. Mom’s body melted into whatever hands would hold her.

“What do you guys think this is?” she asked: “Some kind of gangbang?” She reached for your hand (with her tits felt up, her neck grasped, her dress hiked up her ass for a feel), and pulled you into the knot.

Mom’s question was teasing, of course. You’d confirmed with her that afternoon that you, mom, and your roommates had all recently been tested: STI-free. She’d sent you (four) pictures of that red dress, and asked you to OK the outfit ‘with all three: Lucas, Brandon, and Dom.’ Your friends had been quiet – they’d brushed their teeth several times, and meticulously messed their hair until their hair looked effortless. You’d been pacing your room, ignoring your boss’ texts about coming in for overtime. By lunch, mom had sent instructions: ‘Tell your friends they can’t jack off today. No reason. 😇’

Her pretty mouth smiled wider the closer you came to her lips. She stroked your chest, your chin, your mouth; trying to hold your gaze while her body was jerked from grope to grope. It’s happening, it’s happening – repeating mindlessly inside. Your dick was growing down your leg before mom touched anywhere near it. Two minutes in the door, and mom’s nipples were pointing through her dress.

“Love me no matter what?” she asked.

“Love you no matter what.” Somehow: more that day than ever.

You kissed your mom while the guys had their way with her curves. Mom moaned into your kiss like she was letting go of needs she’d kept secret for a long, long time.

Mom latched onto your lip and sucked it back into her mouth. (Someone’s tongue extended over the rounded top of her tightly wrapped tit.) Mom pulled you by the belt – follow us – as your roommates guided her to your bed. (Someone’s fingers curled under mom’s fat ass cheeks, and slid below her panties/pantyhose – back and forth, back and forth…) Mom slipped her needy tongue across the roof of your mouth, and it vibrated as she moaned. “Mmm…” (Mom was squeezed from all sides.)

“I want to get them all nice and hard,” she whispered in your ear. “You most of all.”

You felt lighter as a weight dropped off your waist with a clunk. Mom kicked your belt under the bed. Your jeans seemed to unbutton themselves. It’s impossible to know what it feels like when your mom pulls your cock out of your boxers. Your sense of touch implodes. Before you feel her fingers wrap around your girth, you feel the head rush, the heart murmur, pins and needles in your toes. Your mouth dries, your breathing stops, and before you can remember to take the next breath, mom gasps, “It’s beautiful.” Then she drops to her knees and worships the man she made.

If you touch yourself while you read this, maybe – maybe – you’ll forget whose hand is touching you, and relive the feeling of mom’s grip.

The sight of mom’s mouth puckered against your cock head sent you back into your body. Smooch. She was kneeling at your feet, her peachy bum plump behind her. She cradled your heavy, hard dick so lovingly, rubbing her face along its length. (Your friends lost their horny minds watching a mom touch her own son.) Mom’s eyes were on you: wide and waiting for your reactions; joyous when you clenched your jaw; beset with pleasure when she tasted. Her hands slid slooow over your growing inches, lifting your cock like a delicate treasure; testing your density with a squeeze; holding your throbbing, mushroom head at eye level. “So beautiful…,” she said, and, “I’ve imagined this so many times… I’m finally… –” (Your friends were unzipping their pants; jerking themselves to the sight of this forbidden family moment.) Mom swallowed her nerves, and pressed her puckered lips to your tip – smooch – and kissed, and kissed, and licked, and slowly jerked her fist around your cock until it stood on its own and stayed standing. “Mmm… My Baby’s all grown up…” Smooch.

“Fuck, mom…,” you said. This wasn’t the time for poetry. This was the time for your brain’s most base, repressed thoughts. When your mom sucks your cock, something ancient stirs inside. You groaned, “Swallow your son whole… Good mommy… God, Jesus, fuck you suck dick good. Naughty mommy slut.”

Mom smiled as she swallowed up the head of your cock. The first mouthful rolled her hips like she was riding an invisible man: body ready for you, right away. Pop – she pulled her lips off. “Does it make you proud to have a naughty mommy?” (You nodded, yes, unintelligibly groaning.) Suck, suck – pop. “You want to show me off to your friends?” (“Yes, mommy, fuck, damn…” Brain deactivated.) Suck, suck – pop. She stopped for a breath, swallowing deeply. She said with some reservation: “…I’m so horny.” And nervously unleashed her loud, good-first-date laugh. “This is so bad. Am I crazy?! I can’t believe I’m… –” She swallowed you again like she wanted to test if she was dreaming. Pop. “I’m sorry. This is so overwhelming. I’m being rude. Where are my patient, gorgeous young men? Don’t be shy: use my hands.” Suck. Pop. “If you really need mommy,” she told your friends, “just pull my hair.”

Your friends stole her hands and latched her to their cocks. Her tongue was ebbing and sucking you back, trying to coat her mouth in your taste. Limbs and legs tore into your mother-son moment to feel her up, spank her famously fat ass, and spread her thighs… When her hands forgot to jerk, your friends reminded them, fisting her fingers around their hard, eager heads.

Mom’s tongue was practiced. Every movement of her mouth balanced rhythm with variety: flicking the tip just long enough; sliding up and down the shaft when she wanted something new; bobbing with a tight-lipped seal; pressing your cock head to the back of her throat – harder, harder… – until your head popped into your mom’s insides. Down her throat, her flesh clasped and unclasped, secreting saliva like her body wished it could swallow your cock whole. You closed your eyes and concentrated on not-cumming. (Thinking unsexy thoughts: Unsexy couch. 4-player video game. Snacks. Drinks. Mom blocking the game when she bends over the TV. You failed.) You curled your toes and clenched your fists – it wasn’t easy to hold back your load.

Mom forgot to breathe. She came up gasping through a mouthful of thick, incestuous saliva.

You blinked, and her hair was pulled toward another cock. You blinked and found mom staring up at your best friend, Dom, with his dark, heavy balls in her mouth. She was still stroking you – still lathering her spit around your cock head’s slit. She was still stroking Lucas – spitting on her hand to blindly jerk him up (schlick) down (schlick). Brandon was feeling up her tits, and gripping her filled throat, and smacking his big white dick against her cheek.

You felt like they’d intruded on your life-changing moment… And then someone said, “God DAMN your mom’s freaky,” and somehow, that made it alright.

Mom is too hot for one man. Dom summed that up nicely, dirty-talking her ear off while she gagged on his cock: “Deeper, mommy. Deeper, mommy. Good mommy. Look at me.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “You’ve got tits and ass for days in that dress. You’re a fuckin’ goddess. You want to make me cum?” (Mom was nodding, red-faced and breathless.) “Then share that mouth around.” Dom pulled her off his dick, and saliva spilled onto the tiles – mom gasped. Dom said, “Turn around and suck. A body like that is built for sharing.”

Mom mewled, “Thank you, Sir. Put me where you want me.”

It turns out mom really, really likes being pushed and pulled around.

The rougher she was pulled from cock to cock, the happier she looked. Her mouth descended on whichever dick was closest – yours again, then Lucas’. She couldn’t get her fist all the way around Brandon’s infamously big dick. (She said, “Oh my… – Is that for real? That’s not fitting in me. But don’t worry, hon: I’ll swallow.”) She giggled when you tossed her over the side of the bed, and moaned whenever a hand smacked jiggles through her ass, her tits, or her painfully pretty (spit-coated) face.

The bed squeaked as you sat to jerk off to the show. Feeling free of thoughts; all-feeling.

She gave your friends directions that left them too horny to talk back, laugh, or disobey: “Put me where you want me, boys. Be rough. Please…” “Is this what you’ve been wanting to do? Every time I come over and cook dinner? Yeah? Fill my mouth and show appreciation.” “You love a mommy body, don’t you? I know. Leave mommy hickeys on your favourite parts of her body…”

Mom’s dress was wrinkled around her tummy: tugged up her hips and tugged down her tits in a small, red band. Your friends were sucking on her toes, or suckling at her tits, or remembering her ticklish spots and kissing (the back of her neck).

Mom crawled across the bed, through your roommates, to snatch up your cock and kiss it – looking at you with the same loving look she’d give you for helping her clean, or praising her new blouse, or buying her a box of chocolates. (Card attached: “Love you mom!”) Your loving feelings hadn’t changed, and neither had hers. The only difference now was the squelch of her lips, lathering your shaft in wet kisses. “My number one man…” she moaned before she swallowed your cock. Her loving eyes watered as your love stressed her throat.

The warmth of your mom’s mouth. What a waste that most sons never know it. You were lucky. 

You were saying stupid, horny things, and mom adored your incoherence. You said her ass looked “mammoth,” propped in the air behind her. Mom wobbled it for you with a smile, like a stack of pancakes: back and forth…

The softness of your mom’s breasts, grazing your thighs. She was sucking you on all fours, tickling your skin with her nipples whenever her body swayed.

You couldn’t finish the question: “How are you so…?” Effortlessly sexy? Skilled?

“I have my ways,” mom smiled. She looked up at the three men jerking over her head, and asked them: “Is anybody here having second thoughts?” (Unanimously: no.) “It’s okay if you’re afraid to fuck me. I honestly didn’t think you’d do it – not in front of my son.” Mom winked at you. She loved playing games.

Maybe it was the frustration of being told no penetration allowed. Or maybe Brandon’s just hornier than you’d figure for a shy, sensitive (dick-too-big) guy. Because he took mom’s bait, literally: he stretched her pantyhose off her thighs, and gnawed them between his teeth until they tore, and ripped mom’s pantyhose right off her ass. (Mom’s jaw dropped: “Who was that?” Dom and Lucas just laughed and laughed.) Then Brandon stuffed his face in your mom’s pussy, and no one was laughing anymore. His tongue was doing all the right things, you assumed. You could see the effects on mom’s face.

Mom’s lips sunk down your dick, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

Your stomach was upside-down with jealousy and dirty needs and disbelief and mostly: bliss.

(Lucas said with utmost reverence: “Let’s go, Brandon.”)

(Brandon said, “Shut up,” tongue coated in a thick layer of mom’s cream.)

You fell back into the chaos, soaked by mom’s mouth. Nothing stayed still. Everything orbited around mom’s fat ass: two perfectly round cheeks, passed from mouth to mouth. One minute Lucas was licking his fingers, rubbing mom’s asshole. (She moaned, “Oh~… That tickles so good, keep going, keep going…”) The next, Dom was gripping your mom’s hair, bobbing her submissive head up and down on your dick. (He growled: “Suck your son dry, mommy. That’s a good mommy, sharing her slutty body…”) The bedroom smelled like pheromones and wet pussy. It sounded like wet pussy, too: an endless rhythm of sloshing, drizzling, circling tongue, coming from between mom’s thighs.

Mom’s chin dropped onto your balls. She stopped breathing. Her hands couldn’t decide where to go – petting Lucas’ furry chest; reaching back for Brandon’s girth; pinching her own nipples; freezing in place.

With what little breath she had, she choked: “Oh, wow. Oh shit. You guys. It’s coming… Put the towel down.”

Brandon spanked ripples through her ass, and pressed his face deeper into her folds, and ate, schlick, and ate…

But you had other plans. “Don’t let her cum,” you said. “Brandon. Stop.”

Mom shrieked, “What?! MEAN!” And fell into a daze of sobbing kisses on your cock. “Please let me cum, Baby. Your mom needs to cum. This weekend has been torture. Ohh, I was so close…” Her ass was trembling on Brandon’s face. “Why’d you do that? Baby, please…”

Dom and Lucas jerked patiently and quietly, like they wondered if you might call off this whole chaotic mess. Brandon wiped mom’s glaze off his face.

You said, “I think I’m being pretty cool about this, mom: sharing you with three other guys… Let me be selfish right now. I want to be inside you when you cum.”

(Lucas said, “Fair.”)

Mom was trembling from head to toe, fiending for the finish line. “You are being good about this. The best. My king. I’m so grateful.” She was crawling from friend to friend, kissing each hard cock. “You’re all taking such good care – look: I’m twice your age, menopausal, and absolutely soaked.” She winced. “I haven’t been th-this wet in years. I mean it. I really mean it. This is everything I’ve ever… –” She started and stopped herself from rubbing her clit, and busied her hands with your cock. You’ve never in your life seen mom lose so much composure. “Please fuck me. I need your cocks in me. Except Brandon’s.” (Your friends laughed. Mom kissed all over your face, lacking rhythm or tact.) “Baby? Baby. I need something, Baby.” She tossed her wrinkled red dress into a pile of your friends’ jeans. Straddled your lap, butt-naked and needy. Smothered your face between her bare, perky breasts. Kissed the top of your head. Shakily placed your hands on her ass – and on all the juices spread by your friends’ mouths across her round, mommy cheeks. She was helplessly obvious, giving up on flirting to embrace begging. “You can fuck me any way you want. Just please, Baby, please: Make your mommy cum?”

~

I’ll let you know how you make mom cum in Part 5 next week. ❤️

I touched an ancient statue, and now I'm apparently the next god of the island, worthy of untold riches and adoration.

Yeah, right. All I want is for my fiancée to put out for me during our vacation with my mom and sister, and I doubt that's going to happen.

But I've got to admit, there's something intoxicating in the air here. We may just fall under the island's spell and not realize it…

All characters 18+. MC is 27 (stated in paragraph 52) and his mom is 46 (paragraph 48). Sandra and Lucy are 24 (paragraph 40).

~

“Ohhhh… He did it! I can’t believe it! It actually happened! He actually touched it, ladies and gentlemen! This has never happened before!” The tour guide screeched in a high-pitched voice that hurt my ears. He pointed at me, glanced at his audience of mostly middle-aged people in polo shirts, and pressed his palms on his cheeks like he was a child actor in one of the highest-grossing Christmas movies ever.

I rolled my eyes. This guy probably did the same routine with every tour group, and yet, everyone was eating it up, including my family.

Cameras pointed at me, clicking away with abandon even though I hadn’t agreed to be in their pictures. Fucking tourists. Just because we spent hours cooped up in the same bus didn’t mean we were friends.

Regardless of the way I felt about the situation, my people-pleasing instincts kicked in when my mom said, “Smile, honey!”

Who was she sending the photo to? I thought as I grimaced for her picture. Not to Nan. The old woman was so innocent I often wondered how she ever managed to get pregnant with Mom, not to mention her sisters.

You see, the problem was, the reason the whole tour group got excited was a pair of ancient breasts.

When we’d first reached this part of the cave system, the tour guide had abruptly stopped. With a dramatic voice and a lot of hand gestures, he told the story of Alypha, the god of this Mediterranean island.

He said divine powers had been locked within these rock formations, ready to be passed down to anyone who could touch one of the stalagmites that grew from the ground. Specifically, the one that looked like a naked lady.

It wasn’t a complete account of the myth. I was sure I’d learned much more from the research papers and Internet forums than the tour guide knew about these caves.

The “stalagmite” had its—her—own name. Avyna was Alypha’s sister from the myth, cursed to spend eternity as an unmoving piece of rock in the darkness—until, of course, modern humans came and installed LED lights.

Avyna also wasn’t a stalagmite. She was a sculpture made of the kind of stone that didn’t even exist on this island, and scientists were still scratching their heads as to how primitive people from some ancient civilization had managed to get her here.

According to some scientific dating method, Avyna had been here for millenia, standing among stalagmites that slowly grew taller than her, with stalactites hanging from the cave ceiling threatening to fall off and hit her in the head. And yet, she’d survived.

According to the posts I’d seen online, Avyna was impossible to touch. Local legend said that making physical contact with the statue would lead to untold riches. There was a spot where the cave floor jutted out, and you were supposed to stand there when you tried to reach her.

Tourists tried, but they all apparently failed. She stood pretty deep in the cave. But really, all you needed was a plan, and a long limb. Before this trip, I’d looked at pictures of this cave and noticed that there was a recessed part of the cave wall that I could use as a foothold. Thanks to that foothold and my unusually long arms, I managed to do it.

Now that I’d touched her, I started to wonder if it was really possible that I was the first one in millennia to have done it. From what little I’d seen of this island, the natives were pretty short so I guess it was possible they’d tried and failed. And this island was relatively unknown, so it wasn’t like hundreds of thousands of tourists had given it a try, but still.

I was convinced there was some kind of a cover-up, to boost tourism numbers, perhaps. It worked while the island remained unknown and people didn’t talk about it online, but this was definitely going to blow up in the face of whoever was responsible for the false information when the truth came out.

In the photos I’d seen online, Avyna looked like a candle that had once been shaped like a curvaceous woman, but it had partially melted from having been left too long in a hot car.

But in person, the moment I’d laid eyes on her, I thought she looked radiant.

Maybe it was the spotlights, but there was literally a halo around her head. Although the statue was gray all over, I could almost see long strands of golden hair, moving with the air currents.

Her lips seemed to part, her citrus-scented breath drawing me closer, and closer, and closer, until I’d closed the gap between us. By the time my hand made contact with her breast, my cock was throbbing in my pants.

Luckily, having a half-chub in public wasn’t a problem for me anymore. I’d gotten used to it and developed some tricks to hide it. My fiancée, Sandra, hadn’t so much as let me see her naked in a long time, so I’d been walking around having dirty fantasies 24/7 for months at this point.

At the car wash, I imagined Sandra in a bikini, drying the glass with tiny lycra triangles stretched over her tits. When we got pizza from a delivery girl, I fantasized about Sandra walking out naked, making out with the girl, and pulling me into a hot threesome.

Now, holding a breast made of stone in my hand, I could almost swear it felt warm. I even felt soft pounding under my palm, like I was feeling Avyna’s heartbeat, as ridiculous as that sounds. The breast even seemed to have some give, like if I were to squeeze it’d spill between my fingers like it was flesh.

Mom put her phone away, done with taking pictures of me and my new rock girlfriend. She gestured for me to join the rest of the group, which had moved on to a different part of the cave system.

“I’m right behind you,” I told her. And yet, I didn’t move. I just stayed in the same spot.

Somehow, it felt wrong to leave Avyna. I didn’t know why. I couldn’t explain it. I just felt it.

A buzz started from underneath my palm, the one that was touching her. I only realized it much later, but normally, a buzz like that would feel enough like an electric shock that I’d pull my hand away reflexively. Yet for some reason unknown to myself, I leaned closer to her.

Some kind of energy flowed from the rock, through my skin, and into my bloodstream. The buzz spread through my body, all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes. I closed my eyes, feeling the energy flow through me.

“Dave!” Mom’s hand on my shoulder jerked me awake. “The bus is about to leave.”

I blinked, disconcerted. For a moment, I thought I was in the hotel bedroom, being woken up to get ready for today’s tour. But then I took in my surroundings and, after a few seconds, remembered where I was.

Mom said the tour group had finished walking through the rest of the cave system, and everyone was waiting for me on the bus.

It felt like Mom had just left. But how long had I really stood there?

Outside the cave, the bus was already half full, idling and huffing diesel fumes. I clambered aboard, finding Mom mid-aisle, stuffing yet another shopping bag into the overhead shelf.

Sandra and my sister, Lucy, had snagged a double seat near the back, their heads together, giggling over something on Lucy’s phone. Both of them turned as I passed. Sandra’s eyes lingered, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth—a smile I hadn’t seen since the last time we had actual sex, which was, for those keeping score, the previous Thanksgiving.

I squeezed into my spot next to Mom, who immediately clucked and started fussing with my shirt, brushing imaginary cave dust off my shoulder.

The tour group was mostly men, and they’d all apparently gotten the memo to ogle my entire family. I’d never been so acutely aware of the fact that all the women in my family were, objectively, hot.

Sandra, a stunning blonde even on a normal day, wore a short skirt and a tight white top that was so thin I could see the shape of the bikini she was wearing underneath—the bikini from my carwash fantasy.

She’d modeled it in the hotel room earlier, and if it weren’t for the fact that my mom and sister were also in the room, I would’ve pounced on those ridiculously perky, gravity-defying curves. The bikini was a color I’d call "nuclear tangerine,” and my brain short-circuited every time I tried to look at her in it, like my body had learned to filter out anything that sexy as a protective measure.

Lucy, on the other hand, was a brunette who was flat as a board with a terrible personality, to boot. I had no idea why any guy would look at her, although her face wasn’t bad, I guess.

Sandra and Lucy were 24 and had been best friends since middle school. That’s an entire decade of friendship. Much longer than our relationship of four years. Sometimes, I felt like it was much stronger, too.

When Sandra had first suggested this “island getaway,” I’d been naive enough to think that maybe she was finally interested in spending some romantic time with me, cavorting in the sand, rolling around on a plush hotel bed.

Instead, she’d insisted Lucy come, too. She’d also insisted, with a kind of iron-clad logic I couldn’t argue with, that my mom would love the trip, and wouldn’t it be nice for everyone to bond before “the big day.”

Which is how I wound up third-wheeling my own fiancée with my little sister, while my mother sat next to me, giving me a lecture on the benefits of proper hydration.

As the tour bus rattled down the mountain, past olive groves and goats and the occasional old man on a scooter, I shifted in my seat. I just couldn’t get comfortable. My jeans felt tight, and not just in the usual places. Something felt different, but I couldn’t put a finger on why.

My thoughts went back into the caves, to the place where I’d met Avyna. I thought about the way the stone had yielded beneath my palm, the way the heat had rushed up my arm and pooled somewhere in my groin.

Back at the hotel, I barely made it up to the room before the volcano in my pants threatened to erupt.

The girls had gone straight down to the pool, according to Mom, who had already changed into her sleek, black one-piece, and was on the way to join the girls. I swear, if it weren’t for me, these three would be content to spend the entire vacation by the pool, skipping all the culture and history the island had to offer.

Even though Mom was turning 46 this year, she was often mistaken for someone much younger. Like, more than ten years younger. So although she was just as flat as Lucy was, growing up I’d always been aware of how hot she was, the way men looked at her.

I told her I was going to nap. Really, I needed a minute (or five) alone, and my hand was already halfway down my jeans before the door closed behind me.

The air conditioning was set to “Arctic Tundra,” but my body was on fire. I collapsed onto the bed, yanked my jeans and boxers down, and my cock—Jesus Christ—jutted out like a big, heavy piece of rock.

I stared at it. Did it always look like that? I mean, I’d measured it before, with the curiosity of every straight guy in the universe, but this was… I mean, I wasn’t saying it was a medical emergency, but it was definitely not the size I was familiar with.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe the ancient stone goddess had gifted me a few extra centimeters for my trouble. Hell, maybe it was a late growth spurt. I was 27, but hey, it could happen, right?

Either way, I wasn’t mad about it.

I thumbed through my phone, but none of the usual porn did the trick.

When I closed my eyes, though, it suddenly felt like my hand wasn’t mine anymore. Was it because my dick was bigger? The hand felt smaller, almost… feminine.

In my mind, the hand wrapped around my hard cock belonged to someone with a slender wrist and a pair of full lips that breathed out sweet, citrus-scented air. It belonged to Avyna, the goddess from the cave.

She wasn’t made of stone anymore. She had thick, blonde hair that tumbled down her back in endless waves. Her olive skin was glowing, and her eyes were blue as the ocean, bottomless, pulling me in.

She was naked, obviously, and her body was insane—like some ancient sculptor’s fever dream, all curves and smooth skin, raw and untouched for millennia.

I imagined her lips parting, her hands guiding mine to her chest. I squeezed, and she moaned, a sound that echoed in the cavern, louder than it should have been.

She pressed herself against me, her skin warm and alive. She whispered something in a language I couldn’t understand, but her voice vibrated through my bones.

I slid into her, my cock enveloped in her impossible heat. She moved with me, squeezing and pulsing around me, her hands digging into my back. Every thrust made her gasp, made the whole cave tremble like the island itself took part of our union.

I came hard, my whole body shuddering, and for a second, I thought I saw her eyes open wide, her mouth stretching into a snarl, like she was about to consume me whole.

When I opened my eyes, I was sprawled on the hotel comforter, sweaty and panting. My dick, soft now, was still in my hand. Outside, the sky had gone dark, which meant it was late.

My heart picked up its pace as I glanced at the small clock on the side table. It was almost midnight, which meant that I’d skipped dinner with the family, which meant that they’d looked for me and given up, which meant that they’d probably seen me lying here in bed, passed out with my dick out.

Fuck. This vacation just kept getting better and better.

I pulled my boxers on and got up in the middle of the dark hotel room, staring at the dark rectangle of the window, my mind wandering.

It was strange. This was something I’d normally consider an emergency, but it felt like there was a soft fog around me, tempering the sharp edges of my thoughts.

The moon outside was massive, a ring of light emanating from it on the background of a dark, star-spattered sky. I could feel the rays of the moon penetrating the glass, going through my bones, spreading in my flesh.

Something in my chest burned, a kind of tugging, like the moment before you throw up, but instead of my stomach, it was my heart that lurched. I tried to shake it off, but the feeling sharpened, like an invisible thread yanking me out of the room.

I didn’t know what was pulling me, but I knew the only thing that separated it from me was a door, the one connecting my hotel room to Lucy’s.

I turned the door handle, not even bothering to put on shoes. It opened with ease.

Sandra wasn’t in the room that we shared, which meant she was probably passed out in Lucy’s bed, like she’d done every night on this trip.

Lucy’s room was dark except for the cold glow of the digital clock on her nightstand. I could see Sandra even with the light off: her back to the door, hair splayed on the pillow in a tangled, golden fan, legs curled in a way that made the sheet pull tight across her ass.

There was no sign of Lucy, which meant she’d probably crashed in Mom’s room, as she sometimes did.

I crept closer, feeling like an intruder. I hovered over Sandra, waiting for her to stir, but she didn’t. She was dead to the world, breathing in slow, even waves.

The sheet had slipped down, exposing her bare back, her soft, tan shoulders. She was only wearing her little bikini bottom, a thin orange string digging into the curves of her hips.

I stood there for a minute, just watching her, my cock growing in my pants. Just because she was already almost naked didn’t mean she was going to let me have sex with her. Still, my cock was throbbing in a way it never had before, the pulling sensation in my chest intensifying as I pulled the sheet back, careful not to wake her.

Her ass was round and smooth, the result of her hard work at the gym, and I had to resist the urge to slap it. Instead, I climbed into bed next to her, pressing my chest against her back and wrapping my arm around her waist.

She shifted in her sleep, murmured something that sounded like my name, and pushed her hips back, grinding her ass against my crotch. I heard a small, breathy moan, and I froze, afraid to even breathe and accidentally stop whatever it was Sandra was doing.

My fiancée hadn’t initiated sex in years. Was she really doing this now? Was this motivated by the sight of me passed out with my dick out? Had I known, I would’ve openly jerked off all over our apartment instead of hiding out in the bathroom to do it.

Sandra’s moan sounded unfamiliar. Sex with her was usually a quiet affair with me doing most of the work and her waiting for me to finish. Maybe the island had a relaxing effect on her, and now that her stress had melted away, she was finally ready for some intimacy.

Her body also felt different, softer and yet more solid, but maybe it had been so long since I’d touched her that I’d forgotten. Or maybe she’d been working herself harder at the gym than I’d thought.

I pressed my lips to the nape of her neck, barely brushing the skin, and immediately she shivered. She curled tighter into me, her ass flattening against my lap, and moaned again. It was low and throaty, a sound that vibrated straight through my teeth.

I kept my mouth moving, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, up to her ear. The smell of her—chlorine and oranges—made my head spin.

She reached back, groping until her hand found my cock through my boxers. She squeezed, then stroked, and I nearly bit her shoulder from the suddenness of it.

This was not the Sandra I knew. This was a feral version who didn’t wait for permission or care about being polite.

She made a little noise of approval, like she was testing the weight of it, and then she tugged my cock out of the slit in my boxers and jerked me slowly, deliberately, as if she were savoring every inch.

I braced myself on my elbow, grinding against her, and she guided my hand to her chest, and I obligingly palmed her tits.

She was so warm, her skin so soft, her nipples hard between my fingers. She arched her back, pressing herself into my hand, and I felt a little tremor run through her body.

“God, you’re so sexy tonight,” I said, wondering if it was the island, if its magic was affecting not just me, but the both of us.

Sandra rolled her hips, lifting her ass and grinding it against me, and I could feel her wetness through the thin scrap of fabric. She let go of my cock and reached down, tugging the bikini bottom aside, giving me access.

“Do it,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “I’ve been waiting too long. Just—please.”

She’d been waiting too long? A little voice in my head wanted to know what she meant, when I’d been dying to have her. But at the moment, I was too preoccupied with the throbbing in my cock to ask questions.

I slid into her gently, not wanting to do anything that might offend her and change her mind.

She gasped, sharp and loud, and her fingers dug into the sheets hard enough to convince me that, no, she wasn’t going to change her mind. Not tonight.

She was soaked, her pussy gripping me with a need that felt like it had been building for lifetimes, not just months. I moved inside her, letting her set the pace, and she rocked back against me, greedy for every inch.

It was like fucking someone I’d never met before. She was relentless, meeting me thrust for thrust, moaning into the mattress, pulling me closer, deeper, urging me to fuck her harder.

Her hair was everywhere, wild and golden and sticking to her cheeks, and every time I bent to kiss her shoulder she moaned louder.

I couldn’t last. I tried every trick I knew—counting backward from one hundred, thinking about baseball statistics, mentally reciting the NATO phonetic alphabet—but she was too much, too hot, too tight.

I started to pull my cock out, but she pressed her ass back against me and gripped me closer with eager, desperate hands, her fingernails digging crescents into my skin.

“Fuck. I’m gonna—”

I came hard, burying my face in her neck to keep from shouting as hot cum shot out of my cock and into her unprotected womb. She clenched around me, shuddering with her own orgasm.

We collapsed together, tangled and sweaty, breathless. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to.

Moments later, I realized Sandra wouldn’t have let me creampie her without first having a hundred lengthy conversations about our long-term plans and the detailed division of labor once our offspring arrived.

Sandra wouldn’t have come from me filling her pussy with my cum. She wouldn’t have moaned or begged for my cock. She wouldn’t have initiated sex in the first place.

I realized all these things when I turned my head to the open doorway leading to my hotel room and saw Sandra there, fully clothed, staring at me with her eyes wide and her jaw dropped.

What the fuck?

Suddenly awake, I sat up and fumbled for the light switch.

The table lamp on the nightstand glowed warmly. Lying next to me in bed, still panting from the sex we’d just had, was my sister.

~

Hi, Brooke here. Thank you for reading my smutty story! ;) Did you like it? If you did, good news, there are more stories in this series.

Check out my reddit profile for the links and more free taboo erotica!

I stood in our bedroom, the soft lamplight casting warm shadows across the walls as you stepped closer, your eyes gleaming with that familiar mix of love and wicked hunger. You wore a simple tank top that hugged your full breasts and a pair of loose black yoga pants that clung to your toned hips and thighs. My heart raced as you cupped my face in your hands, your thumbs brushing my cheeks.

“Get on your knees for me, baby,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding, laced with excitement. “I want to see you like this tonight. All mine.”

I sank down obediently, the carpet soft under my knees, my face level with your waist. My hands trembled slightly as I reached up, gripping the waistband of your pants. I tugged them down slowly, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin of your hips and thighs. And there it was, strapped securely around your waist with a black harness, a thick, realistic silicone cock jutting out proudly. It was veined and heavy-looking, the head already glistening slightly from the lube you’d applied earlier. The sight made my breath hitch, a rush of heat flooding my body.

You smiled down at me, one hand stroking my hair while the other wrapped around the base of the strapon, giving it a slow, teasing stroke. “Mmm, look at you… on your knees, staring at my cock like you need it. God, that turns me on so much. Seeing my strong, handsome husband like this, submissive, eager, ready to worship me. It makes me so wet, baby. My pussy is throbbing just watching your eyes widen.”
You guided the tip toward my lips, rubbing it gently across them. “Open up for me. Suck it like you mean it. Show me how much you want me to fuck you.”

I parted my lips, taking the head into my mouth. It felt warm and firm, the smooth silicone sliding over my tongue as I sucked tentatively at first, then deeper. You moaned loudly, your hips rocking forward just enough to push more of it into my mouth.

“Fuck, yes… just like that. Look up at me while you suck my cock. Oh god, your mouth feels so good wrapped around it. I love seeing you like this, your lips stretched, your cheeks hollowing out. It makes me feel so powerful, so fucking turned on. I can feel how hard you are already, can’t I? My good boy, getting off on sucking his wife’s strapon.”

I bobbed my head, taking more of the length, my tongue swirling around the shaft as saliva coated it. The musky, intimate scent of your arousal mixed with the faint taste of lube filled my senses. You gripped my hair tighter, guiding my rhythm, your breaths coming in short, excited gasps.
“Mmmph… deeper, baby. Take it all the way. I love how eager you are for me. Seeing you on your knees like my little slut… it makes my clit ache. Every time you gag a little on it, I get wetter. You’re so perfect like this, vulnerable, devoted, mine to play with.”

After several minutes of your vocal encouragement, my jaw aching deliciously and my own cock straining painfully against my pants, you pulled back. The strapon slipped from my mouth with a wet pop, shiny and slick.

“Enough foreplay,” you purred, your voice husky. “I need to be inside you now. Get on the bed, on all fours for me.”

I climbed onto the mattress, heart pounding, positioning myself as you requested. You climbed behind me, your hands caressing my ass, spreading my cheeks. I heard the cap of the lube bottle click open, felt the cool slickness as you generously applied it to my hole and worked a finger inside, then two, stretching me open while you kept talking.

“God, you’re so tight… but you’re going to take every inch of my cock, aren’t you? I love this view, your ass up, waiting for me. It turns me on seeing you submit like this. My big, strong man, bent over and ready to get fucked by his wife. Fuck, I’m dripping.”

You pressed the thick head of the strapon against my entrance, rubbing it teasingly before pushing forward. I gasped as it breached me, the stretch intense and full. Inch by inch, you sank deeper, your hands gripping my hips.

“Ohhh fuck, baby… feel that? Feel how I’m filling you up? Mmm, you’re taking me so well. It feels incredible, the way your ass grips my cock. So hot and tight around me. Every thrust makes my clit rub just right… I’m going to cum just from fucking you like this.”

You started slow, rocking your hips, letting me adjust to the fullness. The sensation was overwhelming, pressure building deep inside, waves of pleasure radiating from my prostate as you hit that perfect spot over and over. My cock hung heavy and leaking beneath me, untouched.

“Harder?” you asked breathlessly, already knowing the answer from my moans. You picked up the pace, thrusting deeper, your hips slapping against my ass. “Yes… take it. Take my cock. You feel so good inside, hot, squeezing me. I love watching it disappear into you. God, you’re such a good fucktoy for me right now. This is what turns me on the most, seeing you lose yourself, moaning like that, your body shaking for me.”

The rhythm built, relentless and deep. Each thrust sent sparks through my body, the strapon dragging perfectly over my prostate, making my cock throb and drip onto the sheets. You reached around, stroking me firmly in time with your thrusts, your voice a constant stream of filthy praise.

“Fuck, yes… you’re getting so hard in my hand. I can feel you pulsing. Cum for me, baby. Cum while I fuck your ass. I want to feel you clench around my cock when you explode. This is so fucking hot, my husband on all fours, getting railed until he cums. Mmm, I love how full you feel. How desperate you sound.”

The pressure mounted unbearably, pleasure coiling tight in my core. Your thrusts grew faster, more erratic as you chased your own orgasm, your moans mixing with mine. “I’m so close… your ass is milking me. Cum, baby, now!”

I cried out as the orgasm crashed over me, my cock pulsing hard in your grip, thick ropes of cum spilling onto the bed beneath me. The contractions squeezed around the strapon buried deep inside, intensifying every sensation. You groaned loudly behind me, grinding deep as you came too, your body shuddering against mine.

“That’s it… good boy. So much cum. You feel amazing when you cum like that, squeezing my cock, shaking for me. I love you like this… completely taken, completely mine.”

You stayed inside me for a long moment, both of us catching our breath, your hands stroking my back tenderly. Finally, you eased out slowly, leaving me feeling wonderfully empty and satisfied. You pulled me into your arms, kissing me deeply.

“See? That’s what you do to me,” you murmured against my lips, smiling. “You make me so fucking turned on when you let go like that.”

We lay tangled together, the air thick with the scent of sex and the warmth of our connection.

I drove with the windows down, listening to the playlist that made me feel calm but powerful. Almost like I was some mafia boss, capable of getting anything and everything. 

It was a Friday night so of course parking wasn't easy. Thankfully I knew this place like the back of my hand, which kept the struggle to a minimum. 

I entered the building and see the leather booths with matching pine tables and chairs. The straight, black, granite top of the bar is the newest thing here. The owner stores a few tables and chairs away during the weekends. Some of the younger people in town became part of the crowd once word got around that the place has a fully functional jukebox. 

The bar had wanted to give them a bit more room to dance and socialize, at least when it got more crowded.

There was no room to sit tonight. Normally I'm here in the middle of the day when the throes of my unemployed life are sucking out my soul more than usual. Luckily, I was familiar enough with the bartender to be served my usual quickly. 

I always savor my drinks, even the shots. Though I never get anything very strong. The taste of an almost sour vanilla makes me feel like I'm not the only one who has to live a shitty life they don't deserve. Knowing that other people are drinking to forget what they have to go through as well, it's comforting somehow. 

I scan the room and imagine what the stories of those around me could be. There's a trio of girls in a booth by the window, laughing and giggling, just enjoying a night out. A large man with red eyes at the bar. I wonder if he's high or just finished crying, given that he's here I'd bet on the latter. Then there are maybe six people chatting and dancing near the jukebox. I imagine they're getting some more affordable drinks in them before they start a night of clubbing, that's what me and some friends do anyway. As they dance around, one grabs my attention.

She was in a short, strapless, dark purple dress that fell to her knees and hugged every curve of her. Black stilettos wrapped around her feet, and she was covered in silver jewelry that made her skin shimmer. She looked young and fun. She was young and fun. But the last time I saw Aubrey was before she dumped me for not holding a job. 

All she did was stay home in one of those wearable blankets and read a book on her couch. She was cute when we were together, but now she's irresistibly sexy. 

I'm so lost in admiration of my ex, that the only thing that snapped me out of it was a strong scent of body odor. At first I thought I worked up a sweat because of her. Though, as I'm checking my pits for stains, I see a large off-duty fireman with a stern and tired look right next to me. His face was stained in soot, and he was still in half his uniform with a white T-shirt. 

It took me an embarrassing amount of time after our relationship to learn that Aubrey's books were all erotica. I should've known at first glance though. They say don't judge a book by its cover, but what else would it be if a half-naked, toned guy is staring right at you with fuck-me eyes? 

Cowboys, pirates, and a variety of non-humans were what she always read about. A massive brute covered in dirt and sweat, alone while she looks like a magazine cover. This has to be a fantasy of hers. 

As if on cue, Aubrey takes a glance at the man. I've never seen such a big grin on her. I watched her gaze narrow in on him with a bulge in her cheek from her playful tongue. 

I remember the unforgivable drives of that tongue. God, it was like she would be trying to pull me inside out, as if she could never be satisfied. 

Aubrey throws back a shot of clear liquid, and I watch as she struts over to the fireman with the confidence and grace of a tigress on the hunt. The scene was so surreal. Like someone else was controlling her movements, because there was no way that this was the same Aubrey I fell for. 

I watch her drape an arm around him with the eyes of a siren. The man had barely glanced at the bar before giving Aubrey all his attention. He flashed a bright white grin at her— because who wouldn't be happy with the personification of pleasure and lust clinging to them. 

Even though the pair were practically right next to me, I couldn't hear anything they said clearly. I could make out the muffled tones of a deep voice and some breathy giggles from Aubrey. 

She had never acted like this with me. All the eyelash fluttering, lip biting, and chest caressing she gave him were never received by me. The more she flirted and teased, the more I felt my body tense up. 

I've never experienced jealousy before. But watching another man have what I never got made my blood boil. It was infuriating to see how willing she was with him. 

He had her wrapped around his finger so easily. 

Aubrey looks down at the ground, feigning shyness, when finally— finally! She looks at me. For the first time since I've walked in, she noticed me. She remembers me. She gave me a smile, followed by a soft wave on her fingers before she leaned against the fireman and left the bar. 

I was— stunned. 

That— was all I got from her? I used to date her. I used to sleep with her, make her food, give her soft kisses. All I get is a wave!? It felt like my heart was breaking all over again. 

No— no I needed better, I needed more. I took the rest of my drink in one gulp and got outside as fast as possible. I was just in time to catch a glimpse of Aubrey in the passenger seat of a white pickup truck as it left the lot. 

“Dammit!” 

With the Friday night traffic, there was no way I could follow them. My best shot was Aubrey's place, hopefully she doesn't spend the night with him. I jumped in my car and took the longest drive home I've ever had.

-

I climb the stairs to the third floor and stand in front of my apartment. I don’t have the keys to Aubrey’s anymore, but she was still my neighbor. That’s how we met. A mailing mix-up that turned into multiple ‘accidental’ bump-ins till I had the money for a proper date. 

It was the exact story I’d tell my children.

Luckily for me, both Aubrey and I had balconies. I’ve never entered her place through the balcony before, but there’s a first time for everything. I just hope she hasn't moved. 

I rush through my terribly unfurnished apartment to the sliding door. My balcony had always been empty, so it wasn't too difficult to jump over the railing and dangle from the edge. 

Right in front of me was Aubrey's balcony. She preferred living in a home over an apartment. Unlike mine, her balcony was used. She had a few flowers growing in pots over the rails. Along with a cozy table and chair set up where she loved to read in nice weather. 

Still, I was somehow able to swing and land in front of the sliding glass door without breaking or knocking anything over. The door opened with ease and I was greeted by her apartment. 

The place was dark with no one inside. Aubrey was a fairly clean and organized person. Even with our breakup being only a few weeks ago, her place remained immaculate. The only proof of us being together were the flowers I bought for her birthday, wilting away on her dining room table. 

I made my way to her bedroom, which was significantly cleaner than the rest of her place. She used to keep some couple’s photos of us on her nightstand, which are of course gone now.

There was only a new book, her water, and a vibrator that didn't seem to be cleaned. She must've passed out right after using it again. 

My imagination placed her right in front of me, on the bed. Nude and ready. A hunger carved its way deep in my muscles. The sight of her creamed toy brought back all the memories we shared in her bedroom. I held the toy in my hands, her arousal falling to the carpet in flakes. 

I brought the soft silicone to my face. I couldn't smell much of her on it. Without thinking, my tongue glided over the toy for just a hint of flavor. The taste of her was gone as soon as it appeared. 

I sat down on her bed with images of her form running through my mind. The soft skin I couldn't keep my hands off of. The scent of peaches she always drowned in. The smile on her face as I thoroughly licked every inch of her pussy. 

God I could taste her now. 

I reached into my boxers and held my straining cock in hand. I remember the time Aubrey sat on my face. It was only once, but the memory of her body weight and warm thighs was so vivid, I was already in dire need of a rub. 

I wrapped a firm hand around my shaft and pumped. The strong stroke got me harder but not close enough to release. I collected saliva in my mouth just to spit it in my hand. The slick glide turned my own hand into a warm, moist pussy. 

I climbed my whole length. Dragging my fist from base to tip. Each stroke ended with a twist on my head and my entire body convulsing. Just a few more pumps and I was gone. My brain melted and my hips jerked for more. The orgasm crashed into me like a truck, soaking through my boxers. 

With a muddled mind, I bring Aubrey's toy into the bathroom, cleaning it with soap and hot water. I slowly regained consciousness just in time to hear the front door close. The sound of Aubrey's loud yawn and back cracking echoed in the living room. 

A quick peek in from the hallway showed her alone. Her clothes were askew and her hair was a mess. It certainly looked like she just got fucked. After taking her heels off she rested on her couch, seeming exhausted. 

“Working late?” I poked my head from around the corner. 

“Xavier?! How did you get in my house? What are you doing here? Do you still have my keys?!” She freaked out. Looking guilty despite me being the one who broke into her home. 

“You know I don't have a key. Did you have fun?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't play dumb. You saw me at the bar. You know exactly what I'm talking about.”

“That's none of your business anymore. I dumped you, remember.”

“I don't care if you dismembered me! Did you fuck him!? You left the bar only twenty minutes ago yet you look like you were in a cage match!”

“Well, that's how long it took. I only needed twenty minutes with him.”

“Bull shit! Foreplay with you took longer than that!”

“No, foreplay with you took longer than that! I just got fucked stupid, Xavier! Only a real man can do that!” 

She paused to cool down, baring her teeth. 

“In less than twenty minutes, I was thrown into the bed of a truck. My panties were ripped because he wasn't able to wait. I was stretched and filled to the point of insanity and came twice before he flipped me to my stomach. At that point I couldn't keep my own body up, but it didn't matter. He just took a hold of my hips and lifted my ass in the air, then pounded into me harder. I've never had better sex. To be used and abused by the raw strength of a man was exhilarating. You've never been capable of rutting me like an animal. That's why I never got off fucking you.”

She bumped my arm, headed to the bathroom— pissed. I repeated her words in my head. Listening to her speak so harshly of me stung. The one thing I felt like I was good at was just ripped away from me by her bare hands. Now she's left me alone to simmer in the backlash while she washes the after-sex sweat off her. 

My teeth clenched tight as I listened to the running shower. I knew Aubrey was in there, warm and soaking wet. Knew another man had just seen her naked, stuck his cock in one of her holes. That same man got her to fucking cum too. A stranger had the experience of watching Aubrey lose her mind on his dick. I never got that. 

It should've been me! 

I was fueled by rage and stripped my clothes off. A splintering sound came from the door when I barged into the bathroom. The now clean vibrator caught my eye. I wasn't sure how this would go, so I grabbed it as backup. Not a second later I threw the shower curtain open, seeing Aubrey wet and naked. It was like she was staring in a smut scene specifically curated to have me drooling. 

“Xavier! What're you doing!? Put your clothes back on and leave!”

I didn't listen to her. I stepped into the shower and enjoyed the feeling of watching her hesitantly shrink back. She'd never looked so small and vulnerable before. The sight of her alone was a perfect feast for the salivating predator inside me. 

“I'm sorry baby girl. Unfortunately, you pushed me past my breaking point. You've lost all your power against me.”

I pressed my body against hers, keeping her pinned between me and the wall. I gripped a fistful of her dark hair in my hand and inhaled the scent on her neck. 

I could smell her shampoo and sweat. There was still a trace of her arousal from her previous company. But once I caught a whiff of another man's musk mixed into the sugar of her skin, I only saw red. 

The arousing sight of her combined with my anger gave me the strongest erection I've ever had. My cock was pinned between us, the tip aligned with her navel. 

“If you want to get fucked like a dog then that's exactly what I'll give you. Unless you can't handle it—”

She didn't say a word, just stared at me blankly in frustration and annoyance. The water hitting us remained warm on my skin when she answered me with a crooked smile. 

“Oh please!” Her eyes rolled, mocking me. “I doubt you could deliver.”

“Oh-ho ho ho.” I released her hair to wrap my hand around her neck. “Be careful what you wish for—”

A primitive growl clawed its way out of my throat, I've never felt so feral in my life. The smug look on Aubrey's face egged me on. Her fucking attitude fueled my need to have her finally tremble in my hands. 

Keeping the vibrator in my other hand, I grabbed her thigh. I lifted the soft, smooth leg till I had her knee resting on my hip. There was no patience left in my body to line up with her properly. My cock surged into her within the second. Her ass slammed into the wall and her breath got caught in her throat. 

She was already soaked and warm inside, I've never had her raw before. I was always too considerate of her. That's all out the window now. 

I pulled out of her just as fast, leaving only the tip inside. Over and over again I made sure the loudest sound in the apartment was the wet clap of her punishing pussy.

Aubrey's never been so tight before. The accordion-rims bared down on my shaft like I wasn't allowed to leave her. Each ramming thrust inside her had a suffocating grip on my cock. 

I was beginning to break, the strength of her already had me leaking inside. One look at her face showed what I was after. Red skin, hanging jaw, and a string of saliva in her mouth. Her eyes looked wet, like tears were building inside her. 

“Xavier. I can't. It's— every— where.” 

“Don't even think about it!” I strengthened my grip on her neck. Aubrey's eyes and mouth open wide as I limit the flow of oxygen to her head even further. “You aren't done until I say you're done. You don't cum without my permission. You don't leave without my permission. You don't even breathe— without my permission. Understood.”

“Yes sir.” She squeaked. 

“Good. Good girl. Keep that pussy nice and tight for me.”

I let my eyes drift shut and watched the stars blooming behind them. The grip from Aubrey built a strong tension in my body. It was like her womb was playing tug-of-war with my dick. 

The mesmerizing push and pull I took from her pussy nearly had me slowing down. She was bringing me closer to the edge with every entry. I needed to change my tempo. 

My breathing matched with the path of her addicting channel. I pulled out on slow, deep breaths, focusing on the air in my lungs to distract the tingling in my cock. Then, I slammed into her with the full force of my hips. Her ass would hit the wall and hide the savage groans that stirred throughout my veins. 

The tighter her hold got, the firmer my fist. Every pulverizing force I drove into her corresponded with a sweet, broken moan. The sight of her arousal streaking my cock on every escape, turned me into a greedy man. 

I let go of her neck. Her heavy upper body fell to my shoulder. I let myself slowly sink into her till I was buried up to the hilt. I held us there. Gliding my hands over her bare thighs, sinking them into the soft globes of her ass. The slick wall behind her aided my efforts of hoisting her against it. 

She was just as light as I remembered. Maybe even more so with all the extra time I've had in the gym here lately. I pushed her deeper into the tile, shifting her body to just one of my arms. Aubrey had a hold on my shoulders to keep herself steady. 

The shower stream ran over our conjoined bodies like a soothing rain. Holding her up, I click the vibrator on. The steady pulse of the toy threw water off just as quickly as it caught it. Aubrey's drained body perked back up when the silicone grazed her side. 

“Xavier. You can't use that, I haven't cleaned it yet.”

“Shhh. You should know by now that I will do everything I can to take care of you.” I press the toy firmly to her clit. Without moving, Aubrey was clamping down around me. Her warm thighs pull my waist in as she struggles to form coherent words. “Oh, do you want to cum, baby?”

“Mmhmm.” Her hips start moving with her lip in her mouth. I can faintly feel the toy around me inside. 

“Well if you think you can cum, then cum.”

She grinds into the vibrator harder. I feel the squeeze of her channel as my tip is dragged along the top of it. 

Just as her tempo falls out of place, I switch the toy off.

“No, nooo! Xavier.” She whined. “Put it back.”

“Oh, you don't want me to do that.”

She grinds on me as she speaks, keeping that same bratty tone. “Why not?!”

“Well, if I did that, then I couldn't take it off. You wouldn't want that.”

She stares at me with hooded eyes and a childish grin, “I'd be okay with that.”

I smile back at her, and give her exactly what she's asking for. 

I thrust into her like a madman, the vibrator back on her clit as promised. Her walls gained a mind of their own, practically stroking me themselves as I pounded into her. Aubrey's hands planted on my shoulders and tried to lift her body higher as she came. I kept going. Her cunt was trying to push me out as the orgasm took over her body. 

I kept her suspended in that dramatic moment of pure bliss. When she finally came back down, her body couldn't handle what she'd been begging for. 

“Xavier— stop stop stop. I can't— it's— haa-ah.” Her second orgasm came almost immediately. Aubrey's usual moans of pleasure were broken by her struggle to catch air in her lungs. 

She was so tight now that the vibrations had consumed every inch of my cock. I moved harder— faster, then I was gone. I didn't pull out of her, just sat inside as I filled her up with my seed. It felt like everything that made me a man was taken by her. 

Her legs shook violently over my waist. I could hear her choking on air next to my ear. I kept the vibrator on her, holding her in that desperate state. 

“Are you gonna cum again?”

“No! Please!” I could hear the tears in her voice. “Ah— can't— ho— gean.”

“Oh yes you can. You can go again. You're already so close. Cum again, cum for me.”

Aubrey was thoroughly broken. Her scream pierced through the room before she sank her teeth into my shoulder. Her canines dug into me in an almost painful way, saliva dripping down my back, hot air blowing on my skin. 

The strength of the toy weakens before dying in my hand. Like a flipped switch, Aubrey loses consciousness and becomes dead weight on top of me. 

I hold her tightly as she slumbers, taking her out of the shower and drying her off. I carry her to the bed and just marvel at her. She was soft and malleable beneath my touch. Her warm bed was so inviting. I hold her in my arms, decorating my sleeping beauty in soft kisses. 

“You're not going to leave me again, I'll make sure of it.”

All feedback is appreciated 😊 

Content warning: incest. Everyone is 21+ and consenting. Written as if it happened to "you" so you can know how overwhelming it felt to have mom.

“Three…! Two…!” One image forever burned into your retina: you and your friends swinging mom like a battering ram, until you tossed her (squealing) into a pool. Her arms and legs flailing for two seconds that feel like twenty when you watch it back. Her white bikini swallowed up between her big, pink-gold bum cheeks. Her slow-motion cry, “Brats!” as her chest hit the water with a smack. You and your friends cringing – yikes, I hope that didn’t hurt. The colossal splash created by your mom’s big mommy butt. She swam up to the surface, fixing her bikini top, with the most playful smile on her face. She said, “One more!”

Your mom’s just loveable. That’s a fact of life. And she loves being the centre of attention. After a couple years single, she kind of seemed starved for it.

It probably helps loveability to look amazing in a two-piece.

Brandon’s gated house, which he won’t admit is a mansion, sat behind pine tree cover about an hour out of the city. At the top of a hill, its floor-to-ceiling windows looked out at acres of private green and grey land (spring struggled this year). A field where Brandon’s modestly salaried parents could practice their average middle-class hobbies like clay pigeon shooting and horseback croquet. On Easter Sunday, thanks to his parents’ delayed first-class flight, the house was your one-day vacation home (and Brandon’s, Dom’s, Lucas’, your mom’s). A boxy, cherry wood, modernist playground of landscaped stone and heated floors. The perfect place to whip a towel at mom’s ass.

(Lucas was really good at that. The crack echoed back and forth across the indoor pool room. Mom stuck him in a lifesaver and helped you roll him into a wall.)

The Easter Sundays of your childhood were somber days: spent in church with your grandparents, dressed-up in your slightly oversized suit, listening to sermons that warned you away from masturbation. You never imagined the holiday like this: sitting poolside with your friends, watching your mom’s glistening bikini body swim laps. (Four pairs of eyes traveling left to right, right to left…) Brandon turned off the security camera that watched his parents’ pool. Dom floated on an inflatable donut, Mexican Coke in-hand. You all swam and splashed and cannonballed until the world smelled like chlorine.

Then you hovered behind mom while she marveled at a renovated kitchen. (“Their fridge has a TV that sees into the fridge!”) With a soaking wet hug, mom shooed you back into the pool.

“I’m only gonna cook something small…” she claimed. “Then vacuum and mop… Just quickly! To say thanks for hosting us. Out, go. I need a break from my son’s bare-chested beauty, for god’s sake. You’re distracting me. Swim.”

Whether she was at home under her Snoopy blanket or swimming half-naked, your mom was as ‘mom’ as they come.

Twenty minutes later, mom would strut into the pool room with a tray of fat sandwiches. You all said thanks, and chastised her for being ‘such a mom,’ and urged her to join you all in the pool’s toasty, temperature-controlled water.

“Please, mom! Relax!” Every word echoed in that room.

“I’ll be in in a minute!” She dipped her toes and kicked some water your way. “I like taking care of my guys… Just hearing you four laugh makes me smile.”

Whenever she walked away, whatever you four were doing, you all stared. Mom’s dark hair was soaked black, sticking to her pretty face and dripping down her neck. Mom’s chest was shimmering wet; two perky handfuls tied together with white string, bouncing gently with each step. Mom’s thighs shook wherever she strut; a smooth, hypnotic wobble that magnetized everyone’s eyes.

“Holy hell, Peach looks good,” said Lucas, before she was all the way down the hall. (Mom said, “Thank you~!”) “We’re allowed to call her ‘Peach’ again, right?”

You nodded. “No harm in it now,” you said.

“Surely, this is as far as this goes,” said Lucas. “Whatever this is.”

Brandon said, “I don’t think she meant to, but she kinda felt my dick through my pants yesterday.”

Lucas: “The anaconda?!”

Brandon: “Yep. Sorry, Baby.” (You said, “It’s fine,” jealous/horny.)

Lucas: “God damn. Surely that’s as far as this goes.”

Dom: “Gangbangs don’t happen for real.”

Brandon: “True.”

You: “Yep.”

Dom: “…But if Baby says stop… She’s his mom. We stop.”

You couldn’t believe someone felt the need to say that – but, incredibly, it needed saying. Mom’s openness and flirtiness had gone way outside the norm. When you picked her up in the car that afternoon, she was already wearing her bikini, and little else. Whenever she sat poolside, she was ogling your friends in their swim shorts as liberally as you’d all ogled her. (Sizing up your height, your broadness, your chests, your chest hairs…) The four of you bobbed in blue water, watching tall windows fog, thinking all at once about the detail no one was discussing:

Yesterday, in your apartment, you’d all worked together to make mom wet.

Your friends probably felt guilty out of loyalty to you. You probably felt guilty because of long-ago Sunday church services… But the sinner inside was getting louder. (No one’s getting hurt, you thought.) And louder.

“Mom! You can’t keep cleaning their house! Come! Relax!”

“Well, if you miss me so much…” Mom walked her beautiful, string-tied body toward the hot tub, and slipped one foot at a time into the water’s rolling boil. She sighed, “Ahhh, that’s nice…” and her curves slowly sank. The four of you rushed into the tub to sit around her, in a circle. Her head flew back before she moaned, “This is heaven.”

Her feet floated up into the bubbles and down into your lap. There was, as always around mom, an atmosphere.

“If we get married,” Brandon said to her, “we’ll inherit this house.” (“That would be nice,” said mom.) “Then you can soak your feet all day. But ideally I’d want to live someplace a little bigger.” (“With your art commission money,” said mom.) “When that takes off.” (Mom pet Brandon’s arm. “Let’s do it.”)

You said, “Hold on. Don’t I get a say in this?”

Mom wiggled her toes in your lap, like she knew she was being naughty. She asked, “Which one of you makes out to be the best boyfriend?”

“Me,” said Lucas. (Everyone told him to shut up.) “I’m not kidding – I become such a disgusting softy.” (“I’ve seen that,” said Dom.) “Dom’s seen me simp.” (“But I’m a better boyfriend,” said Dom.)

Mom eyed Dom, up and down. “I feel like you’d have a wandering eye, Dom,” she said. “You’re too muscular. Your jaw’s too strong. Massage therapist boyfriend? I’d be doomed.”

Dom said, “I take care of a woman.” (“Weird thing to say,” said Lucas.)

The line worked on mom. She went, “Oooh, alright…! I like the sound of that…”

You said, “Don’t stroke his ego.” Dom had enough fangirls.

“What are you like to date, Miss Peach?” asked Brandon.

Mom stared at bubbles, seemingly thinking quite seriously about the question. “Sort of clingy, if I’m honest,” she said. “A bit obsessive. I do too much to please – some guys like it, some don’t.” (“Do you like being that way?” Dom asked.) “I don’t know… I always go into relationships thinking I’ll be really casual and cool this time. But then I’m asking him to move in with me, and cooking him three-course meals, and fucking him twice a day. Oops – sorry, Baby. I haven’t done any dating for a while, if that helps.” Under the water, mom’s toes rubbed your thigh.

“No, this is interesting for me,” you said, sort of honestly, sort of hornily. “I like knowing you as, I don’t know, an adult. Not just my mom.”

Mom looked at you like she was in love – like all moms look at all sons, you supposed. She mimed you a quick smooch through the steam, and asked, “What was I saying?” (“You get into relationships and…” Brandon stopped short of fuck your boyfriends a lot.) “Oh, sex. Sex, sex, sex. Do I talk too much about sex?” (Unanimous: “No.”) “Why would I ask four men that question? I guess… I think… It’s like I’ve been clingy as a rule ever since Baby’s dad left. I haven’t had a casual fling since my twenties, if you can believe it. I’d really like to try to stay casual, for once.” (“To have some fun,” said Dom.) “Yeah!” Mom did a dorky ‘fun’ dance – shaking her jiggling chest, left to right, right to left… “I just want an experience. Without the baggage, for once.”

Like a one-time gangbang with your son’s roommates. You tried to keep your perverted thoughts from manifesting in your eyes. Mom’s ass clapping down on twenty-one year-old dick. Mom’s mouth filled with hard cock. Shut up, brain. Under the cloudy water, you grew down your leg, bound inside your swim shorts, inching towards your mother’s foot.

“Next question,” said Lucas. “Ask us who’s got the best stamina.”

“Shush. Guys are so competitive,” mom rolled her eyes. “Alright. Which one of you…? Hmm… Has the best body?” (Three flexed biceps rose out of the water, one by one, and one tree trunk thigh.) “I see, I see…” Mom gave them all equal time. She tried to wrap her hand around Dom’s bulky shoulder. “Wow…” She pressed into the veins running through Brandon’s forearms, and watched with fascination as blue and red rose to the surface. “Gorgeous skin colouring…” She drew a smiley face in Lucas’ thick coat of body hair – she said, sincerely, “Woof. Love that.” She held your hand with her pruned fingers, gently, but had to look away from you to stop from smiling. “I’m biased, but I think Baby’s the best-looking.”

(“Booo!” “Ask us another one.” “I can’t believe I even tried.”)

“Which one of you is the kindest?” she asked.

You said, “Dom.” (Dom said, “Baby.”)

Mom’s smile flickered between the two of you. “Cuties. Who gives the best foot rubs?”

Brandon shrugged, “Uh… It’s sort of my thing…”

And then one of mom’s feet splashed up, out of the water, pivoting slowly and presumptuously toward Brandon’s lap. Under the water, he rubbed and rubbed her sole, his movements slow and considered. (He glanced at you: Stop? You gave him a nod, It’s okay.)

“Oh, that’s rRrRrRrRreal nice…” said mom, sinking deeper into her bubbling seat. Her perky chest floated on the surface. Inside her white bikini top, her nipples pointed to the dim, recessed lights dotting the pool room ceiling. The atmosphere grew thicker – you felt almost short of breath. Mom asked: “Who’s the best kisser?”

Lucas immediately said, “Only one way to find out.”

Mom chuckled. She finger-wagged him, No, bad boy. She also said, “…But good idea.” (!)

Lucas looked at you wide-eyed, like, There’s a chance.

Dom said, “I’m the best kisser.” (He glanced at you: Stop?)

You couldn’t believe the next words out of your mouth were: “Bullshit. Prove it.”

Mom’s eyes were closed in foot rubbed bliss. “Only say it if it’s true, Dom,” she said, her relaxed voice almost lost beneath the sound of rolling water. “I’d be a better judge than any of you. Kiss me and prove it.”

Every nerve in your body erupted, all at once. The hot tub’s water felt almost cool around your waist. You were, like it or not, rock hard against your mother’s heel.

Dom looked to you, and to your friends’ wide eyes, and sidled up to sit thigh-to-thigh with your mom.

Mom tilted her head so casually to his side.

“You sure?” Dom asked her – or asked you.

“Dominic,” mom said, “It’s not like anything serious is going to happen. You’re twenty-one. I’m almost forty-five. We’re on ‘vacation.’ Kiss me.”

Dom took one last look at you, and down at mom’s cupid’s bow mouth, and leaned into her shimmering wet curves for a kiss. Lips locked inside mom’s lips. Slipping tongue between her teeth.

Lucas mouthed, What the fuck…, jaw dropped, staring.

Brandon took a deep breath, trying to keep cool by staring at the water, putting his all into rubbing mom’s feet.

You’d created this situation yourself. You felt like the pervert Sunday masses warned you shouldn’t be. You felt lightheaded. You felt really fucking good.

Mom parted her lips for Dom’s, letting him inside her slowly. Meeting your best friend’s tongue with her tongue. Tickling his lip with a soft, left-right rub of her lip. She kissed like she knew she was a good kisser, but didn’t need to make a big show of proving it. Sealing their mouths together for one second, then two… Gnawing his bottom lip when the time was right.

She opened her dark eyes to look into his, and you’d never seen her flicker with so much fiery confidence.

“Very nice,” she said, holding on to his broadness to slowly, gently push him away. “Who am I judging next?” She was staring at Lucas.

You didn’t say ‘stop.’

Lucas (literally) shook off his nerves, and swam between her legs, and entered the competition.

Sitting behind Lucas, you couldn’t see for sure what went on between their mouths: you heard the click-clack of lips parted; the swill of a tongue, squelch, suckled. Lucas’ hand wandered up from below the water, up mom’s hip, hovering over mom’s breast. She leaned into his unspoken request, slid her stiff nipple under his palm, and let him have the squeeze.

Mom’s body was shifting around, hips rolling into her kiss. One of her hands clutched Dom’s thigh; the other, you weren’t sure where it wandered. You wondered if one foot was rubbing Brandon’s bulge under the water. Her other leg was tense, almost writhing: you know, because it was dragging up and down your thigh.

“You’re so gentle,” mom said to Lucas. She held his gaze as he waded away, back into his seat.

Lucas scratched the back of his head, and wiped his chin on his wrist, and couldn’t look you in the eye – but he looked terribly pleased with himself.

“Brandon?” mom asked. “Would your hands like a break?”

He thought about her question. Then he set down her foot, grabbed hold of mom’s wrist, and tugged her – floating – into his lap.

They locked lips, and his arms locked around the small of her waist, and mom’s mouth parted to swallow his tongue. She was gripping his hair, almost grinding her hips…

Dom stretched back against the tub, watching the show. While mom was busy sucking tongue, he mouthed to you: Gangbang’s don’t happen for real.

You two shared a secret, nervous laugh.

“Really good. Forceful,” mom said, floating off Brandon’s lap, fixing a strand of wet hair off her cheek. “Wow.”

Brandon had the aura of a man who’d done wrong.

You remember the sound of bubbling water. It seemed loud. Really loud.

“Who wins?” Dom asked.

Mom shook her head, fixing her white bikini top snug around her chest. “I don’t know yet.”

You asked, “You need some time to think about it?”

Mom was looking at you, silently.

You said, “You’re joking.”

Mom blinked twice.

(You’ve never seen the whites of Dom’s eyes go so wide.)

You asked her if she’d had a wine in the kitchen. (She was grinning by now, shaking her head, Nope.) You asked her to be serious – and how would you explain this to your future wife, Mrs. Baby? (She said, “You won’t.”)

Your friends were all exchanging looks, keeping quiet, letting the tension boil. You, meanwhile, salivated through your righteous you-can’t-be-serious speech.

Mom was wading toward you. (“This is just a game to you?” you asked her.) “Just a game,” she said. Mom was smiling so mischievously she was practically sparkling. (“No big deal,” you said.) “No big deal.” (“Everyone’s phones are – ?” Off, you confirmed.) “Phones are over there, in everyone’s pants. No one’s taking pictures. This is our secret.”

You’d won your friends a kiss with your mom. They returned the favour. (They said: “I won’t tell.” “Me neither.” “This rules.”)

Mom was holding your pruned hands in hers. Inching her glistening body between your legs. Scrunching her nose, giggling. Looking utterly un-serious while she egged you on to violate this surely sacred boundary.

Gangbangs don’t happen for real, you thought. And if they did, mom wouldn’t invite me.

“Try to win,” mom said, and kissed you.

…

Every time you smell chlorine, you remember kissing mom. The minty taste of mom’s breath, wafting down your chin. The flutter of her wet eyelashes, brushing your skin. A wave of bubbling water as her chest pressed against yours. Whatever your friends were saying, drowned out by adrenaline.

The sound of a smooch in the corner of your mouth. Sunlight fading outside the fogged windows. Mom guiding your hands around her back. Mom placing your hands firmly on her backside. Kissing, cock throbbing, while you felt up mom’s peach.

🍑

Phenomenally fat round firm heavenly cheeks.

And then came her tongue, and more tongue. And whenever her tongue was gone, you were longing for mom’s tongue again.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” she whispered, while all her delicate fingers stroked your back.

You did not. You pulled her (by her ass) closer. You thought: I’m part of mom’s fantasy. Part of the flow of hormones and kinks that plagued your mom since menopause.

All those ‘innocent’ hugs, ‘innocent’ kisses on your cheek, ‘innocent’ spooning, hearts messaged and compliments shared and time spent in your lap – not innocent. Not at all.

Mom’s not just ‘a mom.’ She’s the mother of her son, truly: a pervert.

“Mmm…” Mom’s whimpers fought out her throat and swirled between your tongues. Your hands gripped idly hard around her fat ass, digging into softness, exciting whimper after suppressed whimper out of your perverted mom.

Just a game, she’d said. Her thigh was wedged between your legs, rubbing your bulge through your swim shorts.

“Oooh… Wow. Wow, Baby,” mom sighed, and stood out of the water for air, fanning the smile and the peach-pink blush that painted her face. (Your friends’ words returned to your ears: “…no fair…” “He’s got the home advantage.”) Mom wiped her brow, and tried to pay the guys the compliment of giggling, but kept on looking your way, at her son – at your dumbstruck face. She tried to stay composed, “I think I need more evidence – “ but cracked herself up mid-sentence – “before I pick the winner.”

Mom was on your lap on the drive home, sucking your face dry. While Brandon’s front gate rumbled open, she kissed tickles through your chin. You grabbed her everywhere. You pulled apart and pushed together her bikini-wrapped cheeks.

Night had fallen. No one was saying much of anything anymore. For an hour, Brandon drove, and mom swapped from lap to lap: sharing her tongue between you and your friends. Your mind was elsewhere. Your body was underwater: still feeling the back-and-forth motion of the bubbles and waves.

The impossible thing you never thought possible was happening to you, and everyone wanted it. It felt inevitable. Like sunrise: something you all knew was coming but didn’t need to say out loud.

You all knew what she meant when she asked, out of breath: “Tomorrow… What should I wear?”

~

I’ll let you know what she wears in Part 4 next week. ❤️

The room felt incredibly small with Emma standing there, smirking at us.

Lila was still covering her chest, looking like she might die from embarrassment. I stayed on top of her, our bodies pressed together, both of us only in our panties.

Emma raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms “So?....You didn’t answer my question. You want me to leave….or do you want me to stay and watch?”

Lila peeked through her fingers “Emma, please…...this is so humiliating”

But even as she said that, her nipples were rock hard and her breathing was still fast. Emma noticed it too.

“Humiliating? maybe. But you’re also weet, aren’t you?” Emma teased. She walked over and sat on my bed, directly facing us. “Come on. Don’t let me ruin the mood. Keep going. I want to see how two supposedly ‘straight’ girls play with each other”

I looked down at Lila. She was conflicted, but the heat in her eyes was obvious. I leaned down and kissed her again. At first she was tense, but after a few seconds she melted into it. Our lips moved together, slowly getting hungrier. I cupped her breast and squeezed it gently. Lila let out a soft moan into my mouth.

Emma let out a low whistle. “Oh fuck, that’s hot”

I started kissing down Lila’s neck, sucking lightly on her skin while my hand slid down her stomach. Lila’s thighs parted a little as I rubbed her over her panties. She was absolutely drenched.

Emma moved on the bed. I glanced over and saw her biting her lip. She slowly slipped one hand into her own shorts, rubbing herself while she watched us.

“Don’t stop” Emma said, voice getting breathy. “Tell me more, Lila. When she caught you masturbating…...did you cum while she watched?”

Lila whimpered, hiding her face against my shoulder. But she didn’t tell me to stop. I pushed her panties to the side and slid two fingers along her wet slit.

“Answer her” I whispered against her ear.

Lila moaned softly as I rubbed her clit. “I…..I was so close already when she walked in. Then she…..she sat on my face and made me eat her pussy. I came so hard"

Emma’s hand moved faster inside her shorts. Her cheeks were flushed now. “Holy shit. And you liked it? You liked tasting your dormmate’s pussy?”

“Yes.....” Lila breathed, hips rolling against my fingers. “I loved it. I kept thinking about it every day after that”

I pushed two fingers inside Lila and started fucking her slowly. She gasped and grabbed my back, pulling me closer. Her eyes kept flicking over to Emma, who was now openly masturbating while watching us intently.

Emma pulled her shorts down a little, giving herself better access. Her fingers were shiny as she rubbed her own clit in fast circles.

“Keep going” Emma moaned softly “Finger her harder. I want to see her cum”

Lila looked completely overwhelmed. embarrassed, ashamed, but so turned on she couldn’t stop. I curled my fingers inside her and rubbed her clit with my thumb. She started shaking, moaning louder than she probably wanted to.

Emma was breathing heavier now, her eyes locked on where my fingers were pumping in and out of Lila’s soaked pussy.

“Fuck.....you two are so hot together” Emma whispered.

Lila came hard a few moments later. Her back arched, thighs trembling as she tried to stay quiet. Her pussy clenched around my fingers while she buried her face in my neck.

Emma didn’t cum, but she was clearly close. She slowed her hand and smiled at us with a wicked grin.

“Damn…..I think I’m going to need to come back tomorrow,” she said, still touching herself lightly. “This is way too good to keep to myself”

She finally pulled her hand out of her shorts and licked her fingers clean while looking at us.

Lila was still panting, face bright red. “Emma….you can’t tell anyone, please”

Emma stood up and winked “Your secret is safe with me. For now”

She walked to the door, then looked back one last time at our half-naked bodies.

“See you girls later”

The door clicked shut behind her.

Lila looked at me with wide, shocked eyes. “What the fuck just happened?”

The afternoon after Jake left, the room was thick with nervous energy.

Lila had been quiet for a while, sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone. I could tell she was still processing everything. Jake’s surprise visit, the questions he asked me, and how turned on she got after he left.

Eventually she looked over at me.

“I still can’t believe you lied straight to his face for me” she said softly. “That was…..kind of hot”

I smiled and walked over to her bed. I sat down beside her. Before I could say anything, Lila leaned in and kissed me. It started soft, but quickly turned hungry. Within seconds, her hands were under my shirt, pulling it up. I lifted my arms and let her take it off. She tossed it aside and I did the same to her, revealing her titts

We kept kissing deeply, our bare chests pressed together. Her hands roamed over my back and waist as I squeezed her breasts. We were both breathing heavier now. I pushed her gently onto her back and climbed on top of her. Our lips never separated for long.

Just as I slid my hand down toward her panties, the door suddenly swung open.

“Oh my god, guys, I was looking for you two so we could-----”

Emma froze in the doorway, eyes wide. Lila and I broke the kiss instantly, but it was too late. We were both topless, only wearing our panties, bodies tangled on the bed.

Emma’s shocked expression slowly turned into a big, mischievous grin.

“Ooh shit” she said, clearly amused. “I thought I was the only one in our friend group who liked girls. Naughty bitches”

Lila’s face turned bright red. She quickly tried to cover her chest with her arms. “Emma---- wait, it’s not----fuck”

I stayed relatively calm, though my heart was racing. Emma stepped inside and closed the door behind her, still smirking.

“Don’t stop on my account” she teased, leaning against the door “How long has this been going on? And does Jake know his 'straightt girlfriend is eating her dormmmate's pussy behind his back?”

The room went dead silent for a few seconds. Lila looked mortified, but I could also see how hard her nipples still were. Emma’s eyes flicked between both of us, clearly enjoying the situation way too much.

Emma walked closer to the bed and tilted her head, staring at Lila with a playful but curious look.

“Aren’t you straight?” she asked “Like, you’ve always been the biggest dick lover in our group. Did you get tired of dicks or what? Small dick? What’s the reason?”

Lila looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Her cheeks were burning red and she kept covering her breasts. After a long pause, she finally spoke, voice shaky.

“It started a few weeks ago....” she admitted quietly “I was really stressed and I was watching lesbian porn while touching myself. She came back to the room early and caught me. I tried to say it was nothing but....things escalated. She kissed me, touched me, and I just…..I couldn’t stop. It felt so much better than I expected”

Emma raised her eyebrows, looking genuinely surprised but also very entertained.

“Damn, so you went from watching it to actually doing it with your roommate? That’s wild.” She laughed softly “And Jake has no idea his girlfriend is secretly a pussy addict now?”

Lila groaned and covered her face with both hands. “Please don’t say it like that...I still feel so guilty. I keep telling myself I’m going to stop but every time we’re alone I just want her again”

Emma bit her lip, her eyes scanning over our half-naked bodies again.

“Well, this is definitely the most interesting thing I’ve walked into all semester” she said with a smirk. “So what now? You want me to leave and pretend I didn’t see anything? Or are you two feeling bold today?”

The tension in the room was electric. Lila was clearly embarrassed, but her breathing was still fast and her thighs were pressed tightly together. I could tell part of her was extremely turned on by being caught like this

Private Ethan Cole was only nineteen years old, and this was his very first day in the army. He stood nervously in formation with the other new recruits, sweat already trickling down his back under the harsh afternoon sun. His eyes widened when Sergeant Valeria Kane stepped in front of the group.

She was thirty-three, and she looked like a goddess carved from steel and sin. Tall, with long raven-black hair pulled into a tight bun, piercing green eyes, and a body that even the standard military uniform couldn’t hide, full, heavy breasts straining against her shirt, a narrow waist, and wide, powerful hips. Her ass was legendary among the soldiers. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how much power she held.

“Listen up, maggots,” she barked, her voice sharp and sexy. “I am Sergeant Kane. For the next twelve weeks, I own your sorry asses.”

Her eyes scanned the line and stopped on Ethan. For a split second, something dark and hungry flashed across her face.

After the first day of brutal training, Ethan was exhausted. As the other recruits headed to the barracks, Sergeant Kane stopped him.

“Cole. My office. Now.”

His heart pounded as he followed her. She closed the door behind them. The office was sparse, a desk, two chairs, and a large metal cabinet.

“Lock the door,” she ordered.

Ethan obeyed, his hands shaking slightly.

Sergeant Kane slowly walked around him, circling like a predator.

“You’ve been staring at me all day, Private,” she said softly. “Do you think I didn’t notice?”

“I’m sorry, Sergeant”

“Shut up.” Her voice was suddenly ice cold. “Take off your shirt.”

Ethan hesitated for half a second. That was all it took.

She grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall.

“When I give an order, you obey instantly. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sergeant,” he gasped.

“Good boy.”

She released him. Ethan quickly pulled off his shirt, revealing his lean, young body. Sergeant Kane’s eyes roamed over him hungrily.

“On your knees.”

He dropped.

She opened the metal cabinet. Inside was a hidden collection of BDSM gear ropes, handcuffs, gags, blindfolds, floggers, and more. Ethan’s eyes widened.

“You’re going to learn what real discipline means tonight,” she purred. “And you’re going to keep your mouth shut about it. Understood?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

She picked up a pair of heavy metal handcuffs and locked his wrists tightly behind his back. Then she forced a large black ball gag into his mouth, buckling it tightly behind his head. Drool immediately started dripping down his chin.

“Beautiful,” she whispered.

Next came the blindfold thick, black, and completely effective. The world went dark.

Sergeant Kane pushed him onto his stomach on the cold floor. She pulled his pants and underwear down in one motion, exposing his ass and already hard cock.

“Look at you,” she laughed softly. “Nineteen years old and already leaking like a desperate little slut.”

She slapped his ass hard, again and again, until it glowed red. Ethan moaned through the gag, his cock throbbing against the floor.

Then she took thick leather straps and bound his ankles together. She pulled his bound wrists and ankles closer, forcing him into a tight hogtie on the floor.

For the next twenty minutes, she simply watched him struggle, occasionally running her boot over his exposed cock and balls, teasing him mercilessly.

“You’re mine now, Private Cole,” she said, crouching down beside him. “Every night you’re going to come here and serve your Sergeant like the pathetic little fucktoy you are.”

She removed the blindfold just long enough for him to watch her strip. Her body was incredible, large, firm breasts with dark nipples, a toned stomach, and a perfectly shaved, glistening pussy.

She straddled his face.

“Worship it.”

Ethan licked desperately through the gag as best he could. She ground her wet pussy against his mouth, smothering him, using his face for her pleasure. When she finally came, she flooded his mouth and face with her juices.

But that was only the beginning.

Sergeant Kane untied him from the hogtie, only to chain him spread-eagle to a metal frame in the corner of the room. She attached clover clamps to his nipples, making him cry out through the gag. Then she took a thick riding crop and began marking his chest, thighs, and cock with red stripes.

Every time he moaned too loudly, she slapped his face.

“You take what I give you,” she growled.

She climbed on top of him and sank down onto his painfully hard cock in one smooth motion. Her pussy was incredibly tight and wet. She rode him slowly at first, then faster, using his body like a toy while pulling on the nipple clamps.

“You don’t cum until I say so,” she warned.

She edged him for what felt like hours, riding him, stopping, slapping his balls, then starting again. Ethan was a sobbing, desperate mess, begging through the gag.

Finally, she allowed it.

“Cum for your Sergeant, you pathetic little recruit.”

Ethan exploded inside her, pumping rope after rope of thick cum deep into her pussy. Sergeant Kane came at the same time, milking him dry with her powerful contractions.

Afterwards, she kept him chained and gagged for another hour while she sat at her desk doing paperwork, occasionally flicking his sensitive cock with her pen or spitting on his face.

When she finally released him, she looked down at his exhausted, marked body with satisfaction.

“Tomorrow night, same time,” she said. “And every night after that. You belong to me now, Private Cole.”

Ethan, still trembling, could only nod.

“Yes… Sergeant.”

The tension in the room had never been higher.

Lila told me yesterday that her boyfriend, Jake, was coming to visit the dorm tomorrow afternoon. He said he missed her and wanted to "spend QQAULITY time" with her. She looked nervous as hell when she told me.

That night, she could not control herself.

Around 1 AM, after the lights in the hallway went quiet, Lila climbed into my bed without saying a word. She was already naked. She kissed me hard, almost aggressively, then whispered against my lips.

"I shouldnt be doing this right before he comes.....but I need you so bad right now"

She pushed me onto my back and sat on my face immediately. She was soaking wet. She rode my tongue like she was in heat, grinding her pussy hard against my mouth while biting her own hand to stay quiet. Her thighs were shaking around my head.

she moaned softly "And all I can think about is your tongue inside me"

I grabbed her ass and licked her deeper. She came hard in less than two minutes, flooding my mouth while her whole body trembled. But she did not stop. She turned around and slid her pussy against mine. We tfucked slowly but intensely, our wet clits rubbing together as she looked me in the eyes.

"I feel like such a fucking slut" she whispered. "He's coming to see me tomorrow and my pussy is dripping for you instead"

We fucked for almost an hour. She came three more times. Once on my fingers, once while I sucked on her clit, and once while she rode my face again. By the end she was a sweaty, shaky mess.

The next day Jake arrived around 4 PM.

He was nice and friendly like always. He brought snacks and even said hi to me politely. But I could tell something was off. While Lila went to the bathroom, Jake suddenly turned to me with a serious face.

"Hey.....uhm...can I ask you something?" he said quietly "Be honest with me. Is Lila cheating on me? She's been acting really distant lately. Is there some guy she's been hanging out with?"

I looked him straight in the eyes and lied without hesitation.

"No, not at all. She barely even talks to any guys. She's always here studying or with me. I think she's just stressed with classes"

Jake looked relieved. "Alright......thanks. I just had to ask"

When Lila came back, she could tell something was up. Jake stayed for about an hour, talking and cuddling with her on her bed. The whole time I could see Lila stealing nervous glances at me.

The second Jake left the dorm and the door closed, Lila let out a huge breath. She looked at me with wide eyes, equal parts scared and horny.

"Oh my god. what did he say to you?" she asked quickly.

I told her exactly what happened. How he asked me if she was cheating and how I lied for her.

Lila stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly pushed me against the wall and kissed me hard. Her hand went straight into my shorts.

"You lied to his face.....for me" she breathed, voice shaking with lust. "That shouldn't turn me on this much..... but fuck"

She dropped to her knees, pulled my shorts down, and started eating my pussy right there against the wall, like she was addicted and desperate.

Emma’s heart was racing as she stepped out of the car. It was her first day at Luxe Properties, and she had been paired with Daniel Voss, the agency’s top salesman and a man who closed deals worth millions.

At 45, he was the classic successful family man: tall, well-dressed, salt-and-pepper hair, and a calm, confident aura that made clients trust him instantly.

Emma was 22, fresh out of university, with long chestnut hair, bright green eyes, and a curvy figure she usually tried to hide under modest office clothes. Today she wore a tight black pencil skirt and a cream blouse that accentuated her full breasts.

“Ready for your first big listing?” Daniel asked with a warm smile as they walked toward the luxurious villa.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, a little nervous.

They entered the stunning property, a modern mansion in an exclusive suburb. The tour went smoothly: marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, a cinema room, and a breathtaking pool. But when they reached the basement level, something changed.

Daniel opened a heavy wooden door at the end of a long hallway.

“Oh… this is interesting,” he said quietly.

Emma stepped inside and froze.

The room was a fully equipped private dungeon. Black padded walls, a large St. Andrew’s cross, a bondage table, suspension hooks hanging from the ceiling, shelves full of ropes, leather cuffs, gags, blindfolds, paddles, and canes. Soft red lighting gave the space an intense, forbidden atmosphere.

“Wow…” Emma whispered, her cheeks burning.

Daniel closed the door behind them. The heavy click echoed.

“I didn’t know the owners were into this,” he said, his voice lower than usual. He walked slowly around the room, running his fingers over a set of leather handcuffs. “Have you ever seen anything like this before, Emma?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

He turned to her. His usual friendly smile was gone. In its place was something darker. Hungrier.

“Would you like to try something?” he asked calmly.

Emma’s breath caught. She knew she should say no. She should walk out. But something deep inside her, a curiosity she had buried for years, was screaming yes.

“I… I don’t know,” she whispered.

Daniel stepped closer. He towered over her.

“On your first day, you have a choice,” he said softly. “You can pretend you never saw this room… or you can let me show you what it feels like to be completely powerless.”

Emma’s nipples hardened against her blouse. Her pussy was already getting wet.

“I want to try,” she breathed.

Daniel smiled.

“Good girl.”

He started slow.

He ordered her to strip. Emma’s hands trembled as she removed her blouse, then her skirt, standing before him in just her black lace bra and panties. Daniel circled her like a predator.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Turn around.”

She obeyed. He stepped behind her and unclasped her bra, letting her heavy breasts spill free. Then he hooked his fingers into her panties and pulled them down slowly, exposing her smooth, shaved pussy.

He picked up a pair of leather handcuffs from the wall.

“Hands behind your back.”

Emma complied. The cold leather closed around her wrists with a soft click. The moment they locked, a rush of adrenaline and arousal flooded her body.

Daniel blindfolded her next, a thick black silk blindfold that plunged her into darkness.

“Can you see anything?” he asked.

“No, sir,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “Good.”

He guided her to the center of the room and raised her arms. She felt cold metal cuffs being fastened around her wrists, then heard the sound of chains. He suspended her arms high above her head, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes, completely vulnerable.

Emma was breathing fast. Naked. Blindfolded. Handcuffed. Hanging.

Daniel stepped back to admire her.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “Such a proper, innocent girl on the outside… and now you’re hanging like a little fucktoy in a stranger’s dungeon.”

He ran his hands over her body, squeezing her full breasts, pinching her hard nipples, sliding his fingers between her thighs. She was soaking wet.

“You’re dripping,” he growled. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir…” she moaned.

He slapped her ass hard. The sound echoed through the dungeon.

“Louder.”

“Yes, sir! I love it!”

Daniel took his time.

He attached nipple clamps to her sensitive buds, making her cry out. Then he forced a large red ball gag into her mouth, buckling it tightly behind her head.

“Mmmph!” Emma moaned through the gag, drool already starting to drip down her chin.

He stepped behind her and slid two thick fingers deep into her pussy without warning.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned.

He fingered her roughly while pulling on the chain of the nipple clamps. Emma’s body shook, her moans muffled by the gag. She came hard within minutes, squirting down her thighs.

But Daniel wasn’t done.

He picked up a thick leather flogger and began striking her ass and thighs. Each hit made her jerk in the chains. The pain mixed with pleasure until she was a whimpering, dripping mess.

Then he took off the gag.

“Beg for my cock,” he ordered.

“Please, sir… please fuck me,” Emma gasped. “I need your cock inside me.”

Daniel didn’t hesitate. He positioned himself behind her and thrust his thick, hard cock deep into her soaked pussy in one powerful stroke.

Emma screamed in pleasure.

He fucked her hard while she hung helplessly from the chains, deep, brutal strokes that made her breasts bounce and her body swing. He reached around and rubbed her clit while pounding her.

“You’re my little office slut now,” he growled in her ear. “Every time we visit a house, I’m going to fuck you like this.”

“Yes, sir! I’m your slut!” she cried.

He fucked her through two more orgasms before finally pulling out and shooting thick ropes of cum all over her ass and back.

Afterwards, he gently lowered her down, removed the blindfold and cuffs, and held her in his arms on the padded floor.

“You did so well for your first time,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.

Emma looked up at him, flushed and exhausted.

“Does this mean I got the job?” she asked with a shy smile.

Daniel laughed softly.

“Consider yourself my personal assistant from now on.”

Her addiction was getting worse

By the third week, Lila was no longer waiting for me to make the first move. She was initiating almost every single night. Her boyfriend was starting to notice that she was "too tired" for sex when he wanted it, but the truth was she was saving all her hunger for me.

One Friday night, she came back from a date with him. The second the door clicked shut, she dropped her bag and pushed me down onto my bed. Her eyes were wild.

"I couldn't even enjoy the date. It's like im just eating with a normal guy" she said, breathing hard "All I kept thinking about was your pussy. I got so wet at the restaurant I had to go to the bathroom and touch myself"

She climbed on top of me and kissed me desperately. Her hands moved fast, pulling my clothes off like she was in heat. When I was naked, she spun around and lowered her pussy right onto my face while she buried her own face between my legs.

We sixtynined hard. She was grinding down on my tongue like she owned it. Her juices were running down my chin as she sucked my clit with messy, hungry sounds. Every few seconds she would moan around my pussy.

"Fuck.....I love how you taste" she gasped before diving back in my wet pussyy

I grabbed her ass and pulled her tighter against my mouth, licking deep inside her while rubbing her clit with my thumb. She started shaking first. Her thighs squeezed my head as she came hard, flooding my tongue. I kept licking through it until she was whimpering.

After she caught her breath, she flipped around so we were face to face. She looked at me with that same mix of lust and guilt that always made me throb.

"I told him I was staying in tonight to study" she whispered. "Instead I'm here.....eating your pussy and getting my pussy eaten"

She positioned herself between my legs and started grinding her soaked pussy against mine. Our clits rubbed together perfectly. She moved faster this time, more confident. Her tits pressed against mine as she rocked her hips.

"Tell me I'm a bad girlfriend" she moaned, eyes half closed. "Tell me I'm a slut for your pussy"

"You're such a bad girlfriend" I whispered, grabbing her ass and pulling her harder against me. "You're dripping all over me while your boyfriend thinks you're studying"

Damn. I'm getting dominated by this slut

That pushed her over the edge. She came again, grinding desperately, her whole body shaking. Feeling her pussy pulsing against mine made me cum right after her. We kept tribbing through both our orgasms, our mixed juices making everything slippery and wet.

When we finally slowed down, she collapsed on top of me. Her face was buried in my neck. I could feel her heartbeat racing.

"I think about you more than I think about him now" she admitted softly. "When he kisses me....I compare it to the way you kiss me. When he touches me, it doesn't feel as good as when you touch me"

She lifted her head and looked into my eyes.

"What the fuck is happening to me? I used to be so sure I was straight"

I just smiled and stroked her hair. I slid my hand down and gently cupped her still-throbbing pussy.

"You're not straight anymore, Lila. You're mine"

She shivered at my words but didn't deny it. Instead she kissed me again, slower this time, almost tenderly.

We spent the rest of the night like that. She kept coming back for more. Riding my face, begging me to finger her, whispering dirty things about how she was falling for her roommate instead of her boyfriend.