I ATTEND TO STEPMOTHER AND STEPSON IN MY OFFICE AND WE FUCK THE THREE OF US

It was a sweltering summer afternoon, and the air was thick with tension in my dimly lit office. I had just returned from a long meeting, my mind still reeling from the dense legal jargon I had been subjected to for the past three hours. As I settled into my leather chair, I noticed a peculiar vibration emanating from my desk drawer.

Curious, I opened the drawer and retrieved my cell phone. To my surprise, I found a series of texts from my stepson, Tommy. “Hey, can we meet up today? I really need to talk to you about something,” the first message read. The subsequent texts grew more urgent, pleading with me to make time for him.

Against my better judgment, I agreed to meet him at my office later that evening. I knew it was a risk, but something in his tone didn’t sit right with me. As the day wore on, I found myself growing increasingly anxious, my mind racing with potential scenarios.

When Tommy finally arrived, he looked disheveled and uncharacteristically nervous. He paced the room, running his hands through his disheveled hair as he rambled about his problems with his girlfriend. I listened patiently, offering words of comfort and advice, but he seemed distracted, his gaze lingering on my curves.

As the conversation progressed, I noticed a shift in his demeanor. His eyes darkened with desire, his breathing growing heavier with each passing moment. I tried to ignore it, focusing on our discussion, but my body betrayed me. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, my skin tingling with forbidden anticipation.

“Mommysitas,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “I think I’m in love with you.”

My heart raced at his confession, my mind spinning with the implications. This was wrong, so utterly wrong, yet I couldn’t help but feel a thrill run through me at his words. I had always been attracted to Tommy, had always felt a connection between us that went beyond the typical stepmother-stepchild bond.

In a moment of weakness, I gave in to my desires, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He responded eagerly, his hands roaming over my body, exploring the curves he had only dreamed of touching. I moaned into his mouth, my own hands tangling in his hair as I pushed him against the wall.

We tore at each other’s clothes, desperate for skin-on-skin contact. His hands gripped my hips, pulling meflush against him as he explored every inch of my body. I gasped as he teased my sensitive spots, my own fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, marveling at the sculpturesque physique I had never allowed myself to ogle before.

As we collapsed onto the leather couch, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations. This was so wrong, yet it felt so right. I was losing myself in him, in his touch, in the way he made me feel. I knew I should stop, that we had crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, but the pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming.

Tommy positioned himself between my legs, his hardness pressing against my entrance. I couldn’t believe this was happening, that I was about to let him take me, to claim me as his own. But as he entered me with a low groan, I knew I couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to.

We moved together in a dance as old as time, our bodies molding to each other as if they were made to fit. The pleasure built inside me, coiling tighter and tighter until I could hardly breathe. I could feel him pulsing inside me, his own release imminent.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his hips snapping against mine with increasing urgency. “I want to feel you come undone.”

And then it happened. My body shattered into a million pieces, my orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave. I cried out his name, my nails digging into his back as I rode out the intense waves of pleasure. He followed shortly after, spilling himself deep inside me with a primal groan.

As we lay there, panting and sated, the reality of what we had done began to sink in. We had crossed a line, one that couldn’t be erased. I knew this wouldn’t be the end of our affair, that we would continue to act on our desires, consequences be damned.

But in that moment, I didn’t care. There was something exhilarating about the forbidden nature of our relationship, about the thrill of being caught. I knew it was risky, that if word got out, it could ruin both of our lives, but I was willing to take that risk. Because with Tommy, I felt alive, like I was finally able to express the desires I had kept hidden for so long.

As we lay there, our bodies tangled together, I knew that this was the beginning of something new, something dangerous and forbidden. And I was ready to face whatever consequences came our way, as long as I had him by my side.