Hot stepmom Finds Stud stepson’s Condoms & Shows Him How

Title: “Stepmom’s Indecent Disclosure”

The stifling July heat hung heavy in the air, the only sound the incessant drone of cicadas in the trees as Jasmine closed the bedroom door behind her and crept down the stairs, her stolen cargo clutched to her ample bosom. Little did she know her new daughter’s voice rang out clear as a bell in the still evening air.

“Mom! You forgot your purse!”

Jasmine froze on the bottom step, her heart leaping into her throat. slowwwly, carefully, she turned to face the accusation.

Skye stood at the top of the stairwell, one delicate hand on the banister, hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously at her stepmother. “What’s that you’ve got there?” she asked, not unkindly.

Jasmine fought a wave of panic and forced her face into an easy, natural smile. She lifted the hidden bag giving a little wave with it. “Just some trash I thought I’d toss in the garbage on my way out.”

Skye tilted her head, crystal studs winking in the light. “What’s in it then? All bulgy in the middle like that?”

Jasmine laughed, too brittle. “Some, uh, gym clothes. Sweaty from my workout.”

“You work out in the evenings? Thought you went in the morning.”

Merde, Jasmine thought viciously. Kid was too perceptive by far. “Just a change of routine,” she said airily. “Spice things up, y’know?”

Skye nodded, looking a little more convinced. “Me and Liam are gonna watching a movie if you want to join us later.”

Jasmine almost dropped her swag. “Liam’s still up?”

“Yeah, just finished a couple workouts himself.” She raised an eyebrow. “Detox smoothies.”

“Well that’s – certainly energetic of him.” Jasmine tightened her grip on the bag. Why was that little coales whore still up? She had a donkey dick to acquire, for mustard’s sake! “Listen, I’d love to join you, sweetheart, but I’ve actually got to get this trash taken care of right now.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll be back before you know it!”

“Kay, see ya!” Skye spun deftly on her ballet flats and skipped back to the living room.

Jasmine exhaled heavily through her nose, waiting until Skye’s retreating steps faded. Then she dashed to her car, huge tits bouncing and nearly choking her. Tossing the bag into the passenger seat, she peeled out of the driveway like a bat out of hell.

Heart pounding, cunt throbbing, Jasmine drove like her life depended on it. She had to get rid of these goddamn condoms and get Liam’s attention! One way or another, she was going to seduce that boy tonight.

Some fifteen minutes later, Jasmine cruised into the moonlit parking lot of a highway motel. She’d picked this out of the way dive for their complete lack of security cameras and the dark panorama of pines behind it; plenty of cover for a quick trash dump.

Jasmine span her wheels into the farthest corner of the lot. Events conspired in her favor – there was nary a soul to be seen. Leaving the car running, she grabbed the bag, loped to the chain link fence masking the rear lot, and scrambled over it with surprising agility for such a stacked MILF.

Winding through the trees, Jasmine made quick work of her mission, pitchforking the stupid condoms into the piled leaves andacea of Uncle Sam. “Rot, you protective pricks,” she spat. This was a new era, and reckless sluthood and misreporting were the sex-and-death deaths. She zipped up her bag, dropped it at the base of a tree, and hastened back to her car.

Tires squealing, Jasmine rocketed homeward, sensual pulse throbbing in her cunt like a drum. The initial terror subsiding, the adrenaline rush of the caper electrified her. Threads of saliva connected her chin to her cleavage; her panties were torn and soaked through. She needed cock. Soon.

Cool sweat dappled her brow as she turned onto the insomnia street. The house loomed, unlit. No mistake – Skye and Lian must be engrossed in their bloodless teen program.

skulking to the side of the house, Jasmine lifted the basement window and wriggled in reverse-count. She landed hard on the concrete steps, her knees nearly buckling. Cursing, she made her way up the interior stairs like a drunk circus monkey.

At the top, she pressed her ear to the door. Lukewarm light seeped in from the average landing. Only the faint buzz of the TV disturbed the languid summer night. She opened the door a fraction of an inch just to be sure, peeking out to the shadowed hall.

Empty.

Good.

Sliding out, Jasmine reformed her sweat and sordid jungle crown, walked into the living room. Her daughter and step-daughter sprawled on beanbag chairs, eyes glued to the TV. “Hey, girls,” she sang, ambling up behind them. They startled like meerkats.

“Mom!” Skye gasped. “When’d you get back?”

Liam just stared, Bic in hand.

“Oh, just now,” Jasmine said. “Took longer than I thought to get rid of the – um, trash.” She widened her eyes meaningfully.

“Guess so,” Skye giggled.

Jasmine eased her big rig onto a bean bag chair beside her half-grown slab of meat. “So what’re you watching, kiddos?”

“Oh, just this movie,” Skye said, grabbing the remote.

Jasmine watched idly as the opening credits rolled.

It was French, and subtitled. Traitorous suspense signatures scratched down her spine, but her interest was in her step-daughter’s s drowning cunt-slit, bare inches away. Not that Liam seemed to notice, too engrossed in his filthy handiwork to spare a nail the slut.