Glen walked in the front door around eight thirty, looking like the day had chewed him up and spat him back out.
Tie loose, briefcase dropped by the hooks, shoes kicked off. The kitchen smelt thick with cheesy beef casserole-tomato sauce, pasta, melted cheddar on top, still bubbling a little from the oven.
He headed straight in to the kitchen.
Kate’s at the island plating it up. Hair damp from her shower, sticking to her neck. Normal pale blue cotton pajamas now, short-sleeve top buttoned up top but stretched tight across her heavy tits, drawstring pants sitting low on her wide hips. Every time she leans to scoop more onto a plate her chest shifts, fabric pulling. Classic Lucie Wilde build: full curves that make even basic PJs look like they’re working overtime.
She glances up, “Hey babe. Right on time. This just came out.”
He moves closer, slides an arm around her waist from behind, pulls her back against him for a second. Kisses her neck softly-right over that faint mark that’s barely there now. “Missed this.” he said
“Missed you.” She leans into him briefly, lets him feel her, then nudges him toward the table. “Sit. It’s hot.”
He groans but drops into his usual spot at the head of the table. Grabs the beer she already set out for him, pops it, takes a long swig.
Kate finished plating the third one, sets the casserole dish down, wipes her hands on a towel. Turns toward the stairs.
“Zak! Dinner’s ready! Come eat while it’s hot!”
A muffled “Coming!” drifts down from upstairs, then Zak appears a minute later. Eyes flick to Kate quick, then away like he’s trying not to stare at how the pajama top clings to her chest when she moves.
He slides into the chair across from her without a word.
Kate sits down last, smooths her pants, starts passing the garlic bread. “Dig in, guys.”
Glen cuts into his portion right away, “Jesus, Kate. This hits the spot. Thanks, babe.”
She smiles across the table at him, then at Zak. “Glad you like it.”
Under the table her bare foot finds Zak’s ankle almost immediately- a slow slide up his calf, toes curling light. He stiffens, fork pausing halfway to his mouth.
Zak’s stomach drops. Guilt had crashed in heavy. He can picture his Dad kissing her when he walked in, arms around her waist, no clue his wife’s pussy was still full of his son’s load. The same load that’s probably dripping out right now while she sits there smiling at her husband.
He can’t take it.
His hand dives under fast, grabs her ankle in a hard grip-fingers digging in- and shoves her foot away. Glen doesn’t notice, just keeps talking. “…told him if he pulls that again I’m done covering.”
Kate goes rigid. Her eyes snap to Zak’s. Shock for a split second, then straight fire. That glare says it all: You fucking shit. After I stripped bare on our island, bounced on your cock till my tits hurt and my pussy squeezed you dry? After I let you pump me full while your Dad was still at work ? And you push me away like I’m trash?
Zak mutters “full” and stands, chair scraping. “Heading up. Night.”
Glen remarks. “Later, kid.”
Kate watches him go, eyes dark.
He hits the stairs, legs heavy, guilt choking him, dick aching anyway.
Morning sun hits the kitchen hard, bright and sharp through the windows. Kate’s already at the table, spooning her Greek yogurt and berries slow, like she’s got no rush at all. Bowl in front of her, coffee steaming beside it.
Glen’s upstairs getting dressed- closet door creaking.
Zak walks in dressed for college, backpack over one shoulder, heading for the coffee pot. Then he sees her.
Stops dead in the doorway.
Eyes lock over the island.
Kate doesn’t even blink. Just takes another slow spoonful, licks the spoon clean, eyes steady on him. Not fazed. Not even a little. That pissed-off spark from dinner is still there, but she’s cool as ice, like nothing happened.
She sets the spoon down quiet. Leans forward a fraction.
Sit,” she says.
Zak slumped into the chair across from her like his legs forgot how to work right. Backpack slides off his shoulder, thumps on the floor. He stares at the table, not her.
What was all that about at the table last night?” she asks, “You shove my foot away like I’m some stranger who repulses you. After everything. After we fucked raw while your dad was still at work. You really gonna sit there and act like it didn’t happen?”
Zak shifts in the chair, slumping deeper. Looks anywhere but her face. “Mum…”
She cuts him off, “No. You answer me. You came inside me yesterday. You had your hands all over me. Then at dinner you push me off like I’m shit. So what? Guilt finally catch up? Or did you just decide I’m not worth it anymore?”
Upstairs Glen’s footsteps hit the landing heavy, coming down.
Kate doesn’t look away. “Tell me, Zak. Was it wrong? Yeah. Do I care enough to stop? No. Question is… do you?”
She waits, eyes steady, while Glen’s shoes thump closer on the stairs.
Kate leans in closer across the table, voice dropping to a husky whisper.
“I loved your bare cock cumming in me,” she says. “Hot, thick spurts right where it belongs. Better than his condom-covered one- always has been. Tell me how you really feel, Zak. Honestly. Shove the guilt aside for ten seconds and just say it.”
She dips the spoon back into the yogurt, scoops a little too much this time. Lets it drip off the edge on purpose. A slow white trail slides down between her tits, disappearing under the open buttons of her blouse.
Her eyes never leave his.
“Play your cards right,” she murmurs, “and I’ll call us both off sick for the day. Your dad leaves soon. I might even let you cum anywhere you want.”
She doesn’t wipe the yogurt away. Just watches him, waiting, while the sticky line cools against her skin.
Glen walks in, coffee mug already grabbed from the counter. Pours himself a black one, takes a quick swig standing there, then drops into his chair at the head of the table.
“Morning,” he grunts, eyes bouncing between them. “You two look like you’re plotting something. What’s the plan ?”
Kate doesn’t skip a beat. Spoon back in her yogurt, casual smile for him.
“Just Zak griping about college,” she says. “Professor’s already dumping assignments. Kid’s stressed.”
Glen nods, blows on his coffee. “Yeah, they love piling it on. You’ll live, Zak.” He checks his phone quick, sighs. “Traffic’s gonna be hell. And guess what-boss wants me to stay late again. Some bullshit meeting that could’ve been an email. Probably won’t be home till eight or nine.”
He gulps half the mug, stands up. “Love you, babe. Don’t wait up if I’m running behind.”
“Love you too,” Kate calls after him, voice sweet. “Drive careful.”
Kate keeps her eyes on Zak the whole time, slow and steady. She dips a finger between her tits, scoops up the last bit of yogurt clinging there, brings it to her lips and licks it off clean- slow swipe of her tongue, no rush. Doesn’t break eye contact once.
She reaches for her phone on the table, thumbs through contacts quick, hits call. Puts it on speaker so he can hear.
It rings twice.
“Hi, Sarah? Yeah, it’s Kate. Look, I’m feeling awful this morning—stomach’s killing me, head’s pounding. Think I’m coming down with something. Yeah, I’ll rest up and see how I feel tomorrow. Thanks, hon. Talk soon.”
She hangs up, sets the phone face down. Leans back in her chair, arms crossed loose under her chest.
“You know how I feel,” she says, voice low, almost soft. “I can easily call your college too. One quick word to the office—‘Zak’s sick, won’t be in today.’ Done.”
She raises one eyebrow, teasingly.
Not five minutes later Kate’s arse is parked right on the edge of the kitchen chair, skirt shoved up around her hips and panties pulled aside, legs hooked wide over Zak’s shoulders. He’s on his knees, face smashed between her thighs, mouth locked on her pussy like he’s trying to drown in it. Tongue plunging deep, then dragging back up to suck her clit hard enough to make her hips buck. She’s soaked-juicy, swollen, dripping down his chin, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet kitchen.
Kate’s got one fist knotted in his hair, yanking his head tighter against her gash, grinding slow circles on his tongue. The other hand clamps the phone to her ear. She’s fighting to keep her voice steady, but every other word cracks.
“Westfield Community College, Marcy speaking.”
Kate sucks in a sharp breath as Zak’s teeth graze her clit, then soothes it with a long, flat lick. “Hey Marcy… it’s Kate Harrison. Zak’s mum. He’s… fuck… he’s really sick today.”
Zak growls low into her cunt at the lie, the rumble shooting straight through her. She yanks his hair harder, forces him deeper, thighs clamping his ears.
Marcy sounds concerned. “Oh dear. What’s wrong with him?”
Kate’s yelps when Zak’s fingers shove in, two, then three-curling rough against that spot that makes her see white. “Stomach… fever… he’s been throwing up all night. Can’t come in today.”
Zak’s tongue flicks faster, relentless, sucking her clit like he’s mad at it. Her legs shake, toes curling against his back.
Marcy taps keys. “Okay, I’ve marked him absent. Doctor’s note needed?”
“No,” Kate gasps, voice pitching high when he adds a fourth finger, stretching her. “He’ll… he’ll be back tomorrow. Thanks, Marcy.”
“Feel better soon. Bye.”
Kate stabs end call, phone flies across the table with a clatter. Both hands slam into Zak’s hair now, yanking him so hard his nose buries in her folds.
“Don’t you fucking stop,” she snarls, hips snapping forward, riding his face hard. “Eat it-suck my clit-fuck yes-deeper-”
Her nails scrape his scalp raw, yanking him tighter. Voice cracks higher. “I’m cumming! oh god I’m cumming!”
First wave hits like a freight train. Her back bows off the chair, legs lock rigid around his ears. “I’m cumming…I’m cumming!!fuck yes!”
Her pussy clamps down on his fingers like a fist, pulsing hard. Hot girl cum floods his mouth, coats his tongue, runs down his chin in thick streams. She’s trembling, hips bucking, riding his face through it.
But he keeps going-sucking harder, fingers slamming faster.
Another wave crashes right on the heels of the first. “I’m cumming again…shit Zak again-fuck!”
She screams this time,, loud enough the windows almost rattle. Body seizes, thighs crush his head so tight he can’t breathe. Pussy spasms violently, gushing more, soaking his face, dripping onto the floor in messy puddles.
She’s moaning nonstop now! high, desperate, wordless sounds mixing with choked curses. Girl cum keeps flowing, coating his lips, chin, neck- messy, hot, and everywhere.
Finally she shoves at his head, oversensitive, legs falling open limp. Collapses back on the chair, chest heaving, body twitching with aftershocks. Pussy still pulsing, shiny and swollen in the sunlight.
Kate looks down at him- face drenched, lips swollen, dripping with her and drags a trembling finger across his cheek, scoops some up, sucks it off slow.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she pants, “You made me come so hard I almost blacked out for a second.”
Kate’s still sprawled on the chair, chest heaving, trying to drag air into her lungs after coming so hard her vision went white. Legs limp, pussy still twitching, skirt a wrinkled mess around her waist. She’s dazed, lips parted, eyes half-lidded watching Zak stand up.
He wipes his dripping chin, eyes locked on her tits under the silk blouse. Something flips in him. No more hesitation. Hands grab the front of the blouse and rips hard.
Buttons explode off like shrapnel, pinging across the counters, rolling on the tile. Kate gasps sharp, startled, eyes snapping wide.
“Zak!”
He doesn’t let her finish. Fingers hook the front of her bra and tear it open with one vicious yank. Lace rips down the middle. Heavy, soft, matronly tits spill out, tumbling free, full and pale, nipples stiff in the cool air, bouncing against her ribs with her ragged breathing.
Kate’s breath catches again, half shock, half fresh heat flooding her face. She stares down at herself exposed, then up at him.
“Here’s the boy Lucie’s been waiting for,” she says, a filthy little smile curling her lips.
Zak snatches Kate’s wrist in a bruising grip, yanking her off the chair so fast her feet slap the tile. Her tits bounce heavy, nipples stiff, pussy still dripping from his tongue and her own cum. She stumbles into him, slick thighs rubbing together, and he shoves her toward the stairs without a word.
They charge up, two steps at a time, panting like animals. Her hand claws at his shirt, ripping it over his head mid-stride-he lets it fall, doesn’t give a fuck where it lands. She shrugs the shredded remains of her blouse off; it flutters down behind them like dirty laundry. He hooks fingers into her panties, drags them down her arse as they climb. She kicks them off halfway up-black lace snags on the banister and hangs there.
His jeans are already undone. She shoves them lower, palms sliding over his bare bum, nails biting skin. He kicks the denim free on the next step.pants tumble backward, belt buckle clanging. Boxers follow; he shoves them down, cock slapping up hard against his stomach, leaking precum in thick strings.
They hit the landing naked, sweat-slick skin slapping skin, bodies crashing into the wall. Her back thumps plaster. He pins her there, one hand grabbing a fistful of tit, squeezing so hard she gasps. The other dives between her legs, fingers sliding through her soaked folds, curling inside her dripping cunt. She moans loud, legs spreading wider, hips grinding down on his hand.
Kate now her son against the other wall on the landing so hard the picture frame rattles and tilts sideways. Plaster dust drifts down. She pins him there with her body.
Zak’s fingers plunge straight into her dripping cunt, three thick ones, no warning, curling hard against that spongy spot while his thumb mashes her swollen clit in rough circles.
She moans loud into his mouth the second their lips crash. Tongues tangle sloppy and wet, teeth scraping, spit sliding down chins. She tastes her own pussy on him from downstairs- still warm and it makes her grind harder on his hand, hips rolling like she’s trying to fuck his fingers raw.
Kate reaches down, wraps her fist around his fat cock. It’s rock-hard, veins bulging, head slick with precum that strings between her fingers when she strokes. She pumps him hard—fast, tight strokes from base to leaking tip, twisting at the crown every time she reaches it. His dick throbs in her grip, leaking more, balls drawing up tight against her wrist.
They’re both groaning into each other’s mouths now, sounds that bounce off the wall. His hips jerk forward, fucking her fist while his fingers slam deeper, scissoring wide, stretching her open till her pussy squelches loud. She’s dripping down his wrist, slick running down her inner thighs, soaking into the carpet.
Zak breaks the kiss with a wet smack, spit stringing between their lips. His fingers are still knuckle-deep in her cunt, slowly pumping, thumb dragging lazy circles over her clit just to keep her twitching. He stares at her eyes “Bedroom. Now.”
He yanks his hand free, the slick pop loud in the hallway. Kate whimpers at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already grabbing her wrist again, dragging her toward his parents bedroom. Her bare feet follow, tits bouncing with every hurried step, nipples hard as pebbles. She can feel her own juice dripping down her inner thighs, leaving sticky trails.
They’re almost at at door when Kate plants her feet, twists her wrist free, and grabs his cock instead. She squeezes hard-base to tip- making him hiss through his teeth.
“Not ours” she pants, voice filthy. “Yours first.”
She steers him sideways, nails digging into his shaft like a leash. He stumbles, cock throbbing in her grip, but lets her pull him across the hall to his own room. The door’s half-open, half open curtains spill weak yellow light over rumpled sheets, posters on the wall, the faint smell of his laundry and teenage sweat.
Kate kicks the door shut behind them. It bangs loud.
Kate marches straight to Zak’s bed, grabs the duvet in both fists and yanks it off like it’s personally offended her. Sheets, blankets, everything hits the floor in a crumpled heap. She hops on naked, lands on her back with a bounce, then spreads her legs wide- knees bent, feet planted on the mattress, pussy still swollen and glistening, lips parted, clit peeking out, a slow trickle of her own cum leaking toward her arse.
She looks up at him, eyes dark and hungry, chest rising fast.
“Come here,”
One hand trails down her stomach, fingers parting her folds so he can see everything pink, wet, ready. She dips two fingers inside herself, pulls them out slick, rubs slow circles over her clit while she watches him stand there, cock throbbing, still shiny from her mouth and hand.
“Don’t make me wait,” she adds, hips lifting a little off the bed. “I want that cock back in me. Deep. Now.”
The room smells like him- laundry, old socks, teenage boy-but now it’s mixing with her, the sharp musk of sex clinging to the air.
Zak stands frozen a second, staring at her spread out on his own bed, the same spot where he’s jerked off.
She spreads wider, feet sliding further apart, pussy winking at him with every pulse.
“Get over here and fuck your mum,” she says, voice dropping even lower. “Right here. Make this bed stink of us.”
He finally moves- steps forward, climbs on, knees sinking into the mattress. Grabs her thighs, pulls her closer, lines up and slams in raw- one hard thrust that buries him balls-deep.
She moans loud, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders.
“Harder,” she gasps. “Pound me. Make me scream in your room.”
His big teenage cock plunges into her warm, tight pussy over and over, a blur of motion, skin slapping skin so loud it echoes off the posters on his wall. The bed groans under them, springs squealing with every brutal thrust.
“Fuck,…
