I couldn't stand the way Emily acted around my stepson, Jake. She was all sugary smiles and modest blushes, the perfect "good girl" on the surface—long auburn hair always tied back neatly, dresses that skimmed her knees, and this infuriating habit of batting her lashes while pretending she was too pure for anything fun. Jake deserved better. At 22, he was built like a god—tall, broad-shouldered, with those piercing blue eyes and a jawline that could cut glass. I'd caught glimpses of the bulge in his jeans more times than I cared to admit, and I knew he was packing something thick and heavy that needed proper attention.
Emily, though? She kept turning him down. I'd overheard them arguing in his room late at night—her prim little voice saying, "No, Jake, that's too dirty," when he begged her to suck him off. Blue balls for my poor boy? Not on my watch. If his girlfriend wouldn't take care of him, I'd step in. Literally.
It started innocently enough—or as innocent as these things can be. One evening, after Emily had left in a huff, Jake slumped on the couch in the living room, looking frustrated as hell. I was in my usual lounge wear: a thin silk robe that hugged my curves, barely tied at the waist, revealing the swell of my full breasts and the smooth expanse of my thighs. At 42, I knew I still turned heads—plump ass, toned legs from yoga, and a pussy that stayed shaved and eager.
I sat next to him, close enough that my thigh brushed his. "Rough night with Emily again?" I asked, my voice low and soothing.
He sighed, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, Mom. She's just... not into it."
I placed my hand on his knee, feeling the heat through his jeans. "A man like you needs release, sweetheart. It's not healthy to hold it in."
His eyes flicked to mine, surprised, but there was a spark there—hunger. I let my robe slip open a fraction, exposing the lace edge of my bra. Slowly, deliberately, I guided his hand up my thigh, under the hem of my robe. His fingers trembled as they brushed the soft skin there, inching higher until he reached the damp heat between my legs. No panties—of course.
"Feel that?" I whispered, parting my legs just enough. "That's what a real woman feels like when she's turned on."
He gasped, his fingers sliding along my slick folds. I was already wet, aching from the taboo thrill of it. He explored tentatively at first, tracing the swollen lips of my pussy, then dipping one finger inside. The sensation was electric—his rough fingertip parting my tight walls, coated in my creamy arousal. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, the scent of my musk filling the air between us.
"Deeper, baby," I encouraged, rocking my hips subtly. He obliged, adding a second finger, stretching me deliciously. The wet sounds of his pumping grew louder, squelching as he curled them to hit that sensitive spot inside. My clit throbbed, begging for attention, but I held back, savoring the slow build. His breathing quickened, matching mine, the room thick with tension.
When I came, it was a slow, rolling wave—my pussy clenching around his fingers, juices gushing out to soak his hand. I shuddered, gripping his wrist to hold him there as the aftershocks pulsed through me.
Pulling his fingers free, glistening with my cum, I brought them to my lips. Our eyes locked as I licked them clean, tongue swirling around each digit, tasting my own tangy sweetness mixed with the salt of his skin. "No evidence," I murmured with a wicked smile, sucking the last drop off his thumb.
He stared, cock straining visibly against his jeans, but we didn't go further that night. The seed was planted, though—the erotic tension simmering like a pot about to boil over.
A few days later, the three of us went shopping at the mall. Emily tagged along, all prim in her sundress, clinging to Jake's arm like a possessive kitten. But I saw the way he shifted uncomfortably, that telltale bulge growing whenever I bent over to pick something up—my tight jeans hugging my ass, or my low-cut top giving him a peek at my cleavage.
In a boutique clothing store, Jake excused himself to the fitting rooms, muttering about needing to try on shirts. Emily was distracted browsing racks, so I followed him. The hallway to the fitting rooms was semi-private, mirrors everywhere reflecting our forbidden intent.
He was in a stall, door cracked open. I slipped inside, locking it behind me. The space was cramped, our bodies pressed close. His eyes widened, but his cock was already tenting his pants.
"Can't hide that from me, honey," I purred, dropping to my knees on the soft carpet. The air smelled of new fabric and his musky arousal. My hands trembled with anticipation as I unzipped him slowly, savoring the zipper's rasp.
His cock sprang free—God, it was magnificent. Thick as my wrist, veined and throbbing, the fat head already leaking precum that glistened like dew. At least 9 inches, curving slightly upward, balls heavy and full below. I inhaled his scent—clean skin with that intoxicating male tang—and my mouth watered.
I started slow, teasing the tip with my tongue, lapping up the salty bead of precum. He groaned softly, hand tangling in my hair. I swirled around the ridge, feeling it twitch against my lips, then took him deeper inch by inch. The stretch of my jaw was delicious pain, his girth filling my mouth completely. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking with wet, obscene slurps, saliva dripping down his shaft to coat his balls.
His hips bucked gently as I bobbed, tongue pressing along the underside, tracing every vein. The sensory overload was intense—the heat of him pulsing on my tongue, the way his precum mixed with my spit to create slippery strands connecting us when I pulled back. I cupped his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten as he neared the edge.
"Fuck, Mom... your mouth is so hot," he whispered, voice strained.
I hummed around him, vibrations making him shudder. Just as I deepthroated him—nose buried in his trimmed pubes, throat convulsing around his fat cock—the door rattled.
"What the hell?!" Emily's voice, shocked and furious.
She'd caught us—me on my knees, lips stretched wide around her boyfriend's dick, strings of saliva bridging from my chin to his glistening shaft.
The fight exploded in the parking lot. Emily screamed at Jake, tears streaming, calling him a cheater. He looked guilty but defiant, that post-blowjob glow still on his face—lips swollen from my sucking, cock probably still half-hard in his jeans.
I couldn't let this tear apart my family. As they argued, I stepped in, pulling Emily aside while Jake watched warily.
"Listen, sweetheart," I said calmly, my voice laced with authority. "If you want to be part of this family—really part of it—you need to understand something. Jake has needs. Big ones. And if you're not willing to meet them..." I paused, letting my eyes roam over her body—those perky C-cup tits straining her dress, slim waist, and the hint of her ass curving out. Smoking hot, really. "...then you'll have to share."
She blinked, anger fading into confusion. "Share? You mean... with you?"
I nodded, stepping closer, the air between us crackling. "Exactly. His cock is too perfect to waste on arguments. Let me show you how it's done."
To my shock, she didn't slap me. Her cheeks flushed, nipples hardening visibly under her thin dress. "I... I've always wondered what it would be like," she admitted softly, glancing at Jake's bulge.
The tension shifted—erotic, charged. We ended up in a secluded corner of the mall's outdoor park area, benches hidden by foliage. Public enough for the thrill, private enough to indulge.
I started with Emily, pulling her close. My hands roamed her body—squeezing her firm tits through the fabric, thumbs circling her stiff nipples until she whimpered. Her skin was silky soft, tasting faintly of vanilla lotion as I kissed her neck, nipping the pulse point.
Jake watched, stroking himself free again, that massive cock throbbing in his fist.
I stripped Emily slowly, peeling off her dress to reveal lacy panties already soaked. Her pussy was shaved bare, pink lips puffy and glistening. I knelt, inhaling her sweet, aroused scent—lighter than mine, more floral. My tongue flicked her clit, slow circles building tension as she gasped, fingers in my hair.
"See how wet she gets?" I murmured to Jake. "Now come here."
He approached, cock bobbing. I guided him to Emily's mouth first—she hesitated, then parted her lips, taking him in with a tentative suck. Her inexperience showed, but the sight was filthy hot—her modest face stretched around his girth, drool spilling as she learned.
I played with her body while she blew him: fingers plunging into her tight, dripping cunt, three at once stretching her with wet squelches. She moaned around his dick, vibrations making him groan.
Then the threesome ignited. Jake fucked me from behind first—his fat cock slamming into my soaked pussy, balls slapping my clit with each thrust. The public risk heightened everything: distant voices, breeze on our sweat-slick skin. Emily watched, fingering herself, then I pulled her under me for a 69 while Jake pounded me.
Her tongue lapped my clit as his cock pistoned in and out, juices dripping onto her face. I devoured her pussy in return, sucking her swollen folds, tongue-fucking her hole until she squirted—a gush of sweet fluid coating my chin.
We switched: Jake in Emily now, her legs wrapped around him as he stretched her wide, her cries muffled by my pussy grinding on her face. I rode her tongue hard, clit throbbing against her eager mouth.
Finally, we came together—Jake pulling out to paint our faces and tits with thick ropes of hot cum, the scent musky and potent. Emily and I kissed, swapping his load, tongues tangling in creamy mess.
Panting, bodies entwined on the bench, we knew this was just the beginning. All it took was sharing his beautiful cock to make us a real family.