The faint click of my bedroom door always came at the same time—around 1:17 a.m., when the house was dead quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioner. For weeks I'd noticed it: the sliver of hallway light widening, then narrowing again as my stepmom, Elena, slipped inside just far enough to watch.
She never spoke. Never touched. She just stood there in her thin silk robe, breathing a little too carefully while I stroked myself under the covers. I'd started leaving the blanket low on purpose, letting her catch glimpses of my fist sliding up and down the thick shaft I knew she couldn't stop staring at. Eight inches, maybe more when I was really worked up, and fat enough that my fingers didn't quite meet around the base. I'd catch the softest hitch in her breath every time the head swelled and leaked a clear bead of precum.
Tonight I decided to stop pretending I didn't know she was there.
I kicked the blanket all the way off before I even started. My cock lay heavy against my stomach, already half-hard from anticipation. I slicked my palm with spit, wrapped it around the base, and gave one long, deliberate stroke—root to tip—letting the foreskin peel back slowly so the glistening head caught the dim glow from my phone screen. I kept my eyes closed, breathing deep and even, like I was already drifting off mid-stroke.
The door clicked.
She didn't move for a long minute. I could feel her eyes on me, tracing the thick vein that ran along the underside, the way my balls hung low and full. Then came the tiniest shuffle of bare feet on carpet. Closer. Closer.
A soft exhale—almost a whimper—when she saw how much precum had already dribbled down the shaft.
Then, the quietest tap-tap-tap of fingernails on a phone screen.
My heart slammed against my ribs. She was calling someone.
I cracked one eye just enough to see the blue glow light up her face. She angled the camera down, framing my cock perfectly in the shot. The little video icon blinked red. Recording.
"Jesus, Lisa," Elena whispered, voice shaking with excitement. "Look at this thing. I told you it was big, but… fuck. Look how thick it is."
A woman's voice came through the speaker—husky, amused, unmistakably my aunt Lisa. "Holy shit, Elena. That's obscene. Is he really asleep?"
"Completely out," Elena lied, her free hand unconsciously drifting to her chest, pressing the silk against her hardened nipples. "He's been jerking off like this every night. I just… I had to show you."
Lisa laughed low. "You're dripping just watching him, aren't you?"
Elena bit her lip. "Shut up."
"I dare you," Lisa said suddenly, voice dropping to a velvet purr. "Go on. Put your mouth on it. Just once. See if it's as heavy as it looks."
Elena's breath caught audibly. "Lisa—"
"One suck," Lisa coaxed. "I'll never tell. Come on, big sister. You've been staring at it for weeks. Taste what your stepson's been hiding."
I felt Elena's shadow fall over me. Her robe whispered against her thighs as she knelt beside the bed. The mattress dipped slightly when she braced one hand near my hip.
Her face hovered inches above my cock. I could smell her shampoo—vanilla and something darker, aroused. Her breath ghosted over the sensitive head, making it twitch and leak another fat pearl of precum.
She hesitated.
Then her lips parted.
The first touch was just a tentative kiss—soft, warm, barely there—right on the slit. I tasted salt in the back of my throat as I fought not to groan. She pulled back, lips shining, then leaned in again. This time she opened wider, letting the swollen head slide past her lips and settle on her tongue.
Heat. Wet heat. Velvet pressure.
She moaned around me—quiet, involuntary—and the vibration shot straight to my balls.
I couldn't stay still anymore.
A low, broken sound slipped out of me.
Elena froze, my cock still filling her mouth. For a second I thought she'd bolt.
Instead she hollowed her cheeks and sucked—slow, deliberate, drawing more precum onto her tongue like she was savoring it. Her tongue swirled under the ridge, flicking the frenulum, coaxing another bead out.
I moaned again, louder. My hips lifted just a fraction, pushing deeper.
She didn't pull off. She just took more, lips stretching wide around the girth, saliva slicking down the shaft. The wet, obscene suck-suck-suck sounds filled the room.
On the phone, Lisa whispered, "That's it. Suck your stepson's fat cock. Make him cum in your mouth."
Elena whimpered, bobbing faster, one hand wrapping around the base to stroke what wouldn't fit. Her other hand slipped between her own thighs; I heard the slick sounds of her fingers working her clit.
I was close—dangerously close.
My balls drew up tight. The pressure built in a hot, coiling rush.
I groaned her name—"Elena"—and came hard, thick ropes splashing against the back of her throat.
She swallowed greedily, milking every pulse with her mouth and hand until I was spent, twitching, oversensitive.
Only then did she pull off with a wet pop, lips swollen, chin shiny.
Lisa's voice crackled through the speaker. "Good girl. Now clean him up and come tell me every detail."
Elena ended the call with shaking fingers. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, staring at my softening cock like she couldn't believe what she'd done.
Then she slipped out without a word.
The next morning my phone buzzed with a text from Aunt Lisa.
On my way. Need to see that monster in person.
She arrived just after lunch, wearing a sundress that hugged her curves and heels that clicked assertively across the hardwood. Elena was out grocery shopping—perfect timing.
Lisa didn't bother with small talk. She pushed me back onto my bed, hiked her dress, and straddled my thighs.
"I watched your stepmom choke on this last night," she murmured, wrapping manicured fingers around my already hardening cock. "Now it's my turn."
She stroked me firmly, thumb circling the head, spreading the fresh leak of precum. Then she bent and took me in one long, slow glide—deeper than Elena had managed, throat relaxing to swallow half my length.
I groaned, hands fisting the sheets.
She hummed approval, the vibration ripping through me. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside, dragging on every upstroke. Saliva dripped down my balls; she cupped them, rolling gently while she bobbed.
The wet, sloppy sounds were louder than last night—obscene, deliberate.
I was close again, too fast.
"Lisa—fuck—I'm gonna—"
She pulled off just enough to speak against the head. "Cum in my mouth. I want to taste you."
I did—harder than I had with Elena. Thick spurts coated her tongue, filled her cheeks. She swallowed every drop, milking me with gentle suction until I was shuddering, empty.
Right then, a soft knock.
"Sweetie? Can we talk?" Elena's voice, hesitant.
Lisa's eyes met mine. She deliberately swallowed one last time—loud enough to be heard—then wiped her lips with a wicked smile.
I called back, voice wrecked. "Yeah… come in."
Elena opened the door, saw Lisa sitting on the edge of my bed, dress still hiked, my cock still glistening between my thighs.
Silence stretched.
Then Elena closed the door behind her.
No yelling. No tears.
Just a long, considering look between the two sisters.
Lisa spoke first. "He's got plenty for both of us."
Elena exhaled, cheeks flushing. "I… I don't want to fight over him."
Lisa reached out, tugged Elena closer by the wrist. "Then we won't."
Elena sank to her knees beside the bed. Lisa guided her hand to my still-sensitive cock.
They looked up at me—both of them—eyes dark with the same hunger.
And I knew nothing would ever be the same.