It wasn't my fault that my dad married Elena. She was a complete whore in the best possible way—a siren who turned our mundane home into a den of simmering lust. What was I supposed to do? Not fuck her? The idea was laughable. Have you seen this bitch? She's so fucking hot it's distracting, a constant assault on my senses that left me hard and aching more often than not. I mean, look at her: long, raven hair cascading down her back like silk, green eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a body sculpted for sin. Full, D-cup tits that begged to be squeezed, nipples that poked through her shirts like invitations. Her ass was a masterpiece—round, firm, and juicy, the kind that jiggled just right when she walked. And her pussy? Well, I hadn't seen it yet, but I could imagine it: shaved smooth, lips plump and glistening, ready to swallow me whole. She was the definition of a cumslut, a cock expert who lived to get fucked, and I was going to give her exactly what she craved.
The tension built slowly, like a fire kindled with the smallest sparks. It started the day I arrived home from college. The house was quiet, my dad away on a business trip, leaving just me and Elena. I dropped my bags in the foyer and followed the sound of scrubbing to the kitchen. There she was, on all fours, cleaning the floor with a sponge. Her massive tits hung low, swaying pendulously with each vigorous scrub, the thin white tank top soaked through from the water, clinging transparently to her skin. I could see the dark areolas crowning her nipples, hardened into tight peaks that strained against the fabric. Her juicy ass stood at attention, encased in tiny denim shorts that rode up her crack, exposing the creamy undersides of her cheeks. The air was thick with the scent of lemon cleaner mixed with her natural musk—a heady, feminine aroma that made my mouth water and my cock stir in my pants. She was making me stand at attention too, my shaft thickening, pressing insistently against my zipper as I watched her hips sway rhythmically, like she was fucking the floor.
I cleared my throat, trying to play it cool. "Hey, Elena. Need any help?"
She looked over her shoulder, her lips parting in a sultry smile that sent a jolt straight to my groin. "Oh, Jake! I didn't hear you come in." She sat back on her heels, her tits bouncing as she did, the wet fabric making a soft, squelching sound against her skin. Droplets of water trailed down her cleavage, disappearing into the valley between her breasts. I imagined following that path with my tongue, tasting the salt of her sweat mingled with the citrus cleaner. "Sure, if you don't mind getting a little dirty."
Her words hung in the air, loaded with double meaning. I knelt beside her, grabbing a rag, our arms brushing as we worked. Her skin was warm, soft, electric against mine. Every time she leaned forward, her ass brushed my thigh, the firm globes pressing briefly, teasingly. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the faint arousal beneath the cleaning products—a musky sweetness that made my balls tighten. My cock was fully hard now, throbbing with each heartbeat, the head leaking pre-cum that soaked into my boxers. I shifted, trying to hide it, but she glanced down, her eyes widening slightly before she bit her lip, a flush creeping up her neck.
Days turned into a torturous game of cat and mouse. Mornings, she'd pad into the kitchen in a silk robe that barely contained her curves, the belt loosely tied so it gaped open at the front. I'd catch glimpses of her bare tits, the rosy nipples peeking out as she reached for the coffee pot. The fabric whispered against her skin with each movement, a soft susurrus that made my ears burn. She'd bend to get milk from the fridge, her ass thrusting back, the robe riding up to reveal she wore nothing underneath—no panties, just the smooth, tanned expanse of her thighs leading to the shadow between her legs. I could almost taste her, imagine burying my face there, inhaling her scent deeply as my tongue delved into her folds.
One evening, after my dad had called to say he'd be late, we shared a bottle of wine on the couch. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering TV, casting shadows that danced over her body. She curled her legs under her, the short dress hiking up to mid-thigh, exposing miles of silky skin. As we talked—innocent chit-chat about my classes, her yoga routine—her foot brushed my calf, sending sparks up my leg. She didn't pull away; instead, she trailed her toes higher, the light pressure making my skin tingle. The wine warmed my blood, loosening my inhibitions, and I felt my cock swell again, tenting my sweats obviously. Her eyes dropped to my lap, lingering, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "You seem... tense, Jake," she murmured, her voice low and throaty, vibrating through me like a caress.
I swallowed hard, the taste of merlot lingering on my tongue. "Yeah, well... it's been a long day."
She shifted closer, her breast pressing against my arm, the soft, yielding flesh molding to me. I could feel her nipple harden through the thin dress, a firm nub that begged to be pinched. Her hand rested on my thigh, fingers inching upward, nails lightly scraping the fabric. The sensation was exquisite torture, each drag sending shivers to my core. My cock jerked, pre-cum beading at the tip, and I fought the urge to grab her, to flip her over and plunge into her right there. Instead, I let the tension build, savoring the way her breath quickened, her chest heaving, tits rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm.
The next morning, I couldn't take it anymore. I found her in the laundry room, folding clothes—my clothes, including a pair of boxers stained with my cum from jerking off to thoughts of her the night before. She held them up, sniffing them subtly, her eyes closing as if savoring the scent. That broke me. I stepped behind her, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her ass back against my raging erection. She gasped, a soft, needy sound that made my balls ache. "Jake... what are you—"
"Shut up," I growled, my voice rough with desire. I ground against her, feeling the heat of her pussy through our clothes, her juices already soaking through her panties—I could smell it, that tangy, aroused perfume. My hands slid up, cupping her massive tits, squeezing the heavy globes, thumbs circling her nipples until they were diamond-hard. She moaned, arching into me, her ass wiggling against my cock, the friction delicious.
I spun her around, pinning her against the dryer. Her lips were parted, breath coming in pants, and I claimed them in a bruising kiss. Our tongues tangled, wet and hot, tasting of toothpaste and lust. My hands roamed, yanking down her top to expose her breasts. They spilled out, perfect and full, nipples erect and begging. I latched onto one, sucking hard, teeth grazing the sensitive bud. She cried out, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. The taste of her skin—salty, sweet—filled my mouth as I lavished attention on her tits, kneading them, pinching until she whimpered.
My cock was painfully hard, straining for release. I dropped to my knees, hiking up her skirt, tearing her panties aside. Her pussy was glorious—pink, swollen lips dripping with arousal, clit peeking out like a pearl. I inhaled deeply, her scent intoxicating, then dove in. My tongue flattened against her slit, lapping up her juices, the flavor exploding on my taste buds—musky, tangy, addictive. She bucked against my face, hands gripping the dryer as I sucked her clit, flicking it with my tongue, fingers plunging into her tight heat. She was soaked, walls clenching around me, gushing more wetness that dripped down my chin.
"Oh god, Jake... fuck me," she begged, voice hoarse.
I stood, freeing my cock—thick, veined, head purple and slick with pre-cum. I rubbed it against her entrance, teasing, feeling her heat envelop the tip. Then, with a thrust, I buried myself inside her. She was tight, velvet walls gripping me like a vice, milking every inch. I pounded into her, the slap of skin on skin echoing, her tits bouncing wildly. Sweat slicked our bodies, the air thick with the scent of sex. I grabbed her ass, squeezing the firm cheeks, fingers dipping into her crack to tease her puckered hole.
She came first, screaming my name, pussy spasming around me, juices squirting onto my thighs. The sensation pushed me over— I pulled out, stroking furiously, ropes of hot cum painting her pretty face, dripping down her chin onto her tits. She licked her lips, tasting me, eyes locked on mine with pure, slutty satisfaction.
But that was just the beginning. Over the weeks, our encounters escalated. In the shower, water cascading over us, I'd fuck her from behind, hands soapy on her tits, cock sliding deep as steam filled the air. In the kitchen, she'd drop to her knees, sucking me off with expert skill—tongue swirling around the head, throat taking me deep until I exploded down her gullet. Nights when my dad was home, we'd sneak touches—her foot under the table stroking my cock, my hand slipping under her dress to finger her soaked pussy while we pretended to watch TV.
One particularly heated session, I tied her to the bed with silk scarves, her body spread out like a feast. I teased her for hours, lips and fingers exploring every inch—nibbling her earlobes, sucking her toes, vibrating a toy against her clit until she begged for mercy. When I finally entered her, it was slow, torturous, each inch drawing out moans that vibrated through her chest. I fucked her ass too, lubed and careful at first, then hard, her screams muffled by the pillow as I filled her with cum.
Elena's appetite was insatiable. She'd wake me with blowjobs, her mouth hot and wet around my morning wood, swallowing every drop. We'd role-play—her as the naughty maid, me as the demanding stepson—ending in cum-drenched ecstasy. Sensory details overwhelmed: the sticky feel of cum on skin, the salty taste on tongues, the wet sounds of bodies colliding, the heady mix of scents—sweat, arousal, release.
Through it all, the slow burn never faded; it only intensified, each fuck building on the last. She was my cumslut, my addiction, and I hers. If she thought she could tease without consequences, she learned otherwise—my cock, all over her, in her, owning her completely.