u/VelvetyCaptain

I was nineteen and in college, still living with my dad and my stepmom, Abella, who’d baked every birthday cake since I turned eleven. We were close, and I’d had fantasies about her I didn’t want to admit.

When I reached the door, I stood there on the doormat, listening. That’s because I heard Abella’s voice, which, even through the wall, was easy to recognize since it was so sweet.

“…No, Josh hasn’t touched me since his big promotion. I swear, if I didn’t have my toys, I’d forget what an orgasm felt like.” Laughter, then the chair scraping against tile. “No, I’m not joking. Honestly? I miss getting creampied. Like, the actual mess, you know?”

My fingers froze around the doorknob. I wanted to believe I misheard her, but Abella didn’t really do euphemisms. She never had. My brain short-circuited. Was it a cooking thing? My birthday was next week. Maybe she was talking about baking. It had to be about baking.

Through the window, I saw her in the kitchen, wireless earbuds plugged in, hair loose and glossy. She was leaning over the island, scribbling notes on a pad and plucking grapes from a bowl, phone wedged between her cheek and shoulder. I caught a glimpse of cleavage, Abella’s signature weapon of mass distraction, half-hidden under a loose sweatshirt that read Flour Power.

If anyone had asked me what Abella looked like, I’d have lied and said she was average. Truth, she was objectively hot, and not in the Barbie-doll, high-maintenance sense. More in the way a pinup from the 1950s could outshine every runway model with a single look. She had this long, auburn hair that always looked like she’d just tumbled out of bed, blue eyes that flashed when she got excited, and a body that could convince anyone to eat gluten again. Her ass, enormous, round, a full moon on a good day, broke physics every time she squeezed into yoga pants. I’d spent most of my teenage years trying not to think about her boobs, but they always seemed to lead the way into any room.

I tried not to listen, but my feet kept me rooted to the spot.

Her voice dropped, a little confidential, “He’s barely even home. I mean, what’s the point of a home office if you’re never in it except to check your fantasy football league? I literally bought crotchless panties last month and he didn’t even notice.” A giggle. “No, you can’t borrow them! God, you’re such a perv. I love it. I’ll call you back after Ryan gets in, okay? Love you.”

Opening the door, I pretended I’d just gotten in and was in the process of kicking off my boots.

“Ryan!” she called, rounding the corner. For a second, she looked startled, then her whole face lit up. “Look at you, college man!”

I dropped my backpack on the floor and braced myself for a hug. She wrapped her arms around me and pressed her cheek into my chest, holding on a second longer than necessary. She smelled like vanilla extract and dryer sheets, which made me uncomfortably hard.

“Hi, Abella.”

“You hungry?”

I shrugged. “Always.”

She tugged me into the kitchen and motioned to a chair at the island. “Sit, I’ll fix you something.” She rummaged in the fridge, bent over so far that the hem of her sweats rode up her thighs and flashed a full view of ass. I averted my eyes, which was pointless, since the image was already tattooed on the inside of my eyelids. She straightened, closed the fridge with her hip, and set out the ingredients for a sandwich.

Abella always had this energy, like she wanted to fix the entire world with a plate of food and some well-timed sarcasm. It was impossible not to feel safe around her, even when she was in crisis mode.

Making a sandwich was like second nature for her, and all of a sudden, she slid it in front of me. “Here you go, hon.”

“Thanks.” I took a huge bite, tried not to moan at the taste, and watched her slice an apple for herself. The silence grew. I could tell she was thinking about what to say next, but couldn’t quite land it.

“So,” I said, mouth still half-full, “how’s Dad?”

She snorted. “Same as always. Married to his job. But he loves us in his own way.” She smiled, but her eyes looked tired. “He’s working late tonight, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

I was, sort of. I was also replaying her phone call in my head, over and over, like a video on loop. Miss getting creampied. I mean, she had to be talking about dessert, right? But if that were true, why did she sound so sad?

I polished off my sandwich in record time.

“Want anything else?” she asked, twirling a strand of auburn hair around her finger.

“I’m good for now.” I suddenly got an idea. I wanted to stop by the bakery and pick up a cream pie for her. Abella had always been so sweet to me, and if she really wanted one, I’d happily get it for her. We chatted a little longer, and I excused myself, saying I was going out for a walk. She told me she’d do some yoga in the meantime, gosh, what a sexy woman.

*****

I hurried to the bakery, and the kid behind the counter gave me a side-eye when I ordered the biggest banana cream pie they had.

When I got home, Abella was still in her yoga pants, a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Hey,” I said, holding up the white bakery box. “I got you something.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh? What is it?”

“I stopped by the bakery and picked up a cream pie.”

She laughed softly. “That sounds amazing. You got enough for both of us, right?”

“Of course,” I said. “We can eat it together.”

She got two plates and a can of whipped cream from the fridge. “Lunch of champions,” she said, slicing the pie. We settled down, and I took a bite. The filling was cold, sweet and almost obscene in its richness. “Mmm,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That’s actually insane. It’s so good.”

“It was really sweet of you,” she said, looking me in the eyes.

“You’re welcome,” I told her.

Abella licked her fork and watched me eat. “I like it when you’re happy,” she said. “Makes this place feel less empty.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I just kept shoveling pie into my mouth, feeling stupidly grateful and a little guilty all at once.

When we were both stuffed, she set down her fork and stretched her arms overhead. The sports top bunched up, revealing a strip of her belly and the curve of her waist, and once she slumped down, her tits crashed down, jiggling till they found equilibrium.

“You’re the sweetest boy,” she said. “Why did you suddenly decide to get me a cream pie?”

“Oh,” I said, blushing a little. “I overheard you on the phone saying Dad never brings one home, so I figured I’d surprise you. After everything you’ve done for me, it felt like the least I could do.”

Her cheeks reddened, and she giggled. “But, uh, ” She hesitated, then smirked. “Do you even know what a creampie is?”

I looked down at the plate and then back at her. “Isn’t it a dessert?”

She laughed so loud she snorted. “God, I love you. Don’t ever change.”

“I’m feeling kinda dumb now … What’s the secret?”

She wiped a crumb from her lip, then leaned in to whisper, “It means finishing inside. Like, during sex. Not dessert.”

My face went nuclear. “Oh.” My voice cracked. “Well, that’s… huh.”

Abella grinned, blue eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry, you didn’t invent being a perv. Boys your age are always curious. And besides, ” she looked me over, head to toe, and for a split second I swore she was seeing through my shorts, “I’d be more worried if you didn’t think about sex at all.”

She squeezed my hand before getting up to rinse the dishes. Her fingers were warm, soft and a little sticky from the pie. I watched her walk away, watched the sway of her hips under those leggings, and I realized two things at once: One, my dad was an idiot for ignoring her. Two, I was completely, hopelessly fucked. And for some reason, that made me smile.

When she came back, she sat next to me again, keeping me company. She set her chin on her hand. “So,” she said, eyes bright and a little devious, “has my sweet boy learned any new vocabulary lately?”

“You mean, uh…”

Her smile widened. “Don’t play dumb. I think it’s adorable. When I was your age, I thought snowballing meant a winter food fight.” She nudged my knee under the table. “So, tell me, what do college girls actually like these days?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. It’s kind of overrated. Or I’m just bad at it.”

She pouted. “Impossible. You’re perfect.”

“Trust me,” I said, “I’m not.”

She leaned in, conspiratorial. “Have you ever… you know, creampied someone?”

I was not prepared for that. “Uh, no. Most girls make you use a condom, even if you’re, like, one hundred percent certain they’re on the pill. And the ones who don’t, well… I kind of, uh, make a mess.”

Abella’s lips parted. “A mess?”

I squirmed in my seat. “Like, too much. It freaks them out. One girl said she felt like she was in a dairy commercial. She wasn’t wrong.”

For a split second, I thought I’d grossed Abella out, but instead her eyes went big and hungry, the way she looked at cake samples at Costco. “That’s so hot,” she said. “I miss when Josh used to, never mind.” She caught herself, cheeks pink. “Sorry, too much information.”

I didn’t know what to do with my hands. “I mean. I wish I could make someone as happy as you seem to be about it.”

She looked up at me, dead serious. “You could.” We didn’t say anything for a long, weirdly electric moment. She played with my hair, tousling it, then drew her hand down to my chest, pressing flat over my heart.

“Josh is always working,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “He’s a great man, but sometimes I wish he’d remember I’m a woman, too. That I have needs.” She traced a line down my shirt, letting her nails drag just enough to make me breathe funny. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to hear this.”

“I don’t mind,” I said, and I meant it. “You deserve to be happy.”

She squeezed my arm. “You always know what to say.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the Abella who’d picked me up from soccer games and patched up my scraped knees, but also the Abella who’d confessed, on the phone, to needing so much more than Dad gave her.

For once, I let myself be honest. “If you were my girlfriend, I’d, um. I’d never leave you alone.”

She laughed. “Is that so?”

I nodded, feeling something huge shift inside me. “Yeah. I’d make you breakfast every morning. And pie. And… all the other stuff.”

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. “Ryan, if you keep talking like that, I’m going to do something really irresponsible.”

I waited.

She opened her eyes, blue as the sky outside, and smiled. “Come with me.”

We both rose to our feet, and she took my hand. She led me through the living room, past all the old family photos, and into the guest bedroom, which had a queen-sized bed.

She peeled off her tank top, slow, like she was teasing herself as much as me. No bra, just soft, heavy breasts with dusky nipples, the kind I’d fantasized about for years. Her hands went to her waistband and she slid the yoga pants down, revealing matching blue panties that looked painted onto her hips.

She stood there in the sunlight, gorgeous and a little shy, and for the first time, I realized she was trembling. “Your turn,” she said.

I stripped awkwardly, dropping my T-shirt and basketball shorts to the floor. My cock was already hard, throbbing against my boxers, and when I pulled them down, it sprang free, almost comically rigid.

Abella’s mouth curled into a smile. “God, your cock is nice.” She sounded proud, like she’d raised me herself. “Come here.”

It felt surreal, like a scene straight out of my sexual fantasy, but I was going to enjoy every second of it. I walked to her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me, her lips as smooth as a youth’s. She quickly deepened the kiss, tongue exploring mine, tasting the last of the pie from my lips. Her breasts pressed against my chest, soft and pillowy, and I couldn’t help myself from reaching down and cupping them, thumbs circling over her nipples. She moaned into my mouth, grinding her hips against me.

She broke the kiss and sank to her knees. Her hands wrapped around my shaft, stroking it slowly, base to tip, then back again. “Can I taste?” she asked.

I nodded, words gone.

She licked the tip, swirling her tongue in little circles, then sucked me into her mouth. She was gentle, her lips sliding down the length before pulling off with a wet pop. She stroked me with one hand while sucking the head, moaning like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. I nearly came right there, but she squeezed tight and looked up at me, eyes sparkling.

She came off with a pop, and she climbed onto the bed, sprawled out and glorious, then patted the mattress. I crawled up and hovered over her, every muscle on fire with need.

She hooked her fingers in her panties and dragged them down, exposing the pink, glistening sex between her legs. She was already soaked, her inner thighs slick and the scent dizzying.

I stared. “You’re so beautiful.”

She laughed. “You’re sweet. Now … are you gonna give me a creampie or stare at me all day?”

I lined up and pressed in slowly, feeling her stretch around me. She was tight, hot and her walls squeezed me so hard I could barely breathe. I bottomed out, buried to the hilt and Abella gasped.

“God, yes, just like that.” She wrapped her legs around my waist and rolled her hips, taking me deeper, urging me on.

I thrust into her slowly at first, enjoying every inch as her pussy stretched around me. She was snug, hot and slick, her walls gripping my cock like warm velvet that refused to let go. Each slow slide in dragged against her inner ridges, her wetness coating me completely, making every movement smooth and obscene. The scent of her arousal filled the air, sweet, musky, feminine, mixed with the faint vanilla from her skin and the lingering sugar from the pies. It was intoxicating, making my head spin as I buried myself deeper.

Abella moaned beneath me, her legs tightening around my waist and heels digging into my lower back to pull me in harder. “Yes… deeper, Ryan… God, you feel so good raw.” Her pussy clenched around me with every thrust, fluttering and squeezing like she was trying to make me explode already. I could feel her pulse inside, the rhythmic grip that sent jolts of pleasure up my spine. She was dripping, her juices slicking my shaft and dripping down my balls with every pull back. The wet sounds of us fucking were loud in the quiet bedroom. sloppy, obscene and forbidden. I was fucking my stepmom raw. It was thrilling and felt so good.

I picked up speed, hips snapping forward, driving into her with long, deep strokes. She arched her back, breasts bouncing with each impact, nipples hard and pink. Her nails raked down my shoulders, leaving faint red lines. “Harder,” she said. “Fuck me like you mean it.” I obeyed, pounding into her, feeling her pussy open up even more, welcoming every thrust. She was so wet it coated my thighs, the friction perfect. hot, slippery and clinging. Every time I bottomed out, she whimpered, her clit grinding against my pubic bone, her inner walls rippling around me.

She came first, suddenly and hard, her pussy clamping down like a fist, spasming wildly around my cock. She cried out, body shaking, legs trembling as she rode the wave. The sight and feel of her climax triggered mine.

I slammed deep one last time and exploded. My cock pulsed hard, thick spurts of cum flooding her pussy, hot and heavy. I felt every jet shoot out, painting her walls, filling her up until it was too much. She moaned at the warmth, her pussy clenching rhythmically, milking me for every drop. I kept thrusting through it, shallow and slow, pushing my cum deeper inside her and giving her the creampie she so desperately wanted.

When the pulses finally stopped, I stayed buried for a moment, breathing hard against her neck. Then I eased out slowly. As my cock slipped free, a thick stream of white cum immediately leaked from her swollen pink pussy: creamy and glistening, dripping down her slit and pooling on the sheets beneath her ass. She reached down, fingers spreading her lips wide so I could see it all: her pink folds coated and messy, more cum oozing out slowly, running in rivulets down her thighs. She scooped some with two fingers, brought them to her lips, tasting us both.

“God,” she whispered, eyes glassy. “I can still feel you inside me… leaking out. It’s so much.”

I collapsed beside her, heart hammering, watching my cum drip from her well-fucked pussy. She curled against me, one leg draped over mine, still leaking slowly onto the sheets.

“How was that?” I asked her, hoping she’d feel satisfied now.

She kissed my forehead, hair fanned out on the pillow, and giggled. “Best creampie of my life,” she said, voice dreamy.

“I’m glad.”

“Next time I want to feel it twice,” she said with a wink and a kiss. “And I’ll bake you a creampie.”

I laughed out loud, then rolled over and kissed her, tasting sugar and something forbidden and wonderful on her lips.

If this was being bad, I never wanted to be good again.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

There’s no polite way to say you’re obsessed with your stepmom’s ass. There’s definitely no way to make it sound less creepy when you’re nineteen and can’t go twenty minutes at home without thinking about it. I’d tried. The first week after Dad married Ava, I told myself it was just the shock of her looks, or the divorce weirdness, or maybe some Oedipal brain virus. By the end of sophomore year, it was clear: I was just another sex-obsessed loser, except the Pornhub search terms I used best matched the woman who picked me up from soccer practice.

Ava moved in two years ago and basically detonated every expectation I had of what a stepmom was supposed to be. She was in her forties, but you’d never guess it if you went by her body, perky yoga-tits, a flat stomach and an ass that turned heads. Dad bragged that she was a fitness nut, but her version of fitness was yoga in sports bras, jogging in the tightest shorts on Earth and “accidentally” buying thong swimwear two sizes too small. The only thing sharper than her body was her sense of humor, which always ran dirty if you listened close. She was the type who caught you looking, then winked or made a joke so filthy you pitched a tent.

It was Saturday morning and I was in the kitchen, eating a breakfast burrito and trying to ignore the hard-on I’d woken up with. Dad was already out for the day, working some weekend convention gig, so it was just me and my stepmom.

Ava padded in barefoot, dark hair loose and thick, wearing a black sports bra that lifted her big boobs, which made the cleavage deeper and yoga pants so tight it looked like they were painted on, not even baggy. The leggings rode high, wedging her ass into two perfect orbs, seam splitting the difference with all the subtlety of a magic marker. She did a calf stretch at the sink, bent her knee, then switched sides. I glanced, looked away, breathed and looked again. Ava bent further, reaching for the floor and touching her toes with straight legs, ass aimed straight at me.

“Always staring,” she said, not looking up.

 “Sorry, what?”

She grinned at the tile. “You heard me. You’ve been staring at my butt since you were seventeen. I’m flattered, honestly. Your dad doesn’t even look anymore.” She straightened and winked, then twisted to reach for a glass from the cabinet, which naturally involved a full side-to-side shake.

I felt my face turn red and tried to cover it with a joke. “Yeah, it’s, uh, hard to miss. You’re like … a walking ad for yoga.”

She filled her glass and took a long drink, watching me over the rim, her high cheekbones reddening. She was hot, insanely so. She had a natural tan and a gorgeous face, wherever you looked, it was like a sexual treat. “You have no idea,” she said. “Maybe I’ll teach you sometime.”

I tried to focus on my breakfast, but she came over, hip-checking my elbow, close enough that the top of her ass grazed me. I was in mesh basketball shorts and zero underwear. She had to have felt my half-wood.

“Relax,” she whispered. “You’re a guy. You look. It’s fine, just don’t get caught staring too long or I’ll charge you rent.” She swatted my arm, laughed, and went off to the laundry room.

I just sat there, my heart thumping so loudly that I was sure the neighbor’s dog could hear. There was a hotness to Ava that went way beyond what you see online. It wasn’t just her looks, but how she talked, how she always seemed to know the exact moment you were thinking something filthy.

*****

Later that morning, she called me into the laundry room. “Jake, I need a hand with the washer, it’s stuck again.”

I wandered in, expecting to lift something heavy or reset a button. Instead, I got the sight of Ava bent all the way into the washing machine, legs spread and yoga pants stretched so thin you could read her tan lines. The waistband had slipped, revealing a bright red thong riding above her hips.

She grunted, twisting to reach a lost sock, and the move made her ass vibrate. I had to shift positions to keep my junk from doing the same.

“Can you grab my waist and pull me out?” she asked, voice muffled by towels. “I’m stuck.”

She wasn’t, not even close, but I played along, grabbing her at the hips, which meant direct contact with the meatiest part of her ass. She pushed herself back, grinding against my palms for a split second before I helped her upright.

She turned to face me, smiling with a lipstick-red flush to her cheeks. She caught my eyes flick down to her waistband, then to her boobs, then away.

“Really, Jake? Still hard?” She flicked her eyes down at my shorts and smirked.

“Sorry. It’s like … involuntary.”

“Boys,” she said with a giggle. “You know, back in college, I dated a guy who was obsessed with my ass. Like, literally wouldn’t touch me anywhere else.” She adjusted her waistband, giving me a longer look at the thong before snapping it back into place. “You ever wonder what it feels like?”

“All the time,” I said.

Her grin widened. “Pool this afternoon. You’re on sunscreen duty. And no peeping from your room.” She wagged a finger at me, then left, carrying a basket of towels.

*****

Upstairs, I tried to focus on my phone, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw her ass in my face, or the thong flash, or the way her voice dropped whenever she caught me looking. My phone was full of girls my age who posed in thongs and crop tops, but none of them had Ava’s proportions or her attitude. She was always one step ahead, always running the game.

*****

At three, she was out at the pool in a bikini that left nothing to the imagination, neon green, string, barely even a square inch of coverage. I brought out the bottle of sunscreen and tried not to stare, but the effect was direct and nuclear. She lay face down on a lounge chair, legs parted and one foot bobbing in the air. The fabric of her bottoms wedged so deep I wondered if she’d have to surgically remove it.

She didn’t look up, but patted the chair next to her. “C’mon, be a gentleman. Oil me up.”

I nearly tripped sitting down. She pulled her hair up, exposing the curve of her neck and shoulders. “Start at the top and work your way down.”

I pumped sunscreen into my palm, but my hands shook since I was a bit nervous. I started with her shoulders, and her skin was so warm and smooth I almost came right there. I worked down to her lower back, where she arched just enough to flex her glutes, then into her back, her ass inches away and gleaming with sweat.

“Don’t be shy,” she said. “You can touch. I know you want to.”

I let my hands drift to her hips, then to the bare skin above the bikini. She shivered. “That’s it,” she said. “A little firmer, hmm.”

I massaged the sides of her ass, then got bolder, working my way in. She spread her legs a little wider, and I let my thumbs ride the outside curve, careful not to be too obvious. The entire time my dick was throbbing against my shorts, straining so hard I thought it would tear free.

“You’re good at this,” Ava said. “Are you sure you haven’t done it before?”

I swallowed. “No. I mean, yes, I’m sure, never.”

She rolled over, bikini top untied, and let her breasts bounce free. “Do my front, too. Don’t worry, I’m not a prude.” She winked. “Unless you want me to be.”

My jaw dropped. It was the first time I’d seen her MILF breasts nude, shaped as two bells, slightly tan and topped with thick peachy nipples. She had a natural cleavage on top of it. She was a well-endowed woman. After ogling for a minute, I rubbed lotion onto her abs, her boobs and the insides of her thighs. She watched me the whole time, smiling when I lingered too long or went too low. Her peachy nipples hardened, and the bottoms of her bikini barely concealed anything. I could squeeze those breasts for the rest of my life.

She glanced down at my lap. “You’re about to poke a hole in those shorts, you know.”

I looked away, but she reached over and squeezed my thigh, thumb grazing the head of my cock through the fabric.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You want this ass, don’t you? Don’t lie.”

I couldn’t speak. I just nodded.

She sat up and put a hand on my chest, leaning in close enough for me to smell her perfume and sunscreen. “Your dad won’t touch it anymore. He’s always limp, needs dick pills to get a hard-on. But you … you’d do anything for it, wouldn’t you?”

I nodded again, barely breathing.

She kissed my cheek. “Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you have it. But you have to earn it.”

“Really?”

She gave me a wink and nodded. “But you need to tone it down on your peeking. Your dad is going to catch you.”

“I—”

She cut me off. “Jake, I love that you’re obsessed. It makes me feel wanted, which is more than I can say for your dad lately. But you don’t have to sneak around. If you want it, you can just ask.”

She reached over, placed her hand on my thigh, and squeezed. “I know you watch a ton of ass porn. I’ve heard you. I know what you’re thinking about when you look at me.”

My face was on fire.

She moved her hand higher, almost to my crotch. “I like it too, you know. I love the feeling of being filled. But your dad refuses. Says it’s ‘gross.’ And he can barely keep an erection for vaginal penetration. If you want my ass, you can have it. But you have to promise, no more peeping, no more secrets and you never tell him ever, got it?”

I couldn’t speak. I just nodded, mouth open, so hard I was dizzy.

She smiled, “Bedroom … now.”

She stood, put on her yoga clothes and went inside, hips swaying for maximum effect. I followed her up the stairs, my brain totally short-circuiting, all the shame and guilt and need slamming together into one hot, unstoppable rush.

She pulled me into the bedroom the second the door was closed, her lips hitting mine hard, hands in my hair and then on my back, then under my shirt. And when I kissed her back, she moaned as if enjoying this more than anything else.

She walked me backward to her bed, then sat and tugged me down with her. The feeling of her tongue in my mouth, her hands moving fast and sure, was enough to make me forget that this was supposed to be impossible. But it was real, and she wanted it even more than I did. She made that clear in the way she went for my shorts, pulling them down to my knees, then stroking my hard cock, eyes never leaving mine.

“You’ve got a good one,” she whispered. “Thick and hard, perfect for what I want.” She twisted her fist at the head, making me buck, and grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll go slow.”

She stripped off her sports bra, letting her bell-shaped breasts spill out. She pressed them against my chest, her skin so hot I shivered.

“Take off my pants,” she said, and leaned back on her elbows, watching me.

I tried to go slow, but my hands shook and I fumbled the waistband. She laughed, then lifted her hips, letting me peel the yoga pants and thong in one go. The sight of her bare ass, tanned, perfectly smooth, a thick juicy curve that rippled as she sat up, hit me like a punch. I’d imagined this a thousand times, but the reality was beyond anything a phone screen could show. Ava’s pussy was shaved, glistening, a pink slit hiding between tanned thighs so toned I felt weak just looking at them. But it was her asshole that drew my eye, perfectly puckered and a little darker.

She saw where I was looking and wiggled her hips. “I told you. You can have it, but you need to get me ready.”

I knelt between her legs, heart racing, not sure what to do, but determined to try.

“Start with your tongue,” she said. “Just like porn, but gentler. I want to feel it.”

I licked her pussy first, tasting her, getting used to the softness, the heat and the little shudders that ran through her thighs when I hit the right spot. She hummed and ran her fingers through my hair, pressing me closer to her pussy. When she was wet and moaning, she lifted her knees and told me, “Now, higher.”

I ran my tongue up, tracing the line to her rim. I kissed it, then circled the tip of my tongue around the dark ring, amazed at how soft and clean it was.

“Go on,” she said. “You want it, eat it.”

I pushed my tongue in, fucking her ass with it, and she gasped, clenching and grinding against my face.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “I love that. Now … lube.”

She fetched a small bottle from her nightstand, handed it to me and rolled onto her stomach, ass high in the air, face down. I poured lube onto my fingers, then spread her cheeks and rubbed it around her rim, slowly working the tip in.

“That’s it,” she said. “Just a finger, move it around. I need to loosen up.”

I slid one finger in, shocked by how tight and warm it felt. She pushed back, taking me deeper, then told me to add another. With two fingers, I could see her asshole stretching, her skin shiny with lube. She moaned louder, arching her back, and I realized she was fingering herself at the same time.

When she was ready, she turned over and pulled me down for another kiss, this one hungrier and wetter with plenty of tongue action. She reached down and guided my cock to her pussy, letting me slide in for a few strokes, just to get coated in her juices. My stepmom’s pussy felt snug, warm and incredibly wet. Then she pulled out and pressed my cock against her asshole.

“Now,” she whispered. “Go slow. Push when I say push. If I tell you to stop, you stop.”

I lined up and pressed the head in. It felt tight, like she was trying to keep me out, but with every push and every word of encouragement, she relaxed, just a little more and invited me inside her ass. I got the head in and she hissed, clutching the sheets.

“Easy,” she said. “Just let me adjust. God, you’re thick.”

I waited, barely able to hold back, until she gave a little nod. “Deeper, go on.”

I pushed in, an inch at a time, watching her ass stretch and swallow me. She was so tight I could feel every heartbeat and every flex. When I was halfway in, she started rocking back, fucking herself onto my cock, her moans getting wilder.

“God, I missed this,” she groaned. “Your dad never would. He’s afraid I’ll get ruined. But this … this is what I want.”

I slid all the way in, my hips pressed to her ass. She clenched and gasped, then started working her muscles, milking me, her body totally in control.

“Fuck me,” she begged. “I want you to stretch my ass, Jake. All of it.”

I started thrusting, slow at first, then faster as she loosened. Every time I pulled out, her rim gripped the shaft, clinging to it, then swallowed it back. The noises were obscene, wet and loud, but it just made me harder.

“Look at you,” she said over her shoulder. “Fucking your stepmom’s ass. You ever think you’d get to do that?”

I couldn’t answer. I was too lost in the heat, the squeeze and the sight of her thick ass bouncing with every thrust. I forgot about the taboo part, but it just made it so much sweeter.

She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit, moaning nonstop. “Don’t stop,” she said. “If you want to cum, do it inside. I want to feel you fill me up.”

I felt it building, unstoppable, like I was going to explode. I kept thrusting, seeing her gorgeous ass ripple and my cock disappearing and reappearing inside her asshole, again and again and again. I was in heaven, the ring tightening around my cock, making the friction so much sweeter. “Fuck, this feels good.”

“So you like my ass, don’t you?” she asked, twisting her neck to look at me.

“Oh, I love it,” I said as I buried myself to the hilt and pulled back, seeing the ring grip my cock before I plunged it right back in. She matched my thrusts, backing her ass against my erection. She was hungry for cock. I could easily tell by her moans and sighs. What a woman. I gripped her cheeks for dear life as I penetrated her rosebud again, feeling the orgasm approach.

“Gosh, Ava, I’m coming.”

“Give it to me, you horny stud!”

Ten more anal strokes, and I climaxed. The first jet of cum shot out of my cock, followed by several more as I buried myself to the hilt. I came so hard I saw stars, pumping into her ass until it leaked out around my cock. She milked every drop, rocking back and forth to maintain the friction. I sighed in relief and then slowly pulled out, seeing her asshole gape open with cum and lube before closing properly. She collapsed on the bed, dragging me with her.

We lay there, and she stroked my back and whispered, “Good boy … promise kept?”

I nodded.

She kissed me again, then grinned. “No more peeking, okay? If you want me, you come to me when we’re alone. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, and realized I’d never want anything else again.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

There’s no polite way to say you’re obsessed with your stepmom’s ass. There’s definitely no way to make it sound less creepy when you’re nineteen and can’t go twenty minutes at home without thinking about it. I’d tried. The first week after Dad married Ava, I told myself it was just the shock of her looks, or the divorce weirdness, or maybe some Oedipal brain virus. By the end of sophomore year, it was clear: I was just another sex-obsessed loser, except the Pornhub search terms I used best matched the woman who picked me up from soccer practice.

Ava moved in two years ago and basically detonated every expectation I had of what a stepmom was supposed to be. She was in her forties, but you’d never guess it if you went by her body, perky yoga-tits, a flat stomach and an ass that turned heads. Dad bragged that she was a fitness nut, but her version of fitness was yoga in sports bras, jogging in the tightest shorts on Earth and “accidentally” buying thong swimwear two sizes too small. The only thing sharper than her body was her sense of humor, which always ran dirty if you listened close. She was the type who caught you looking, then winked or made a joke so filthy you pitched a tent.

It was Saturday morning and I was in the kitchen, eating a breakfast burrito and trying to ignore the hard-on I’d woken up with. Dad was already out for the day, working some weekend convention gig, so it was just me and my stepmom.

Ava padded in barefoot, dark hair loose and thick, wearing a black sports bra that lifted her big boobs, which made the cleavage deeper and yoga pants so tight it looked like they were painted on, not even baggy. The leggings rode high, wedging her ass into two perfect orbs, seam splitting the difference with all the subtlety of a magic marker. She did a calf stretch at the sink, bent her knee, then switched sides. I glanced, looked away, breathed and looked again. Ava bent further, reaching for the floor and touching her toes with straight legs, ass aimed straight at me.

“Always staring,” she said, not looking up.

 “Sorry, what?”

She grinned at the tile. “You heard me. You’ve been staring at my butt since you were seventeen. I’m flattered, honestly. Your dad doesn’t even look anymore.” She straightened and winked, then twisted to reach for a glass from the cabinet, which naturally involved a full side-to-side shake.

I felt my face turn red and tried to cover it with a joke. “Yeah, it’s, uh, hard to miss. You’re like … a walking ad for yoga.”

She filled her glass and took a long drink, watching me over the rim, her high cheekbones reddening. She was hot, insanely so. She had a natural tan and a gorgeous face, wherever you looked, it was like a sexual treat. “You have no idea,” she said. “Maybe I’ll teach you sometime.”

I tried to focus on my breakfast, but she came over, hip-checking my elbow, close enough that the top of her ass grazed me. I was in mesh basketball shorts and zero underwear. She had to have felt my half-wood.

“Relax,” she whispered. “You’re a guy. You look. It’s fine, just don’t get caught staring too long or I’ll charge you rent.” She swatted my arm, laughed, and went off to the laundry room.

I just sat there, my heart thumping so loudly that I was sure the neighbor’s dog could hear. There was a hotness to Ava that went way beyond what you see online. It wasn’t just her looks, but how she talked, how she always seemed to know the exact moment you were thinking something filthy.

*****

Later that morning, she called me into the laundry room. “Jake, I need a hand with the washer, it’s stuck again.”

I wandered in, expecting to lift something heavy or reset a button. Instead, I got the sight of Ava bent all the way into the washing machine, legs spread and yoga pants stretched so thin you could read her tan lines. The waistband had slipped, revealing a bright red thong riding above her hips.

She grunted, twisting to reach a lost sock, and the move made her ass vibrate. I had to shift positions to keep my junk from doing the same.

“Can you grab my waist and pull me out?” she asked, voice muffled by towels. “I’m stuck.”

She wasn’t, not even close, but I played along, grabbing her at the hips, which meant direct contact with the meatiest part of her ass. She pushed herself back, grinding against my palms for a split second before I helped her upright.

She turned to face me, smiling with a lipstick-red flush to her cheeks. She caught my eyes flick down to her waistband, then to her boobs, then away.

“Really, Jake? Still hard?” She flicked her eyes down at my shorts and smirked.

“Sorry. It’s like … involuntary.”

“Boys,” she said with a giggle. “You know, back in college, I dated a guy who was obsessed with my ass. Like, literally wouldn’t touch me anywhere else.” She adjusted her waistband, giving me a longer look at the thong before snapping it back into place. “You ever wonder what it feels like?”

“All the time,” I said.

Her grin widened. “Pool this afternoon. You’re on sunscreen duty. And no peeping from your room.” She wagged a finger at me, then left, carrying a basket of towels.

*****

Upstairs, I tried to focus on my phone, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw her ass in my face, or the thong flash, or the way her voice dropped whenever she caught me looking. My phone was full of girls my age who posed in thongs and crop tops, but none of them had Ava’s proportions or her attitude. She was always one step ahead, always running the game.

*****

At three, she was out at the pool in a bikini that left nothing to the imagination, neon green, string, barely even a square inch of coverage. I brought out the bottle of sunscreen and tried not to stare, but the effect was direct and nuclear. She lay face down on a lounge chair, legs parted and one foot bobbing in the air. The fabric of her bottoms wedged so deep I wondered if she’d have to surgically remove it.

She didn’t look up, but patted the chair next to her. “C’mon, be a gentleman. Oil me up.”

I nearly tripped sitting down. She pulled her hair up, exposing the curve of her neck and shoulders. “Start at the top and work your way down.”

I pumped sunscreen into my palm, but my hands shook since I was a bit nervous. I started with her shoulders, and her skin was so warm and smooth I almost came right there. I worked down to her lower back, where she arched just enough to flex her glutes, then into her back, her ass inches away and gleaming with sweat.

“Don’t be shy,” she said. “You can touch. I know you want to.”

I let my hands drift to her hips, then to the bare skin above the bikini. She shivered. “That’s it,” she said. “A little firmer, hmm.”

I massaged the sides of her ass, then got bolder, working my way in. She spread her legs a little wider, and I let my thumbs ride the outside curve, careful not to be too obvious. The entire time my dick was throbbing against my shorts, straining so hard I thought it would tear free.

“You’re good at this,” Ava said. “Are you sure you haven’t done it before?”

I swallowed. “No. I mean, yes, I’m sure, never.”

She rolled over, bikini top untied, and let her breasts bounce free. “Do my front, too. Don’t worry, I’m not a prude.” She winked. “Unless you want me to be.”

My jaw dropped. It was the first time I’d seen her MILF breasts nude, shaped as two bells, slightly tan and topped with thick peachy nipples. She had a natural cleavage on top of it. She was a well-endowed woman. After ogling for a minute, I rubbed lotion onto her abs, her boobs and the insides of her thighs. She watched me the whole time, smiling when I lingered too long or went too low. Her peachy nipples hardened, and the bottoms of her bikini barely concealed anything. I could squeeze those breasts for the rest of my life.

She glanced down at my lap. “You’re about to poke a hole in those shorts, you know.”

I looked away, but she reached over and squeezed my thigh, thumb grazing the head of my cock through the fabric.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You want this ass, don’t you? Don’t lie.”

I couldn’t speak. I just nodded.

She sat up and put a hand on my chest, leaning in close enough for me to smell her perfume and sunscreen. “Your dad won’t touch it anymore. He’s always limp, needs dick pills to get a hard-on. But you … you’d do anything for it, wouldn’t you?”

I nodded again, barely breathing.

She kissed my cheek. “Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you have it. But you have to earn it.”

“Really?”

She gave me a wink and nodded. “But you need to tone it down on your peeking. Your dad is going to catch you.”

“I—”

She cut me off. “Jake, I love that you’re obsessed. It makes me feel wanted, which is more than I can say for your dad lately. But you don’t have to sneak around. If you want it, you can just ask.”

She reached over, placed her hand on my thigh, and squeezed. “I know you watch a ton of ass porn. I’ve heard you. I know what you’re thinking about when you look at me.”

My face was on fire.

She moved her hand higher, almost to my crotch. “I like it too, you know. I love the feeling of being filled. But your dad refuses. Says it’s ‘gross.’ And he can barely keep an erection for vaginal penetration. If you want my ass, you can have it. But you have to promise, no more peeping, no more secrets and you never tell him ever, got it?”

I couldn’t speak. I just nodded, mouth open, so hard I was dizzy.

She smiled, “Bedroom … now.”

She stood, put on her yoga clothes and went inside, hips swaying for maximum effect. I followed her up the stairs, my brain totally short-circuiting, all the shame and guilt and need slamming together into one hot, unstoppable rush.

She pulled me into the bedroom the second the door was closed, her lips hitting mine hard, hands in my hair and then on my back, then under my shirt. And when I kissed her back, she moaned as if enjoying this more than anything else.

She walked me backward to her bed, then sat and tugged me down with her. The feeling of her tongue in my mouth, her hands moving fast and sure, was enough to make me forget that this was supposed to be impossible. But it was real, and she wanted it even more than I did. She made that clear in the way she went for my shorts, pulling them down to my knees, then stroking my hard cock, eyes never leaving mine.

“You’ve got a good one,” she whispered. “Thick and hard, perfect for what I want.” She twisted her fist at the head, making me buck, and grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll go slow.”

She stripped off her sports bra, letting her bell-shaped breasts spill out. She pressed them against my chest, her skin so hot I shivered.

“Take off my pants,” she said, and leaned back on her elbows, watching me.

I tried to go slow, but my hands shook and I fumbled the waistband. She laughed, then lifted her hips, letting me peel the yoga pants and thong in one go. The sight of her bare ass, tanned, perfectly smooth, a thick juicy curve that rippled as she sat up, hit me like a punch. I’d imagined this a thousand times, but the reality was beyond anything a phone screen could show. Ava’s pussy was shaved, glistening, a pink slit hiding between tanned thighs so toned I felt weak just looking at them. But it was her asshole that drew my eye, perfectly puckered and a little darker.

She saw where I was looking and wiggled her hips. “I told you. You can have it, but you need to get me ready.”

I knelt between her legs, heart racing, not sure what to do, but determined to try.

“Start with your tongue,” she said. “Just like porn, but gentler. I want to feel it.”

I licked her pussy first, tasting her, getting used to the softness, the heat and the little shudders that ran through her thighs when I hit the right spot. She hummed and ran her fingers through my hair, pressing me closer to her pussy. When she was wet and moaning, she lifted her knees and told me, “Now, higher.”

I ran my tongue up, tracing the line to her rim. I kissed it, then circled the tip of my tongue around the dark ring, amazed at how soft and clean it was.

“Go on,” she said. “You want it, eat it.”

I pushed my tongue in, fucking her ass with it, and she gasped, clenching and grinding against my face.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “I love that. Now … lube.”

She fetched a small bottle from her nightstand, handed it to me and rolled onto her stomach, ass high in the air, face down. I poured lube onto my fingers, then spread her cheeks and rubbed it around her rim, slowly working the tip in.

“That’s it,” she said. “Just a finger, move it around. I need to loosen up.”

I slid one finger in, shocked by how tight and warm it felt. She pushed back, taking me deeper, then told me to add another. With two fingers, I could see her asshole stretching, her skin shiny with lube. She moaned louder, arching her back, and I realized she was fingering herself at the same time.

When she was ready, she turned over and pulled me down for another kiss, this one hungrier and wetter with plenty of tongue action. She reached down and guided my cock to her pussy, letting me slide in for a few strokes, just to get coated in her juices. My stepmom’s pussy felt snug, warm and incredibly wet. Then she pulled out and pressed my cock against her asshole.

“Now,” she whispered. “Go slow. Push when I say push. If I tell you to stop, you stop.”

I lined up and pressed the head in. It felt tight, like she was trying to keep me out, but with every push and every word of encouragement, she relaxed, just a little more and invited me inside her ass. I got the head in and she hissed, clutching the sheets.

“Easy,” she said. “Just let me adjust. God, you’re thick.”

I waited, barely able to hold back, until she gave a little nod. “Deeper, go on.”

I pushed in, an inch at a time, watching her ass stretch and swallow me. She was so tight I could feel every heartbeat and every flex. When I was halfway in, she started rocking back, fucking herself onto my cock, her moans getting wilder.

“God, I missed this,” she groaned. “Your dad never would. He’s afraid I’ll get ruined. But this … this is what I want.”

I slid all the way in, my hips pressed to her ass. She clenched and gasped, then started working her muscles, milking me, her body totally in control.

“Fuck me,” she begged. “I want you to stretch my ass, Jake. All of it.”

I started thrusting, slow at first, then faster as she loosened. Every time I pulled out, her rim gripped the shaft, clinging to it, then swallowed it back. The noises were obscene, wet and loud, but it just made me harder.

“Look at you,” she said over her shoulder. “Fucking your stepmom’s ass. You ever think you’d get to do that?”

I couldn’t answer. I was too lost in the heat, the squeeze and the sight of her thick ass bouncing with every thrust. I forgot about the taboo part, but it just made it so much sweeter.

She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit, moaning nonstop. “Don’t stop,” she said. “If you want to cum, do it inside. I want to feel you fill me up.”

I felt it building, unstoppable, like I was going to explode. I kept thrusting, seeing her gorgeous ass ripple and my cock disappearing and reappearing inside her asshole, again and again and again. I was in heaven, the ring tightening around my cock, making the friction so much sweeter. “Fuck, this feels good.”

“So you like my ass, don’t you?” she asked, twisting her neck to look at me.

“Oh, I love it,” I said as I buried myself to the hilt and pulled back, seeing the ring grip my cock before I plunged it right back in. She matched my thrusts, backing her ass against my erection. She was hungry for cock. I could easily tell by her moans and sighs. What a woman. I gripped her cheeks for dear life as I penetrated her rosebud again, feeling the orgasm approach.

“Gosh, Ava, I’m coming.”

“Give it to me, you horny stud!”

Ten more anal strokes, and I climaxed. The first jet of cum shot out of my cock, followed by several more as I buried myself to the hilt. I came so hard I saw stars, pumping into her ass until it leaked out around my cock. She milked every drop, rocking back and forth to maintain the friction. I sighed in relief and then slowly pulled out, seeing her asshole gape open with cum and lube before closing properly. She collapsed on the bed, dragging me with her.

We lay there, and she stroked my back and whispered, “Good boy … promise kept?”

I nodded.

She kissed me again, then grinned. “No more peeking, okay? If you want me, you come to me when we’re alone. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, and realized I’d never want anything else again.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

It was the summer after my junior year of college, and I was twenty and bored. Which is how I found myself in my bedroom, shorts tented, phone balanced on my abs, doomscrolling through Reddit while I pretended to study sports physiology. The clock said 1:17 AM. And I was halfway through a thread when I saw it: a crosspost to r/ DeepAnal. The thumbnail made my brain freeze. If you squinted, the girl’s ass looked exactly like Lila’s. Not Lila from my calculus class, my actual neighbor, Lila from three houses down, the one I’d been tongue-tied over since she moved in last winter.

My thumb hovered, sweat dotting the screen. I tapped in. The video started with Lila on her hands and knees, a black bedsheet beneath her, back arched. Even with her face blurred by a cheap filter, it was obviously her: the dark ponytail, the olive skin, the way she bit her lip even when she thought nobody was looking. The camera angle didn’t even try for subtlety; it was aimed dead center at her ass.

She had a plug already in, the kind you had to order from overseas if you didn’t want your credit card flagged by Amazon. She reached back, worked it loose with a twist, and let her asshole gape open, a dark coin slot in the middle of that roundness. My cock twitched as she pressed her fingers in, three at first, then four, each one making her gasp in a way that was both shocked and proud, like she couldn’t believe what her body was capable of.

The video cut … New angle. Lila upright, her tits out, natural and way bigger than the bras she wore around the block. She lubed up a thick blue dildo, longer than my forearm, and pressed it in with both hands. She took it all the way, no gagging and no drama. Her ass swallowed it in increments, the skin stretched shiny and perfect, until the base of the toy smacked her cheeks with a slick, porn-y sound. She held it there, flexed and then let out this giggle that was so out-of-place and real I nearly busted on the spot.

I thumbed through her profile. The page was full of posts. Most had five-digit upvotes and hundreds of comments, all drooling over her ass. But in every single video, she was alone.

I couldn’t sleep. I watched every single video, a slow-motion parade of plugs and beads and fists, each one more outrageous than the last. By the end, I was so hard my cock hurt, and I had the taste of her name in my mouth like a dare.

*****

The next morning, the world was exactly the same. Sun filtering through the window, mom on a call in the next room. If Lila were a porn star, she kept it under wraps. She still jogged in sports bras and took her trash out like a civilian, and she’d never so much as looked at me with anything but neighborly politeness.

So when my phone buzzed at 10:32 AM, and it was a text from her, I damn near spiked it across the room.

Hey, you up?

I waited a full minute before responding, because I didn’t want to seem desperate, but the minute felt like an hour and my thumbs shook the whole time.

Yeah. What’s up?

A three-bubble pause. Then, Could you help me move some stuff? It’s heavy as fuck. I’ll owe you a favor.

I read, “favor” and my brain melted.

Of course. Just lemme know when.

She responded with a “come by whenever,” with a winky face that would have been normal in any other context. Now it felt like a secret handshake.

I showered, threw on shorts and my tightest tank, and hurried outside. Her front yard was littered with cardboard boxes. The front door was open and music played from somewhere inside. I stepped in, trying not to trip over the pile of discarded Amazon tape, and called her name.

“In here!” Lila’s voice echoed from the living room.

I followed the sound. She was perched on the edge of her couch, legs crossed, wearing ripped jean shorts and a cropped sweatshirt that showed the bottom curve of her tits every time she moved. Her hair was up, like in the videos, and her nails were painted jet black.

“Hey, Noah!” She grinned, brushing dust off her thigh. “Thanks for coming on short notice. My parents are being dicks about their storage unit and I have to get all this shit out before they come back from their cruise.”

“No problem,” I said, trying not to stare at the way her shorts rode up her hips. “What am I moving?”

She pointed to a mountain of boxes in the corner. “Just those, and this coffee table. It’s heavier than it looks. If you drop it, I’ll cry.”

She had this way of talking that was all teasing, like she was daring you to take everything literally. I’d seen it in her videos last night as well. She would narrate her own actions, roast herself, make little jokes about splitting myself in half or ruining my future marriage. It was strange, hearing the same voice now, but without the echo of latex and lube.

I started with the boxes, loading them two at a time, making a show of flexing my arms a little harder than I needed to. Lila watched from the couch, one leg bouncing, lips curled into a smile.

“So what have you been up to all summer?” she asked.

“Working out, mostly. Trying not to go insane at my parents’ house,” I said.

She snorted. “I know that feeling. I’m about two days away from losing my mind.” She uncrossed her legs and bent forward to pick up a screwdriver, which gave me a direct, unfiltered view of her ass. The shorts wedged up high, like they were painted on, and I had to look away before I pitched a giant tent.

She caught the glance and grinned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, I’m good.”

Every time she bent over or squatted, I saw more skin, more hot angles. I thought of the videos, the way her body looked from behind, how she seemed to take it all like it was nothing, and wondered how the hell she wasn’t famous outside of Reddit.

I carried the last box out and set it on the porch. When I came back, she was standing in front of the coffee table, hands on her hips, sweating slightly. She tried lifting one side and immediately gave up, fake-dramatic groaning.

“God, I’m useless,” she said. “Can you just drag it to the dining room?”

“Sure,” I said. The thing weighed a ton, but I managed to muscle it off the floor and move it across the carpet. Lila followed, giving directions, but halfway down the hall she stopped me.

“Wait. Here, let’s move it to the bedroom instead.”

She held the door open and watched me lug the thing in. The bed was stripped bare except for a black sheet and a messy pile of pillows. It looked exactly like the set from her videos. I swallowed and tried not to let my mind go there.

I put the table down and wiped the sweat from my brow.

“You okay?” she asked, cocking her head.

“Yeah. Just, uh.” She arched an eyebrow and I decided to be upfront. “I’ve seen what you film here.”

She smirked. “You seen my stuff?” she said, rolling onto her stomach. The hem of her shorts pulled so high I could see the white outline of her thong.

“Yeah, actually. Discovered your content last night.”

She grinned, pleased. “Which one?”

“Uh, the, uh, dildo one. And the plug thing. And… all of them, honestly.”

She propped her chin in her hands. “The internet is wild, right? I never even told anyone my username.”

I shrugged, heart in my throat. “I recognized you straight away.”

She bit her lip, eyes narrowing, as if she were looking through me. “So, you like anal?”

“I think you’re the only person alive who could take a thing that thick.”

She laughed. “I get that a lot.”

I felt the need to say something, anything, before I died of embarrassment. “You ever, uh… try it for real? With a guy?”

She rolled onto her back, arms above her head, and arched one eyebrow. “You offering?”

For a second, I didn’t believe she was serious. She must have seen the look on my face, because she sat up and hooked her finger at me.

“Come here,” she said.

I stepped forward. She reached for my waistband and tugged my shorts down just enough to see the outline of my cock.

“Damn,” she said, “you’re bigger than most of my toys.”

I half-laughed, not knowing what to do with my hands.

She got up on her knees and leaned in. “If I let you fuck my ass, you gotta do me a favor.”

“Anything,” I said.

She grinned, wolfish. “Help me film one for my page. I get more subs when there’s a real dick. And I’ll give you the best experience of your life.”

She said it like it was no big deal, like we were swapping homework answers. I nodded, dumbstruck, and she grabbed a bottle of lube from her nightstand. It was twice the size of my shampoo.

She took off her sweatshirt in one move, freeing her tits with a soft bounce, then shimmied her shorts down her hips. She wore nothing underneath. Her ass looked exactly as it did online: plump, tan and a perfect dimple over the left cheek. Her ass was smooth enough to shine, and just below those perfect cheeks, the pink of her pussy was impossible to ignore. She handed me her phone. “Just keep it steady and point it at my hole,” she said, then crawled onto the bed and raised her ass high.

She lubed up her fingers and worked them inside herself, slow and methodical. She explained to the “audience” what she was doing, her voice equal parts sexy and clinical.

“Gotta get ready for the main event,” she said, winking at the phone. Then she took out her old standby, a pink silicone plug as thick as her forearm, and slid it in, inch by inch, until it bottomed out and made her gasp. She held it there, flexed, then worked it loose with a pop that made my cock twitch.

She looked over her shoulder at me, eyes dark and hungry. “You ever done this before?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No. Not even close.”

She grinned. “Then you’re in for a treat. Just go slow at first. And use lots of this.” She squirted a gob of lube into her palm and handed the bottle to me.

I climbed on the bed, phone still recording, and lined myself up behind her. She reached back, spread her cheeks wide, and waited. I pressed the head of my cock to her opening and felt it twitch. She was hot, slick and tight even after all the prep.

She moaned. “Fuck, you’re huge. Go slow, or I’ll rip in half.”

I did as told, pushing in an inch at a time, watching as her asshole stretched around me. She talked me through it, calling out every sensation, every catch of breath and every time I had to stop and wait for her to relax. I could barely hold the phone steady.

Halfway in, she let out a sharp gasp and grabbed my wrist. “Hold it there. Let me get used to it.”

I stopped, feeling her pulse around me. She looked back and licked her lips. “Keep going.”

I pushed deeper, my cock swallowed by her, until my hips were pressed to her ass and there was nowhere left to go. She whimpered, but it was the good kind, and reached under herself to rub her clit.

“Fuck… you’re so deep,” she gasped. “Hold still for a second. Let me feel all of you.”

I stayed buried to the hilt, my cock throbbing inside the tightest, hottest place I had ever been. Her ass pulsed around me, squeezing and relaxing like it was trying to pull me even deeper. The heat was insane, a silky, velvet grip that made my head spin.

Lila breathed through it, then slowly started rocking back against me. “Okay… start fucking. Nice and deep. I want to feel every inch.”

I pulled back until just the head remained inside her stretched ring, then slid forward again, watching my cock disappear between her perfect cheeks. The lube made everything slick and obscene. Each thrust was smoother than the last, and soon I was fucking her with long, deliberate strokes, bottoming out every time. The phone in my hand shook, but I kept it pointed at the point where we were joined.

“God, yes,” she moaned, pushing back to meet me. “Deeper. Really give it to me.”

I gripped her hip with my free hand and started driving harder. The wet, filthy sound of my cock sliding in and out of her ass filled the room. Her cheeks rippled with every impact. I could see her tight ring stretched shiny and pink around my thickness, gripping me like it never wanted to let go.

Lila’s moans got louder. She rubbed her clit faster, her back arching beautifully. “Don’t stop… fuck my ass just like that. You’re so deep, baby.”

The sensation was overwhelming. Her ass was tighter and hotter than anything I’d ever imagined. Every thrust dragged along her walls, the pressure incredible. I could feel her body surrendering more with each stroke, taking me deeper than I thought possible.

I set the phone on the nightstand, angled so it still captured everything, and grabbed both her hips. I started fucking her harder, faster, the slap of skin on skin growing louder. Lila cried out, pushing back to meet every thrust, her ass rippling as I pounded into her.

“Yes! Right there, fuck, you’re hitting so deep!”

I lost myself in the ass fucking. The feeling of her tight ring sliding up and down my shaft, the way her insides clenched and fluttered around me, the sight of her perfect ass bouncing against my hips, it was too much. I could feel my balls tightening, the orgasm building fast.

Ten more anal strokes, and I slammed into her as deep as I could go and came hard. My cock pulsed violently, shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside her ass. I kept thrusting through it, grinding against her, pumping every drop into her tight hole. The sensation of cumming raw in her ass while the phone recorded it was unreal.

Lila moaned loudly as she felt me unloading inside her. Her own orgasm hit right after, her ass clenching around my cock, milking every last spurt. She rubbed her clit furiously, body shaking as she came with me buried to the hilt.

We stayed locked together for a long moment, both panting. I could feel my cum leaking out around my cock as I slowly softened inside her. When I finally pulled out, a thick white trickle oozed from her stretched hole, dripping down her thigh. Lila reached back, spread her cheeks, and I fetched her phone to get a perfect close-up of my cum leaking from her well-fucked ass.

“Well?” she said, sitting up, my cum leaking down her thigh.

“Holy shit,” I said, still catching my breath. “That was…”

She laughed and wiped herself off with a towel. “Best favor you ever did for a neighbor?”

“Not even close,” I said, grinning.

She winked. “Let’s make it a weekly thing, then. I get more followers, you get to wreck my ass.”

She tossed the towel at me, and I caught it, still half-hard.

She was right, the internet was wild. But real life, at least for the moment, was even better.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

It was the summer after my junior year of college, and I was twenty and bored. Which is how I found myself in my bedroom, shorts tented, phone balanced on my abs, doomscrolling through Reddit while I pretended to study sports physiology. The clock said 1:17 AM. And I was halfway through a thread when I saw it: a crosspost to r/ DeepAnal. The thumbnail made my brain freeze. If you squinted, the girl’s ass looked exactly like Lila’s. Not Lila from my calculus class, my actual neighbor, Lila from three houses down, the one I’d been tongue-tied over since she moved in last winter.

My thumb hovered, sweat dotting the screen. I tapped in. The video started with Lila on her hands and knees, a black bedsheet beneath her, back arched. Even with her face blurred by a cheap filter, it was obviously her: the dark ponytail, the olive skin, the way she bit her lip even when she thought nobody was looking. The camera angle didn’t even try for subtlety; it was aimed dead center at her ass.

She had a plug already in, the kind you had to order from overseas if you didn’t want your credit card flagged by Amazon. She reached back, worked it loose with a twist, and let her asshole gape open, a dark coin slot in the middle of that roundness. My cock twitched as she pressed her fingers in, three at first, then four, each one making her gasp in a way that was both shocked and proud, like she couldn’t believe what her body was capable of.

The video cut … New angle. Lila upright, her tits out, natural and way bigger than the bras she wore around the block. She lubed up a thick blue dildo, longer than my forearm, and pressed it in with both hands. She took it all the way, no gagging and no drama. Her ass swallowed it in increments, the skin stretched shiny and perfect, until the base of the toy smacked her cheeks with a slick, porn-y sound. She held it there, flexed and then let out this giggle that was so out-of-place and real I nearly busted on the spot.

I thumbed through her profile. The page was full of posts. Most had five-digit upvotes and hundreds of comments, all drooling over her ass. But in every single video, she was alone.

I couldn’t sleep. I watched every single video, a slow-motion parade of plugs and beads and fists, each one more outrageous than the last. By the end, I was so hard my cock hurt, and I had the taste of her name in my mouth like a dare.

*****

The next morning, the world was exactly the same. Sun filtering through the window, mom on a call in the next room. If Lila were a porn star, she kept it under wraps. She still jogged in sports bras and took her trash out like a civilian, and she’d never so much as looked at me with anything but neighborly politeness.

So when my phone buzzed at 10:32 AM, and it was a text from her, I damn near spiked it across the room.

Hey, you up?

I waited a full minute before responding, because I didn’t want to seem desperate, but the minute felt like an hour and my thumbs shook the whole time.

Yeah. What’s up?

A three-bubble pause. Then, Could you help me move some stuff? It’s heavy as fuck. I’ll owe you a favor.

I read, “favor” and my brain melted.

Of course. Just lemme know when.

She responded with a “come by whenever,” with a winky face that would have been normal in any other context. Now it felt like a secret handshake.

I showered, threw on shorts and my tightest tank, and hurried outside. Her front yard was littered with cardboard boxes. The front door was open and music played from somewhere inside. I stepped in, trying not to trip over the pile of discarded Amazon tape, and called her name.

“In here!” Lila’s voice echoed from the living room.

I followed the sound. She was perched on the edge of her couch, legs crossed, wearing ripped jean shorts and a cropped sweatshirt that showed the bottom curve of her tits every time she moved. Her hair was up, like in the videos, and her nails were painted jet black.

“Hey, Noah!” She grinned, brushing dust off her thigh. “Thanks for coming on short notice. My parents are being dicks about their storage unit and I have to get all this shit out before they come back from their cruise.”

“No problem,” I said, trying not to stare at the way her shorts rode up her hips. “What am I moving?”

She pointed to a mountain of boxes in the corner. “Just those, and this coffee table. It’s heavier than it looks. If you drop it, I’ll cry.”

She had this way of talking that was all teasing, like she was daring you to take everything literally. I’d seen it in her videos last night as well. She would narrate her own actions, roast herself, make little jokes about splitting myself in half or ruining my future marriage. It was strange, hearing the same voice now, but without the echo of latex and lube.

I started with the boxes, loading them two at a time, making a show of flexing my arms a little harder than I needed to. Lila watched from the couch, one leg bouncing, lips curled into a smile.

“So what have you been up to all summer?” she asked.

“Working out, mostly. Trying not to go insane at my parents’ house,” I said.

She snorted. “I know that feeling. I’m about two days away from losing my mind.” She uncrossed her legs and bent forward to pick up a screwdriver, which gave me a direct, unfiltered view of her ass. The shorts wedged up high, like they were painted on, and I had to look away before I pitched a giant tent.

She caught the glance and grinned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, I’m good.”

Every time she bent over or squatted, I saw more skin, more hot angles. I thought of the videos, the way her body looked from behind, how she seemed to take it all like it was nothing, and wondered how the hell she wasn’t famous outside of Reddit.

I carried the last box out and set it on the porch. When I came back, she was standing in front of the coffee table, hands on her hips, sweating slightly. She tried lifting one side and immediately gave up, fake-dramatic groaning.

“God, I’m useless,” she said. “Can you just drag it to the dining room?”

“Sure,” I said. The thing weighed a ton, but I managed to muscle it off the floor and move it across the carpet. Lila followed, giving directions, but halfway down the hall she stopped me.

“Wait. Here, let’s move it to the bedroom instead.”

She held the door open and watched me lug the thing in. The bed was stripped bare except for a black sheet and a messy pile of pillows. It looked exactly like the set from her videos. I swallowed and tried not to let my mind go there.

I put the table down and wiped the sweat from my brow.

“You okay?” she asked, cocking her head.

“Yeah. Just, uh.” She arched an eyebrow and I decided to be upfront. “I’ve seen what you film here.”

She smirked. “You seen my stuff?” she said, rolling onto her stomach. The hem of her shorts pulled so high I could see the white outline of her thong.

“Yeah, actually. Discovered your content last night.”

She grinned, pleased. “Which one?”

“Uh, the, uh, dildo one. And the plug thing. And… all of them, honestly.”

She propped her chin in her hands. “The internet is wild, right? I never even told anyone my username.”

I shrugged, heart in my throat. “I recognized you straight away.”

She bit her lip, eyes narrowing, as if she were looking through me. “So, you like anal?”

“I think you’re the only person alive who could take a thing that thick.”

She laughed. “I get that a lot.”

I felt the need to say something, anything, before I died of embarrassment. “You ever, uh… try it for real? With a guy?”

She rolled onto her back, arms above her head, and arched one eyebrow. “You offering?”

For a second, I didn’t believe she was serious. She must have seen the look on my face, because she sat up and hooked her finger at me.

“Come here,” she said.

I stepped forward. She reached for my waistband and tugged my shorts down just enough to see the outline of my cock.

“Damn,” she said, “you’re bigger than most of my toys.”

I half-laughed, not knowing what to do with my hands.

She got up on her knees and leaned in. “If I let you fuck my ass, you gotta do me a favor.”

“Anything,” I said.

She grinned, wolfish. “Help me film one for my page. I get more subs when there’s a real dick. And I’ll give you the best experience of your life.”

She said it like it was no big deal, like we were swapping homework answers. I nodded, dumbstruck, and she grabbed a bottle of lube from her nightstand. It was twice the size of my shampoo.

She took off her sweatshirt in one move, freeing her tits with a soft bounce, then shimmied her shorts down her hips. She wore nothing underneath. Her ass looked exactly as it did online: plump, tan and a perfect dimple over the left cheek. Her ass was smooth enough to shine, and just below those perfect cheeks, the pink of her pussy was impossible to ignore. She handed me her phone. “Just keep it steady and point it at my hole,” she said, then crawled onto the bed and raised her ass high.

She lubed up her fingers and worked them inside herself, slow and methodical. She explained to the “audience” what she was doing, her voice equal parts sexy and clinical.

“Gotta get ready for the main event,” she said, winking at the phone. Then she took out her old standby, a pink silicone plug as thick as her forearm, and slid it in, inch by inch, until it bottomed out and made her gasp. She held it there, flexed, then worked it loose with a pop that made my cock twitch.

She looked over her shoulder at me, eyes dark and hungry. “You ever done this before?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No. Not even close.”

She grinned. “Then you’re in for a treat. Just go slow at first. And use lots of this.” She squirted a gob of lube into her palm and handed the bottle to me.

I climbed on the bed, phone still recording, and lined myself up behind her. She reached back, spread her cheeks wide, and waited. I pressed the head of my cock to her opening and felt it twitch. She was hot, slick and tight even after all the prep.

She moaned. “Fuck, you’re huge. Go slow, or I’ll rip in half.”

I did as told, pushing in an inch at a time, watching as her asshole stretched around me. She talked me through it, calling out every sensation, every catch of breath and every time I had to stop and wait for her to relax. I could barely hold the phone steady.

Halfway in, she let out a sharp gasp and grabbed my wrist. “Hold it there. Let me get used to it.”

I stopped, feeling her pulse around me. She looked back and licked her lips. “Keep going.”

I pushed deeper, my cock swallowed by her, until my hips were pressed to her ass and there was nowhere left to go. She whimpered, but it was the good kind, and reached under herself to rub her clit.

“Fuck… you’re so deep,” she gasped. “Hold still for a second. Let me feel all of you.”

I stayed buried to the hilt, my cock throbbing inside the tightest, hottest place I had ever been. Her ass pulsed around me, squeezing and relaxing like it was trying to pull me even deeper. The heat was insane, a silky, velvet grip that made my head spin.

Lila breathed through it, then slowly started rocking back against me. “Okay… start fucking. Nice and deep. I want to feel every inch.”

I pulled back until just the head remained inside her stretched ring, then slid forward again, watching my cock disappear between her perfect cheeks. The lube made everything slick and obscene. Each thrust was smoother than the last, and soon I was fucking her with long, deliberate strokes, bottoming out every time. The phone in my hand shook, but I kept it pointed at the point where we were joined.

“God, yes,” she moaned, pushing back to meet me. “Deeper. Really give it to me.”

I gripped her hip with my free hand and started driving harder. The wet, filthy sound of my cock sliding in and out of her ass filled the room. Her cheeks rippled with every impact. I could see her tight ring stretched shiny and pink around my thickness, gripping me like it never wanted to let go.

Lila’s moans got louder. She rubbed her clit faster, her back arching beautifully. “Don’t stop… fuck my ass just like that. You’re so deep, baby.”

The sensation was overwhelming. Her ass was tighter and hotter than anything I’d ever imagined. Every thrust dragged along her walls, the pressure incredible. I could feel her body surrendering more with each stroke, taking me deeper than I thought possible.

I set the phone on the nightstand, angled so it still captured everything, and grabbed both her hips. I started fucking her harder, faster, the slap of skin on skin growing louder. Lila cried out, pushing back to meet every thrust, her ass rippling as I pounded into her.

“Yes! Right there, fuck, you’re hitting so deep!”

I lost myself in the ass fucking. The feeling of her tight ring sliding up and down my shaft, the way her insides clenched and fluttered around me, the sight of her perfect ass bouncing against my hips, it was too much. I could feel my balls tightening, the orgasm building fast.

Ten more anal strokes, and I slammed into her as deep as I could go and came hard. My cock pulsed violently, shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside her ass. I kept thrusting through it, grinding against her, pumping every drop into her tight hole. The sensation of cumming raw in her ass while the phone recorded it was unreal.

Lila moaned loudly as she felt me unloading inside her. Her own orgasm hit right after, her ass clenching around my cock, milking every last spurt. She rubbed her clit furiously, body shaking as she came with me buried to the hilt.

We stayed locked together for a long moment, both panting. I could feel my cum leaking out around my cock as I slowly softened inside her. When I finally pulled out, a thick white trickle oozed from her stretched hole, dripping down her thigh. Lila reached back, spread her cheeks, and I fetched her phone to get a perfect close-up of my cum leaking from her well-fucked ass.

“Well?” she said, sitting up, my cum leaking down her thigh.

“Holy shit,” I said, still catching my breath. “That was…”

She laughed and wiped herself off with a towel. “Best favor you ever did for a neighbor?”

“Not even close,” I said, grinning.

She winked. “Let’s make it a weekly thing, then. I get more followers, you get to wreck my ass.”

She tossed the towel at me, and I caught it, still half-hard.

She was right, the internet was wild. But real life, at least for the moment, was even better.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

Nadia liked to fuck dirty. I’d never met a woman who made me feel so wanted, like every part of me was a treat she couldn’t wait to unwrap and devour. We’d been married seven months and, even with the honeymoon long over, she was still insatiable. Our favorite spot was her ass. It was the first thing I’d noticed about her, and I’m not proud of that, but it wasn’t something you could ignore. She was built like a fertility goddess, with the kind of hips and curves that made my hands look small. Her ass was a religion, and I worshiped it daily.

So that night, when she padded into our room wearing just one of my old college tees and a grin, I knew what she wanted. She bent over the bed and pulled the hem up, baring herself. No panties, of course. Her skin was already flushed, thighs tight and trembling a little, even before I touched her.

“Did you lock the door?” she said, glancing back.

“Why would I?” I asked, stroking her cheeks apart. The pale round of her ass framed her puckered star, just begging. “Amy’s old enough to know to knock.”

Amy was her daughter and now my stepdaughter. Nadia snorted. “You have more faith in her than I do.”

Spreading lube along my shaft, I slid my cock along the seam of her ass, not even pretending to tease. She whimpered, arching her back and said, “Don’t go slow. I want it rough tonight.”

I gripped her hips, aimed, and pushed in, meeting her with a little resistance. She gasped, the noise half-pain and half-dirty joy. We’d worked up to this over months, but she always liked the initial stretch. I filled her inch by inch, watching her back arch, her hands clutching the comforter in fists. The air was thick with the smell of her, her need and the wet slap of my thighs against her skin.

“Fuck, yes, Danny, just like that,” she moaned. “God, I love your cock in my ass.”

She was louder than usual, but I didn’t care. I loved her this way: uninhibited and greedy for every inch I could give her. I started pounding harder, bracing myself on her lower back, the pressure building as her muscles squeezed me tight.

“Give it to me,” she said. “All the way. Don’t hold back.”

It was a command, not a request, and I answered by slamming into her, bottoming out with a wet pop. She moaned, the sound muffled into the pillow. I was seconds from coming when I heard a small gasp at the door. My head whipped around, and there was Amy, framed in the crack of light from the hallway.

She just stood there, eyes wide as plates, frozen mid-step in her pajamas. Her chestnut hair was a mess, and her face had that baby-smoothness that still shocked me sometimes. Nineteen, but she looked even younger with the freckles and pink cheeks. And right now, she was looking directly at where my cock disappeared into her mom’s ass.

Nadia saw her, too. “Jesus, Amy! Get out!” she snapped, breathless.

Amy blinked, mouth still open. “Sorry, I didn’t—” She spun around and vanished down the hall. The door slammed, but not all the way, leaving an inch gap.

I pulled out, but Nadia just reached behind and grabbed my cock, yanking me back into place.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “You’re not done.”

That was all it took. I drove into her again, harder than before. My body was on fire. I came in thick, shuddering spurts, collapsing over her as she squeezed every drop from me. She laughed and said, “Guess she knows what real sex looks like now.”

We stayed like that, tangled and sweating, until I finally pulled out. Cum oozed from her gaping hole, the sight as obscene as it was hot. Nadia twisted, sat up, and kissed me hard.

“You owe her a talk,” she said. “Tomorrow. She’s probably scarred for life.”

“Yeah,” I said, though I doubted Amy would ever look at me the same.

Nadia rolled her eyes, wiped herself with a tissue, and padded off to the bathroom. I fell back on the bed and tried to process what had just happened. Part of me wanted to feel like a failure as a parent. The bigger part just felt incredibly alive.

***

The following morning, Amy didn’t talk to me at breakfast. She sat at the kitchen island, scrolling her phone, picking at the yogurt and granola Nadia had left out. She wore one of my old t-shirts over gym shorts. She avoided my eyes, but every time I got up to grab something, she stiffened.

I’d known her for two years, and we’d lived together for seven months, and there’d always been an easy, almost conspiratorial closeness. Not like real father and daughter, her actual dad was a lawyer out in Tempe, barely called, but more like roommates who secretly enjoyed each other’s company. After the divorce, I’d been her only real constant. Now, she kept her head down and spooned yogurt like she was trying not to throw up.

I sat across from her. “Amy, about last night—”

She cut me off. “Don’t. I’m not a little kid.” She looked up, hazel eyes darting over my face, then away. “I know what sex is, okay?”

I forced a laugh, though my cheeks burned. “Not everyone’s into what your mom likes.”

She snorted, barely audible. “You mean, in the ass?” Her lips curled, not mocking but intrigued.

“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “Sorry you had to see that.”

She stared at the fridge, not speaking. Then, she said, “Did it hurt her?”

I shook my head. “No, she loves it. I’d never do anything to hurt her.” I paused. “Or you.”

Amy rolled her eyes, but the edge had softened. “That’s not what I mean. Just…” She twirled her spoon. “Why do people like it? Isn’t it gross?”

I hesitated. This was not a conversation I wanted to have before nine in the morning. But Amy had always been curious, and it was better coming from me than a random Reddit thread.

“Some people like the feeling,” I said, trying to sound clinical. “It’s intense. For a lot of women, it’s where the nerves are most sensitive. And, uh, for guys, being inside is… tighter.” I regretted the last word the second I said it.

She blushed, her freckles vanishing into red. “So you like it, too?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Your mom makes it hard not to.”

Amy chewed her bottom lip, thinking. “Did she always do that? Even with my dad?”

The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know. She never talked about it.”

Amy nodded. She scraped her bowl, then slid off the stool. “I’m going to the gym,” she mumbled, grabbing her keys. “See you later.”

I watched her go, feeling something complicated twist inside me.

*****

The rest of the week, Amy was distant but not rude. She texted from her room or hung out at the community pool with friends, came home late and did her own laundry. I tried to let it pass, hoping she’d just erase the memory and move on. But the following Friday, after Nadia left for a three-day work conference, I found Amy sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open to a shopping site.

She looked up when I walked in. “Can I ask you something weird?” she said.

“Go for it.”

She turned the screen. “I want to buy something but it needs your credit card.”

On the page was a pink silicone butt plug, shaped like a little tulip. There was a matching bottle of lube and a book called Beginner’s Guide to Anal Play.

I tried to play it cool. “Is this a prank?”

She blushed, shaking her head. “No. I mean… I know it’s weird. I just, I want to try. And I’m not going to ask Mom. She’d never let me live it down.”

“Why does it need my credit card exactly?”

She blushed deeper. “I can’t afford it.”

I tried to picture Amy in the same position I’d seen Nadia, bent over, cheeks spread. The image made my stomach flutter. “It’s your body,” I said, finally. “But, um, you should be careful. You know, start small.”

She made a face. “I read the reviews. Some people started too big and it was a disaster.”

I laughed, despite myself. “Okay. But maybe buy something less…” I scrolled the page and found a smaller, less aggressive looking one. “Start with this.”

Amy grinned. She clicked add to cart.

I typed in my card info, feeling like the world’s worst stepdad. “Let me know if you need any… help,” I said, instantly regretting it.

Amy closed the laptop. “Maybe I will,” she said, with a wink that was both innocent and completely not.

*****

The package arrived on the following day, and Amy opened it in the living room, right in front of me. She took the box out, turned the plug over in her hands, and said, “It’s smaller than I thought.”

“Do you want me to show you how to use it?” I asked, only half joking.

She looked at me, eyes huge. “Would you?”

“Sure,” I said, keeping my tone light. “You want a demo?”

Amy’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She clutched the box to her chest. “My room?”

I nodded, a knot forming in my stomach. This was crossing a line, but I told myself I was just helping her learn safely. That’s what stepfathers do, right?

She led the way down the hall. When we reached her bedroom, I paused at the threshold while she bounced onto her bed, already tearing open the packaging.

“Come in,” she said. “I’m not going to bite.”

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, feeling the weight of what I was about to do. Amy had already pulled out the small silicone plug and was examining it with curious fingers.

“So how do I…?” she trailed off.

“You’ll need the lube,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “And privacy.”

She nodded, then stood up. Without warning, she turned around, bent over slightly and pulled her gym shorts down. Her panties followed, exposing her round, perfect ass. It was smaller than Nadia’s but just as perfectly shaped, two flawless half-moons, pale and smooth except for a light dusting of freckles across the tops of her cheeks.

“Like this?” she asked innocently, glancing back over her shoulder.

Between her legs, I caught a glimpse of her pussy, pink, tight, with a neat triangle of chestnut hair above. I forced myself to look away, but not before the image burned itself into my brain.

“You should, um, lie on your side,” I said. “It’ll be easier the first time.”

She obeyed, pulling her shorts completely off and lying on the bed. I sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance.

“First, put lube on the plug and your… entrance,” I said. “Be generous.”

She fumbled with the bottle, squeezing too much onto her fingers. “Like this?”

“Yeah, now reach behind and just press it against yourself. Don’t force it.”

I watched as she reached between her cheeks, her face concentrated. She gasped slightly when her fingers made contact.

“Cold,” she murmured.

“Take your time,” I said. “Relax and breathe.”

After a moment of fumbling, she looked up at me with frustration. “I can’t see what I’m doing. Can you help me?”

Jesus Christ, I should have said no. I should have walked out. Instead, I took the plug from her hand, applied more lube, and positioned myself behind her.

“This might feel strange,” I told her, pressing the tip against her tight rosebud. “Just push out a little.”

She nodded, her breathing quick. I pressed gently, and to my surprise, her body accepted the plug easily. It slipped in with a soft pop, leaving only the flared base visible.

“Oh!” she gasped. “That’s… different.”

“How does it feel?” I asked, my voice husky.

“Full, but good.” She rolled her hips experimentally. “How long should I leave it in?”

“Start with fifteen minutes,” I said, moving back to a safer distance. “Then thirty next time. Work up to an hour.”

She sat up carefully, wincing slightly as the plug shifted inside her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright.

“Do you have a boyfriend you’re planning to try this with?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not right now. But guys seem to like it, right? I want to be prepared.”

“Smart,” I said, nodding. “Most guys would appreciate that.”

She bit her lip, looking at me through her lashes. “Could you help me with the dildo too? I’m not sure how to use it after the plug.”

My cock twitched in my jeans. This was getting dangerous. “Let’s try the plug first,” I said. “If you’re comfortable with that, we can try the next step.”

She pouted but agreed. We sat talking for a few more minutes, which was a bit awkward, about school and her friends, while she adjusted to the sensation. After fifteen minutes, she squirmed.

“I think I’m ready to take it out now.”

I helped her onto her hands and knees. “Bear down a little,” I instructed, gripping the base of the plug. I pulled gently, and it slid out with minimal resistance.

My breath caught in my throat. Her asshole gaped slightly before slowly closing, a perfect pink star, glistening with lube. My cock was fully hard now, straining against my zipper.

“Can we try the dildo?” she asked, looking back at me with those innocent eyes.

I reached for the lube, my hands shaking slightly. “We’ll need more of this.”

Just as I was about to squeeze some onto my fingers, we heard the sound of tires on gravel outside … Nadia’s car.

“Your mom’s home early,” I said.

Amy rolled her eyes. “So typical.”

I quickly handed her the plug and lube. “This stays between us, okay? Your mom would kill me.”

She nodded, disappointment clear on her face. “Yeah, of course, our secret.”

*****

The following day, Nadia would stay over at her sister’s place. She kissed me goodbye at the door. “I’ll be back Sunday night,” she said. “My sister needs help with the move, and I figure I can just stay over.”

“No problem,” I said, pulling her close for another kiss. “Don’t worry about us.”

“I’ll send you some pics tonight,” she whispered, her hand brushing over my crotch. “Something to keep you company while I’m gone.”

I groaned. “You spoil me.”

“Just be nice to Amy,” she added, grabbing her overnight bag. “She’s been quiet lately. Maybe do a movie night or something?”

“Of course,” I promised, feeling a twinge of guilt. If only she knew what her daughter had been up to with me.

After Nadia drove away, I spent the afternoon cleaning the living room, trying to keep my mind occupied with mundane tasks. Around seven, I heard Amy’s bedroom door open. She padded downstairs while I was cleaning.

“So,” she said, leaning against the counter. “Mom’s gone all weekend.”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“I was thinking…” Her voice dropped lower. “Maybe we could continue where we left off? With the toys?”

“Amy, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not? I’ve been practicing with the plug. I’m getting really good at it.”

She was wearing cotton shorts and a tank top. Nothing provocative, but my body responded anyway.

“This isn’t right,” I said weakly.

“I want to learn,” she insisted. “And I trust you more than some random guy.”

My resolve was crumbling. I knew I should say no, should be the responsible adult, but the image of her bent over, waiting for me to guide her, was overwhelming.

“Fine,” I said. “But just the dildo. That’s it.”

Her face lit up. “Come to my room in ten minutes.”

I finished cleaning, and when I finally walked down the hall to her bedroom, I found the door slightly ajar. I pushed it open. Amy was on her bed, on all fours, shorts pulled down to her thighs. The base of the pink plug was visible between her cheeks. “Jesus,” I muttered, closing the door behind me.

“I’ve had it in for an hour,” she said proudly. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

I approached the bed, my heart hammering. “That’s… good. You’re learning fast.”

She wiggled her ass slightly. “Can you take it out? I want to try the dildo now.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and placed my hand on her lower back. “Bear down a little,” I instructed, gripping the base of the plug. I pulled gently, and it slid out with a gentle pop.

I took the dildo, slicked it generously with lube and pressed the tip against her still-gaping hole. She inhaled sharply, ass cheeks tensing, then relaxed as I pushed slowly. The toy slid in easier than the plug, her body already stretched and excited. I watched it disappear inch by inch, the silicone stretching her pink rim wider, the lube making it glisten. She moaned low, hips rocking back to take more, her pussy dripping below.

“Feels… good,” she said. “Deeper.”

I worked it in and out, slow strokes at first, letting her feel every ridge. Her ass gripped the toy tightly, clinging on the pull-back, then opening eagerly for each push. The sight was hypnotic: her round cheeks parted, the dildo sliding smoothly and her hole stretched and shiny. She whimpered, fingers clutching the sheets, pushing back harder.

“Is that alright?”

“Yeah, but stop.”

I did, and I pulled the dildo out with a wet pop, her hole gaping for a second before clenching shut. “You alright?”

“Do you think, uhm, could we do the real thing?”

“Amy, we’re taking this too far.”

“Please?” she pleaded. “I promise I won’t tell Mom.”

I mulled it over. I was rock hard, and her ass was already right in front of me, prepared and slick with lube. I badly wanted to kiss her cheeks, lick her crack and push my cock inside. Besides, Nadia wasn’t home today, and I wasn’t a fan of masturbating. “You promise you won’t tell your mother?”

“Of course!” she said. “She’d probably kill me too.”

I leaned in, kissing one cheek then the other. Her skin was warm, smooth and tasting of soap and her natural sweetness. She was delicious and sweet. I kissed along the crack, tongue flicking out to trace the sensitive skin, circling her puckered hole. She moaned, pushing back against my face.

“God, that tickles!”

I continued. Tongue flat against her hole, slow circles, then pressing inside just the tip. She trembled, ass cheeks quivering around my face. I licked deeper, tongue sliding in and out, tasting her clean, musky warmth. My hands spread her wider, thumbs pulling her open as I rimmed her thoroughly, making her wet and relaxed.

She was panting now, hips rocking. “That was nice … But I want your cock too!”

“I’ll give it to you.” I grabbed the lube, slicked my cock generously then pressed the head to her hole. The resistance was intense, her ring tight, unyielding at first. I pushed gently, feeling the muscle give way with a soft pop as the head slipped inside. She gasped, fingers clutching the sheets. “Oh fuck… it’s so big,” she whimpered. “Slow…”

I held still, letting her adjust. The tightness was unbelievable, and felt even better than her mother’s ass. I pushed deeper, inch by inch, feeling her walls stretch around me and clinging desperately. The friction was intense, every ridge of me dragging against her smooth inner walls. When I bottomed out, hips flush against her ass, she moaned long and low, body trembling.

“So full… God, it feels so good.”

I started fucking her, slow, shallow thrusts at first. Her ass gripped me on every withdrawal, reluctant to let go, then opened eagerly for each push back in. The sensation was raw, intimate, and hotter and tighter than anything I’d felt with Nadia. Her cheeks jiggled with each thrust, the pale skin flushing pink from the impact. Her chestnut hair spilled across her back, swaying with the rhythm.

The slap of skin on skin, her moans and my grunts were pure animal need. But I pulled out suddenly, cock slick and throbbing. “Turn over. I want to see your face.”

She flipped onto her back, legs spread wide, knees drawn up. She was breathtaking: full, perky breasts heaving with each breath, nipples hard and pink, stomach flat, pussy glistening and that perfect round ass lifted slightly off the bed. Her chestnut hair fanned across the pillow, face flushed, eyes dark with lust.

I lined up again, pushed into her ass in missionary. I watched her face twist with pleasure-pain as I sank in, her tits bouncing with every thrust. I leaned down, sucking one nipple while I fucked her steadily, feeling her ass clench around me.

“You like that?” I growled, driving deeper. “Taking your stepdad’s cock in your tight little ass?”

“Yes… oh god, yes,” she whimpered, legs locked around my waist, heels digging into my lower back. “It’s so big… I can feel every inch splitting me open. Don’t stop… ruin my ass, Daddy.”

I sped up, hips snapping, the angle letting me go impossibly deep. Her ass clenched around me on every withdrawal, gripping like it never wanted to let me go, then opened wide for each brutal push. The wet sounds were filth, lube and her own slickness making sloppy, obscene slaps as I pounded into her.

“Beg for it,” I said, voice rough. “Beg your stepdad to fill your ass.”

“Please,” she said, nails raking my shoulders. “Come in me… pump your cum deep in my ass. I want to feel it flooding me, leaking out of me.”

Those words snapped me. I thrust hard, deep, hips slamming. She moaned, legs locking around me. My cock swelled, pulsed, and I came: thick, hot spurts flooding her ass, coating her walls, spilling deep. I groaned, hips jerking with each wave, emptying everything inside her.

When the pulses slowed, I eased out slowly. Her hole gaped slightly, then a thick stream of white cum leaked out: creamy, glistening, sliding down her crack and pooling on the sheets. She reached back, fingers spreading her cheeks wide so I could see it all: her tight pink ring coated and messy, more cum oozing out steadily, dripping down to her pussy.

She scooped some with two fingers, brought it to her lips, and sucked them clean, eyes locked on mine. “Hmm… so that’s how anal sex feels,” she whispered, voice husky. “No wonder Mom loves it so much.”

I collapsed beside her, heart hammering, watching my cum drip from her gorgeous, well-fucked ass. She curled against me, leg draped over mine, still leaking slowly onto the sheets. “It’s pretty intense,” I said, kissing her forehead. “Don’t forget your promise.”

“As long as we can do this again sometime,” she said with a filthy grin.

“I promise we will,” I said, and she kissed me back.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

Nadia liked to fuck dirty. I’d never met a woman who made me feel so wanted, like every part of me was a treat she couldn’t wait to unwrap and devour. We’d been married seven months and, even with the honeymoon long over, she was still insatiable. Our favorite spot was her ass. It was the first thing I’d noticed about her, and I’m not proud of that, but it wasn’t something you could ignore. She was built like a fertility goddess, with the kind of hips and curves that made my hands look small. Her ass was a religion, and I worshiped it daily.

So that night, when she padded into our room wearing just one of my old college tees and a grin, I knew what she wanted. She bent over the bed and pulled the hem up, baring herself. No panties, of course. Her skin was already flushed, thighs tight and trembling a little, even before I touched her.

“Did you lock the door?” she said, glancing back.

“Why would I?” I asked, stroking her cheeks apart. The pale round of her ass framed her puckered star, just begging. “Amy’s old enough to know to knock.”

Amy was her daughter and now my stepdaughter. Nadia snorted. “You have more faith in her than I do.”

Spreading lube along my shaft, I slid my cock along the seam of her ass, not even pretending to tease. She whimpered, arching her back and said, “Don’t go slow. I want it rough tonight.”

I gripped her hips, aimed, and pushed in, meeting her with a little resistance. She gasped, the noise half-pain and half-dirty joy. We’d worked up to this over months, but she always liked the initial stretch. I filled her inch by inch, watching her back arch, her hands clutching the comforter in fists. The air was thick with the smell of her, her need and the wet slap of my thighs against her skin.

“Fuck, yes, Danny, just like that,” she moaned. “God, I love your cock in my ass.”

She was louder than usual, but I didn’t care. I loved her this way: uninhibited and greedy for every inch I could give her. I started pounding harder, bracing myself on her lower back, the pressure building as her muscles squeezed me tight.

“Give it to me,” she said. “All the way. Don’t hold back.”

It was a command, not a request, and I answered by slamming into her, bottoming out with a wet pop. She moaned, the sound muffled into the pillow. I was seconds from coming when I heard a small gasp at the door. My head whipped around, and there was Amy, framed in the crack of light from the hallway.

She just stood there, eyes wide as plates, frozen mid-step in her pajamas. Her chestnut hair was a mess, and her face had that baby-smoothness that still shocked me sometimes. Nineteen, but she looked even younger with the freckles and pink cheeks. And right now, she was looking directly at where my cock disappeared into her mom’s ass.

Nadia saw her, too. “Jesus, Amy! Get out!” she snapped, breathless.

Amy blinked, mouth still open. “Sorry, I didn’t—” She spun around and vanished down the hall. The door slammed, but not all the way, leaving an inch gap.

I pulled out, but Nadia just reached behind and grabbed my cock, yanking me back into place.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “You’re not done.”

That was all it took. I drove into her again, harder than before. My body was on fire. I came in thick, shuddering spurts, collapsing over her as she squeezed every drop from me. She laughed and said, “Guess she knows what real sex looks like now.”

We stayed like that, tangled and sweating, until I finally pulled out. Cum oozed from her gaping hole, the sight as obscene as it was hot. Nadia twisted, sat up, and kissed me hard.

“You owe her a talk,” she said. “Tomorrow. She’s probably scarred for life.”

“Yeah,” I said, though I doubted Amy would ever look at me the same.

Nadia rolled her eyes, wiped herself with a tissue, and padded off to the bathroom. I fell back on the bed and tried to process what had just happened. Part of me wanted to feel like a failure as a parent. The bigger part just felt incredibly alive.

***

The following morning, Amy didn’t talk to me at breakfast. She sat at the kitchen island, scrolling her phone, picking at the yogurt and granola Nadia had left out. She wore one of my old t-shirts over gym shorts. She avoided my eyes, but every time I got up to grab something, she stiffened.

I’d known her for two years, and we’d lived together for seven months, and there’d always been an easy, almost conspiratorial closeness. Not like real father and daughter, her actual dad was a lawyer out in Tempe, barely called, but more like roommates who secretly enjoyed each other’s company. After the divorce, I’d been her only real constant. Now, she kept her head down and spooned yogurt like she was trying not to throw up.

I sat across from her. “Amy, about last night—”

She cut me off. “Don’t. I’m not a little kid.” She looked up, hazel eyes darting over my face, then away. “I know what sex is, okay?”

I forced a laugh, though my cheeks burned. “Not everyone’s into what your mom likes.”

She snorted, barely audible. “You mean, in the ass?” Her lips curled, not mocking but intrigued.

“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “Sorry you had to see that.”

She stared at the fridge, not speaking. Then, she said, “Did it hurt her?”

I shook my head. “No, she loves it. I’d never do anything to hurt her.” I paused. “Or you.”

Amy rolled her eyes, but the edge had softened. “That’s not what I mean. Just…” She twirled her spoon. “Why do people like it? Isn’t it gross?”

I hesitated. This was not a conversation I wanted to have before nine in the morning. But Amy had always been curious, and it was better coming from me than a random Reddit thread.

“Some people like the feeling,” I said, trying to sound clinical. “It’s intense. For a lot of women, it’s where the nerves are most sensitive. And, uh, for guys, being inside is… tighter.” I regretted the last word the second I said it.

She blushed, her freckles vanishing into red. “So you like it, too?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Your mom makes it hard not to.”

Amy chewed her bottom lip, thinking. “Did she always do that? Even with my dad?”

The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know. She never talked about it.”

Amy nodded. She scraped her bowl, then slid off the stool. “I’m going to the gym,” she mumbled, grabbing her keys. “See you later.”

I watched her go, feeling something complicated twist inside me.

*****

The rest of the week, Amy was distant but not rude. She texted from her room or hung out at the community pool with friends, came home late and did her own laundry. I tried to let it pass, hoping she’d just erase the memory and move on. But the following Friday, after Nadia left for a three-day work conference, I found Amy sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open to a shopping site.

She looked up when I walked in. “Can I ask you something weird?” she said.

“Go for it.”

She turned the screen. “I want to buy something but it needs your credit card.”

On the page was a pink silicone butt plug, shaped like a little tulip. There was a matching bottle of lube and a book called Beginner’s Guide to Anal Play.

I tried to play it cool. “Is this a prank?”

She blushed, shaking her head. “No. I mean… I know it’s weird. I just, I want to try. And I’m not going to ask Mom. She’d never let me live it down.”

“Why does it need my credit card exactly?”

She blushed deeper. “I can’t afford it.”

I tried to picture Amy in the same position I’d seen Nadia, bent over, cheeks spread. The image made my stomach flutter. “It’s your body,” I said, finally. “But, um, you should be careful. You know, start small.”

She made a face. “I read the reviews. Some people started too big and it was a disaster.”

I laughed, despite myself. “Okay. But maybe buy something less…” I scrolled the page and found a smaller, less aggressive looking one. “Start with this.”

Amy grinned. She clicked add to cart.

I typed in my card info, feeling like the world’s worst stepdad. “Let me know if you need any… help,” I said, instantly regretting it.

Amy closed the laptop. “Maybe I will,” she said, with a wink that was both innocent and completely not.

*****

The package arrived on the following day, and Amy opened it in the living room, right in front of me. She took the box out, turned the plug over in her hands, and said, “It’s smaller than I thought.”

“Do you want me to show you how to use it?” I asked, only half joking.

She looked at me, eyes huge. “Would you?”

“Sure,” I said, keeping my tone light. “You want a demo?”

Amy’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She clutched the box to her chest. “My room?”

I nodded, a knot forming in my stomach. This was crossing a line, but I told myself I was just helping her learn safely. That’s what stepfathers do, right?

She led the way down the hall. When we reached her bedroom, I paused at the threshold while she bounced onto her bed, already tearing open the packaging.

“Come in,” she said. “I’m not going to bite.”

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, feeling the weight of what I was about to do. Amy had already pulled out the small silicone plug and was examining it with curious fingers.

“So how do I…?” she trailed off.

“You’ll need the lube,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “And privacy.”

She nodded, then stood up. Without warning, she turned around, bent over slightly and pulled her gym shorts down. Her panties followed, exposing her round, perfect ass. It was smaller than Nadia’s but just as perfectly shaped, two flawless half-moons, pale and smooth except for a light dusting of freckles across the tops of her cheeks.

“Like this?” she asked innocently, glancing back over her shoulder.

Between her legs, I caught a glimpse of her pussy, pink, tight, with a neat triangle of chestnut hair above. I forced myself to look away, but not before the image burned itself into my brain.

“You should, um, lie on your side,” I said. “It’ll be easier the first time.”

She obeyed, pulling her shorts completely off and lying on the bed. I sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance.

“First, put lube on the plug and your… entrance,” I said. “Be generous.”

She fumbled with the bottle, squeezing too much onto her fingers. “Like this?”

“Yeah, now reach behind and just press it against yourself. Don’t force it.”

I watched as she reached between her cheeks, her face concentrated. She gasped slightly when her fingers made contact.

“Cold,” she murmured.

“Take your time,” I said. “Relax and breathe.”

After a moment of fumbling, she looked up at me with frustration. “I can’t see what I’m doing. Can you help me?”

Jesus Christ, I should have said no. I should have walked out. Instead, I took the plug from her hand, applied more lube, and positioned myself behind her.

“This might feel strange,” I told her, pressing the tip against her tight rosebud. “Just push out a little.”

She nodded, her breathing quick. I pressed gently, and to my surprise, her body accepted the plug easily. It slipped in with a soft pop, leaving only the flared base visible.

“Oh!” she gasped. “That’s… different.”

“How does it feel?” I asked, my voice husky.

“Full, but good.” She rolled her hips experimentally. “How long should I leave it in?”

“Start with fifteen minutes,” I said, moving back to a safer distance. “Then thirty next time. Work up to an hour.”

She sat up carefully, wincing slightly as the plug shifted inside her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright.

“Do you have a boyfriend you’re planning to try this with?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not right now. But guys seem to like it, right? I want to be prepared.”

“Smart,” I said, nodding. “Most guys would appreciate that.”

She bit her lip, looking at me through her lashes. “Could you help me with the dildo too? I’m not sure how to use it after the plug.”

My cock twitched in my jeans. This was getting dangerous. “Let’s try the plug first,” I said. “If you’re comfortable with that, we can try the next step.”

She pouted but agreed. We sat talking for a few more minutes, which was a bit awkward, about school and her friends, while she adjusted to the sensation. After fifteen minutes, she squirmed.

“I think I’m ready to take it out now.”

I helped her onto her hands and knees. “Bear down a little,” I instructed, gripping the base of the plug. I pulled gently, and it slid out with minimal resistance.

My breath caught in my throat. Her asshole gaped slightly before slowly closing, a perfect pink star, glistening with lube. My cock was fully hard now, straining against my zipper.

“Can we try the dildo?” she asked, looking back at me with those innocent eyes.

I reached for the lube, my hands shaking slightly. “We’ll need more of this.”

Just as I was about to squeeze some onto my fingers, we heard the sound of tires on gravel outside … Nadia’s car.

“Your mom’s home early,” I said.

Amy rolled her eyes. “So typical.”

I quickly handed her the plug and lube. “This stays between us, okay? Your mom would kill me.”

She nodded, disappointment clear on her face. “Yeah, of course, our secret.”

*****

The following day, Nadia would stay over at her sister’s place. She kissed me goodbye at the door. “I’ll be back Sunday night,” she said. “My sister needs help with the move, and I figure I can just stay over.”

“No problem,” I said, pulling her close for another kiss. “Don’t worry about us.”

“I’ll send you some pics tonight,” she whispered, her hand brushing over my crotch. “Something to keep you company while I’m gone.”

I groaned. “You spoil me.”

“Just be nice to Amy,” she added, grabbing her overnight bag. “She’s been quiet lately. Maybe do a movie night or something?”

“Of course,” I promised, feeling a twinge of guilt. If only she knew what her daughter had been up to with me.

After Nadia drove away, I spent the afternoon cleaning the living room, trying to keep my mind occupied with mundane tasks. Around seven, I heard Amy’s bedroom door open. She padded downstairs while I was cleaning.

“So,” she said, leaning against the counter. “Mom’s gone all weekend.”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“I was thinking…” Her voice dropped lower. “Maybe we could continue where we left off? With the toys?”

“Amy, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not? I’ve been practicing with the plug. I’m getting really good at it.”

She was wearing cotton shorts and a tank top. Nothing provocative, but my body responded anyway.

“This isn’t right,” I said weakly.

“I want to learn,” she insisted. “And I trust you more than some random guy.”

My resolve was crumbling. I knew I should say no, should be the responsible adult, but the image of her bent over, waiting for me to guide her, was overwhelming.

“Fine,” I said. “But just the dildo. That’s it.”

Her face lit up. “Come to my room in ten minutes.”

I finished cleaning, and when I finally walked down the hall to her bedroom, I found the door slightly ajar. I pushed it open. Amy was on her bed, on all fours, shorts pulled down to her thighs. The base of the pink plug was visible between her cheeks. “Jesus,” I muttered, closing the door behind me.

“I’ve had it in for an hour,” she said proudly. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

I approached the bed, my heart hammering. “That’s… good. You’re learning fast.”

She wiggled her ass slightly. “Can you take it out? I want to try the dildo now.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and placed my hand on her lower back. “Bear down a little,” I instructed, gripping the base of the plug. I pulled gently, and it slid out with a gentle pop.

I took the dildo, slicked it generously with lube and pressed the tip against her still-gaping hole. She inhaled sharply, ass cheeks tensing, then relaxed as I pushed slowly. The toy slid in easier than the plug, her body already stretched and excited. I watched it disappear inch by inch, the silicone stretching her pink rim wider, the lube making it glisten. She moaned low, hips rocking back to take more, her pussy dripping below.

“Feels… good,” she said. “Deeper.”

I worked it in and out, slow strokes at first, letting her feel every ridge. Her ass gripped the toy tightly, clinging on the pull-back, then opening eagerly for each push. The sight was hypnotic: her round cheeks parted, the dildo sliding smoothly and her hole stretched and shiny. She whimpered, fingers clutching the sheets, pushing back harder.

“Is that alright?”

“Yeah, but stop.”

I did, and I pulled the dildo out with a wet pop, her hole gaping for a second before clenching shut. “You alright?”

“Do you think, uhm, could we do the real thing?”

“Amy, we’re taking this too far.”

“Please?” she pleaded. “I promise I won’t tell Mom.”

I mulled it over. I was rock hard, and her ass was already right in front of me, prepared and slick with lube. I badly wanted to kiss her cheeks, lick her crack and push my cock inside. Besides, Nadia wasn’t home today, and I wasn’t a fan of masturbating. “You promise you won’t tell your mother?”

“Of course!” she said. “She’d probably kill me too.”

I leaned in, kissing one cheek then the other. Her skin was warm, smooth and tasting of soap and her natural sweetness. She was delicious and sweet. I kissed along the crack, tongue flicking out to trace the sensitive skin, circling her puckered hole. She moaned, pushing back against my face.

“God, that tickles!”

I continued. Tongue flat against her hole, slow circles, then pressing inside just the tip. She trembled, ass cheeks quivering around my face. I licked deeper, tongue sliding in and out, tasting her clean, musky warmth. My hands spread her wider, thumbs pulling her open as I rimmed her thoroughly, making her wet and relaxed.

She was panting now, hips rocking. “That was nice … But I want your cock too!”

“I’ll give it to you.” I grabbed the lube, slicked my cock generously then pressed the head to her hole. The resistance was intense, her ring tight, unyielding at first. I pushed gently, feeling the muscle give way with a soft pop as the head slipped inside. She gasped, fingers clutching the sheets. “Oh fuck… it’s so big,” she whimpered. “Slow…”

I held still, letting her adjust. The tightness was unbelievable, and felt even better than her mother’s ass. I pushed deeper, inch by inch, feeling her walls stretch around me and clinging desperately. The friction was intense, every ridge of me dragging against her smooth inner walls. When I bottomed out, hips flush against her ass, she moaned long and low, body trembling.

“So full… God, it feels so good.”

I started fucking her, slow, shallow thrusts at first. Her ass gripped me on every withdrawal, reluctant to let go, then opened eagerly for each push back in. The sensation was raw, intimate, and hotter and tighter than anything I’d felt with Nadia. Her cheeks jiggled with each thrust, the pale skin flushing pink from the impact. Her chestnut hair spilled across her back, swaying with the rhythm.

The slap of skin on skin, her moans and my grunts were pure animal need. But I pulled out suddenly, cock slick and throbbing. “Turn over. I want to see your face.”

She flipped onto her back, legs spread wide, knees drawn up. She was breathtaking: full, perky breasts heaving with each breath, nipples hard and pink, stomach flat, pussy glistening and that perfect round ass lifted slightly off the bed. Her chestnut hair fanned across the pillow, face flushed, eyes dark with lust.

I lined up again, pushed into her ass in missionary. I watched her face twist with pleasure-pain as I sank in, her tits bouncing with every thrust. I leaned down, sucking one nipple while I fucked her steadily, feeling her ass clench around me.

“You like that?” I growled, driving deeper. “Taking your stepdad’s cock in your tight little ass?”

“Yes… oh god, yes,” she whimpered, legs locked around my waist, heels digging into my lower back. “It’s so big… I can feel every inch splitting me open. Don’t stop… ruin my ass, Daddy.”

I sped up, hips snapping, the angle letting me go impossibly deep. Her ass clenched around me on every withdrawal, gripping like it never wanted to let me go, then opened wide for each brutal push. The wet sounds were filth, lube and her own slickness making sloppy, obscene slaps as I pounded into her.

“Beg for it,” I said, voice rough. “Beg your stepdad to fill your ass.”

“Please,” she said, nails raking my shoulders. “Come in me… pump your cum deep in my ass. I want to feel it flooding me, leaking out of me.”

Those words snapped me. I thrust hard, deep, hips slamming. She moaned, legs locking around me. My cock swelled, pulsed, and I came: thick, hot spurts flooding her ass, coating her walls, spilling deep. I groaned, hips jerking with each wave, emptying everything inside her.

When the pulses slowed, I eased out slowly. Her hole gaped slightly, then a thick stream of white cum leaked out: creamy, glistening, sliding down her crack and pooling on the sheets. She reached back, fingers spreading her cheeks wide so I could see it all: her tight pink ring coated and messy, more cum oozing out steadily, dripping down to her pussy.

She scooped some with two fingers, brought it to her lips, and sucked them clean, eyes locked on mine. “Hmm… so that’s how anal sex feels,” she whispered, voice husky. “No wonder Mom loves it so much.”

I collapsed beside her, heart hammering, watching my cum drip from her gorgeous, well-fucked ass. She curled against me, leg draped over mine, still leaking slowly onto the sheets. “It’s pretty intense,” I said, kissing her forehead. “Don’t forget your promise.”

“As long as we can do this again sometime,” she said with a filthy grin.

“I promise we will,” I said, and she kissed me back.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

“You don’t mind if Chloe stays the weekend, right?” Sophia, my sweet nineteen-year-old daughter, called from the living room, not even looking up from her phone. She was curled into the corner of the couch, legs tucked up under her and toes wiggling in pink fuzzy socks.

Chloe was her best friend, and a beautiful teen just like my daughter.

“Chloe’s always welcome here,” I said. “As long as you two don’t destroy the place.”

Sophia rolled her eyes and flicked me a half-hearted finger. “We won’t. We’re gonna chill by the pool, maybe watch movies, whatever.” She went back to texting, thumbs moving at a rate that had to be unsustainable for long-term joint health.

Jeanette, my wife, poked her head around the corner, purse already slung on her arm. “I’m heading out to see my sister. I’ll crash at her place,” she called. “Text if you need anything, honey.” Her gaze lingered on me. “And you, please don’t let them burn down the house.” She always said that, as if I were some kind of pyromaniac babysitter, as if she hadn’t been married to me for almost twenty years and seen that I only burned food, not buildings.

“Got it, boss,” I said. She grinned and crossed to me, up on tiptoes. She kissed my cheek. Then she was at Sophia, hugging her.

“Be good. And say hi to Chloe for me. Tell her I’ll kick her ass at Uno next time.”

Sophia giggled. “You wish, Mom.”

Jeanette was out the door before I could say another word, high heels clicking down the driveway, the click fading until it was just Sophia and me in the house … and soon Chloe. Perfect timing. My wife was gone, and Sophia’s best friend would be here soon. That didn’t happen often.

I stood at the window and watched my wife’s car back out. For the first time in months, I was struck by how little I missed her when she was gone, how much easier it was to breathe in this house when the only thing I had to answer to was my daughter’s random moods. Our marriage was still going well, but sometimes I missed someone younger, perhaps someone more forbidden.

*****

After half an hour, Chloe’s battered Honda Civic pulled into the drive, parking half on the grass as usual. The world shifted a little bit. I didn’t let myself think about why.

She sprang from the car like a gymnast, long blonde hair caught in a ponytail, bare legs pale and gleaming under the porch light. She was in those shorts, again, the ones that barely qualified as legal, and a white crop top so tight I wondered if she needed to exhale before putting it on. A tiny blue backpack hung off one shoulder.

She knocked, and Sophia jumped to her feet, running to the door. “Chloe!” Sophia said and threw her arms around her, and they did their usual shriek-and-bounce routine. I tried not to stare, but Chloe’s ass looked painted onto her, every little muscle line visible when she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“Hi, Mark!” she said, after breaking the hug and pushing past Sophia and pinning me with a look. She came right up to me and hugged me, arms tight and her breasts squished comfortably against my chest. There was nothing accidental about the contact. She lingered, and I was painfully aware of her body heat and her vanilla-coconut scent.

“Hi, Chloe.”

She whispered, “Missed you,” soft enough I almost thought I’d imagined it.

Sophia rolled her eyes, grinning. “Chloe, stop flirting with my dad.”

Chloe disengaged but winked at me, turning away before I could react. “He’s my backup dad. I gotta get my fix.”

Sophia snorted and punched her lightly on the shoulder. “You’re so weird.”

They talked about hopping into the pool, and they disappeared to the downstairs bathroom to change. I sat outside on a sun bed, wondering if I should feel guilty for being as aware of Chloe as I was. I tried to remember what it felt like to be nineteen and have the world falling all over itself for you. Even when I was that age, I didn’t have the same level of sheer physical confidence that these girls did.

The sliding door rattled open, and they trooped out, giggling. Chloe wore a red bikini that was maybe two square inches of fabric; the rest was just thin string. Her breasts barely fit, nipples threatening to escape every time she moved. The bottoms rode so high on her hips that I could see a deep V where her pelvic bones met, and the triangle in front might as well have been an arrow pointing down. Sophia’s suit was a standard two-piece, blue with white polka dots, cute, innocent, and safe. Chloe looked like she belonged in a music video. She spun and bent over to grab a towel, ass in the air, and every detail outlined.

“Mark,” she called, “can you help me with sunscreen?”

“Sure thing.” I almost said no. I almost got up and walked inside. Instead, I grabbed the bottle from the table and moved to where she stood, back turned, hair swept over one shoulder.

“Thanks,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, eyes sly. “I burn really easy.”

Her skin was smooth under my hands. I rubbed the lotion in slow, careful circles, starting at her shoulders, working down her arms. She hummed, arching her back, pushing her ass against my leg. I moved lower, to her lower back, fingers grazing her red bikini.

She shivered.

“Cold?” I asked.

“Sensitive.” She turned to face me, then, her face just inches from mine, lips parted.

Sophia cannonballed into the pool, splashing us both. Chloe laughed and shook the water from her hair. “You little gremlin!”

Sophia resurfaced, grinning. “Payback for stealing my pizza last time.”

“Help, Mark,” Chloe mock-wailed, “your daughter’s bullying me.”

I smiled. “Come on, be nice to each other,” I said, after closing the sunscreen bottle.

Chloe stuck her tongue out to Sophia and hopped inside the pool, water splashing everywhere.

While they were splashing each other, I made an excuse about needing to check my email and retreated inside. Through the window, I watched them. Sophia did laps and splashed at Chloe now and then, who floated on her back, breasts breaking the surface. Every so often, Chloe glanced at me, making sure I was watching.

After a while, Sophia called from the pool, “Dad, come swim with us! We need a shark.”

“I’m sorry, I have to answer some emails.”

Chloe grinned. “C’mon, Mark. Live a little.”

I relented, changing into swimming trunks and heading to the pool. Chloe’s eyes widened at the sight of my chest, and I slid into the water. Sophia squealed and immediately tried to dunk me. Chloe circled like a shark, then pounced, arms around my neck and legs around my waist. Her body pressed against mine, slippery and hot even in the cool water. For a second, it felt like it was just the two of us, her laughter in my ear and her breath on my face.

“Okay, okay!” I said, pretending to pry her off, but not trying too hard.

Sophia shrieked and splashed us both, and Chloe let go, drifting away with a playful smile. She dove under, kicked back to the surface, and slicked her hair behind her head, chest heaving.

“Dad’s a really good swimmer,” Sophia said proudly. “He used to do, like, Iron Man stuff.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

I shrugged. “Not anymore.”

Chloe floated closer, lowering her voice. “Bet you’re still in great shape, though.” She eyed my arms, my chest. I felt like a lab specimen under her scrutiny.

“He’s training every day,” Sophia said proudly.

“What about you two?” I asked them.

“We also go to the gym,” Chloe said. “But I don’t see any guys like you there.”

Sophia playfully splashed water at her. “You’re flirting with my dad again!”

“No, I’m not,” she said, blushing like a tulip and splashing water at my daughter.

I chuckled and headed out of the pool. Eventually, they followed after a truce.

“Can we do scary movie night?” Sophia said, grabbing a towel and flopping onto a deck chair.

“That’ll be fun,” Chloe said.

My daughter poked my rib while I tried to dry myself. “You gotta do it with us, Dad. So we don’t get nightmares.”

“Sure thing,” I said, feeling already younger and happier spending time with these two, but my mind was barely in it. Chloe towel-dried on the patio, making a production of it, twisting the fabric between her legs, patting her chest and then sliding the towel behind her neck and stretching again. She caught me staring and winked.

*****

While the girls showered, I changed and tried to focus on something else, but every time I blinked, I saw Chloe, bent over, legs apart and arching against my touch. I heard her laugh in the hall, then her voice outside the bathroom door.

“Ugh, Sophia, I’m so jealous. Your dad’s like crazy hot for an older guy.”

Sophia giggled. “You are so gross. Ew!”

“Whatever, you know he’s a DILF.”

Sophia shrieked and threw something at the door. Chloe shrieked back, and they both dissolved in laughter.

After the shower, they put on some appropriate clothes, tops and skirts. And then I made some burgers for them. Dinner went fine, and they discussed what movie they wanted to see.

*****

After we’d eaten, they dragged me into the living room with a giggle, and the movie started with all three of us on the couch. I sat in the middle, my daughter on one end, Chloe on the other. Ten minutes in, Sophia curled up under a blanket and stuck her feet in my lap. She always did that, a little kid move she’d never given up. Chloe did the same from her side, and soon the blanket stretched across all three of us.

Midway through the movie, Chloe nudged closer. Our legs touched, bare skin on bare skin. I felt her breath on my arm and the tickle of her hair on my shoulder. She shifted, pulling the blanket tighter, and suddenly, her hand was on my thigh, just above the knee.

She didn’t move it. It was just there, warm and firm, inches from my groin. I tried to ignore it, but then her thumb traced a slow circle on my leg, and I nearly jumped.

Sophia gasped at the movie, burying her face in my shoulder. She clung to my arm. Chloe’s hand slipped higher.

“You okay?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looked at me, mouth close to my ear. “I’m so wet right now,” she whispered. Then, louder, “I think I spilled my drink.”

I looked down, but her cup was upright on the table. She smiled, then scooted her hand away, back to her lap. She was making me hard, whether I liked it or not, and I really didn’t want my daughter to feel my hard-on.

The movie reached a particularly intense scene, where the killer was stalking his prey through a darkened house. Suddenly, he jumped out with a knife, and both girls shrieked. Sophia buried her face deeper into my shoulder, but Chloe practically launched herself against me, wrapping both arms around my torso.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This part always gets me.”

“It’s okay,” I said, instinctively putting my arm around her shoulders.

She pressed herself tighter against me, her body quivering. As the tension in the movie built, Chloe’s hand found mine under the blanket. Before I could process what was happening, she guided my hand to her chest, placing it directly over her breast.

“This makes me feel safer,” she whispered so quietly only I could hear. “Please?”

My fingers cupped her soft flesh through her thin top, and I felt her nipple harden against my palm. I knew I should pull away, but my body betrayed me. Her breast was warm, perfectly sized for my hand, and she subtly arched her back to press more firmly into my touch.

Sophia then cuddled closer, but her friend’s breast was making me hard. I tried my hardest to make it go away, but luckily, my daughter didn’t lean too close.

After the movie, Sophia yawned. “I’m gonna shower and call Mom before bed,” she said, scooping up her phone.

Chloe lounged on the couch. “I should probably shower, too,” she said, looking at me, then biting her lower lip.

“Go do that. I’ll clean up after you.”

“You’re the best, Dad,” my daughter said, kissing my cheek.

Chloe smiled as well and went to the guest bathroom to shower. I cleaned up the snack bowls, anything to stay busy, but I couldn’t stop thinking of Chloe’s boobs, and the way she’d guided my hand to her youthful tit.

Ten minutes later, I heard Chloe’s voice from the hall, “Mark? Can you bring me a towel? Sophia’s locked herself in the other bathroom, and I forgot to grab one.”

I grabbed a towel and went to the bathroom door, knocking gently. “Chloe?”

She cracked it open and reached for the towel, but didn’t take it. Instead, she pulled the door wider. The steam billowed out, and so did she, completely naked, water streaming down her body, hair plastered to her back. She didn’t try to cover up. Unlike my wife’s boobs, hers were perfect, full and perky, nipples flushed pink from the hot water. Her hips flared just enough, stomach flat and tight, legs long and smooth. There was not a stubble in sight on her mound, and her pussy was wet, symmetric and straight like a pink line. I was mesmerised. I hadn’t seen such youthful beauty in years.

She stepped close and took the towel, brushing my hand. “Thank you,” she said demurely when she clearly noticed how I checked her out and the reaction I had to her.

I tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out. She smiled, shy and proud, and disappeared back inside.

*****

I went to bed that night with a rock in my gut, guilt and need and the lingering memory of Chloe’s body, Chloe’s laugh, Chloe’s hand on my leg, my hand on her tit, the way she’d clung to me in the pool, the way I had rubbed sunscreen on her, the conversation when she called me a DILF and so much more. I told myself it would get easier once she left. I told myself I could handle one more day.

But I knew I was lying.

I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, sleep as far off as the moon outside my window. The house had that rare, perfect silence, the kind that only comes when there are no deadlines, no chores, and no reason to rise at dawn. I let myself drift, but every time my mind touched the edge of sleep, Chloe’s body would flood back, the slope of her ass, the way her eyes had bored into mine, and the memory of her hand on my thigh.

I tried to push the images out, tried to conjure my wife instead, her laugh, her long legs and the way she would curl up behind me at night and whisper that I was her favorite person. But even that memory was tinged with guilt; it had been months since Jeanette had touched me with anything but obligation. We still had sex regularly, and our marriage was going well, but Chloe was so beautiful, and she clearly had a thing for me.

A shadow crossed the hallway light, and then a silhouette slipped inside. It was Chloe, and she closed the door, pausing to see if I’d stir. I watched her through half-lidded eyes, heartbeat galloping in my chest. She padded across the carpet, hips swaying in tiny shorts, paired with one of Sophia’s college t-shirts. On Chloe, it was indecently short, barely brushing the tops of her thighs.

“Mark?” she whispered. “You awake?”

I didn’t answer. I wanted to, but something in me refused to break the spell.

Chloe lifted the edge of the comforter and crawled in next to me. She lay on her side, just inches from my face. “I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered. “Sophia’s snoring. She’s, like, full-on walrus mode.”

I smiled despite myself, chuckling.

“So you are awake,” she said with a smile.

“I’m sorry. I know she can snore now and then.”

Chloe’s hand found my forearm, tracing a slow line from wrist to elbow. Her skin was cool, fingers soft, her nails painted pale pink. She pressed closer, her feminine, honeyed scent flooding my senses. For a moment, neither of us moved.

“So, can I stay here? I mean, your wife isn’t here, after all.”

I looked at her. “And you’re just planning to sleep here, right?”

“Well, yeah,” she said. “I’m open for other things too, if you want.”

I knew it. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I told her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just … I’ve wanted this for so long. I think you’re a really attractive and nice guy.”

“You’re my daughter’s best friend, and I’m married.”

“And?” she said, looking up to me with her beautiful blue eyes. They looked like sapphires, complementing her loose blonde hair. “No one has to find out.”

She eyed my lips, and I eyed hers. I wondered how they would feel, fresh nineteen-year-old lips. I hadn’t tasted anything as sweet in decades.

A dam inside me broke. I reached for her and found her lips. They were soft, insistent and tasted faintly of toothpaste and something really sweet—youth. The kiss deepened, and our tongues swirled together. My hands wandered up her back, under the hem of her shirt, to the bare skin of her waist. She arched against me, her leg slipping over mine, hooking me closer.

We broke apart, gasping. “We can’t,” I said. It sounded weak, even to me.

Chloe’s eyes sparkled, pupils blown wide. “Just tonight. Please, Mark. As I said, nobody has to know. I fantasize about you every night.”

“You do?”

She nodded.

I mulled it over, knowing I might never get another chance like this in my life. “Alright, but you can’t tell my daughter about this.”

She beamed. “Promise.” She peeled off the shirt, her breasts naked in the dim light, the same ones I’d seen in the bathroom. I reached out, unable to help myself, and cupped one in my hand, thumb brushing across the pinkish peak. She made a tiny, desperate sound, then pushed her hips into me, grinding against the tent in my boxers.

I yanked her close, mouths crashing together, hands everywhere. Her body was supple, soft and smooth, so different from my wife.

She tugged at my waistband. I let her pull them down, and my cock sprang free, hard and aching. She giggled, then caught herself, biting her lip. “Sorry,” she whispered. “You’re just so … big.”

I felt myself blush. She took me in her hand, stroking gently, watching my face for reaction. Then she slid down the bed, lips tracing a path along my stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Her tongue flicked out, warm and wet, and then she took the head of my cock into her mouth.

I fought to keep quiet, clenching my jaw. She worked me with an eagerness that bordered on worship, lips sealed tight, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Every few seconds, she’d look up, eyes bright, checking to see if I was watching. I was. I couldn’t look away from that beautiful college girl sucking my cock.

She pulled off, panting, a strand of saliva connecting us. “I want you to fuck me,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted it since I was fifteen.”

I reached for her, pulled her on top of me, and rolled us so she was on her back. Her legs spread willingly, and I settled between them. The heat of her was overwhelming. I ran my fingers over her wet sex. Her pussy was light pink, and it was just a straight, symmetric slit with a tiny hole at the bottom. I pressed the tip to her slit, and she reached down, guiding me inside her hole.

She was tight, super tight, but also incredibly wet at the same time. Her pussy even jiggled a little as my cock touched her swollen pussy. I started slowly, inch by inch, watching her face twist with pleasure and pain. She clung to my shoulders, nails digging in, eyes never leaving mine.

“Is this okay?” I asked her, wanting her to feel as good as possible while I cheated on my wife.

She nodded, lips trembling. “Fuck, yes.”

I moved in slow strokes, enjoying every inch, trying to draw it out as long as I could. Chloe wrapped her legs around my hips, pulling me deeper, her heels pressing into my lower back. “Does my pussy feel good?” she asked me.

“I haven’t felt such a wet pussy in decades … and yes, it feels incredible.”

“Go harder then,” she said with a moan after I bottomed out.

I gave it to her, and her tits bounced with each thrust,

“Oh my god,” she whimpered, “that’s so good. Harder. Please.”

I gave her what she wanted, building speed, the wet slap of our bodies the only sound in the room. She squeezed me tight, her pussy rippling around my cock. I couldn’t believe I was having sex with a fresh college girl again … in the same bed my wife usually slept in. She started moaning loudly.

“Don’t be so loud,” I whispered, burying my face in her neck while my cock twitched inside her. “Sophia’s right down the hall.”

She bit my shoulder, muffling her cries. “I can’t help it. You feel so fucking good.”

I shifted, pulled out, and flipped her onto her stomach. She giggled when I used my strength. “You know doggy?”

“Ass up, face down, right?”

I leaned down to kiss her smooth ass. “Good girl.” She arched her back, ass high in the air, and I slid back in. The new angle was perfect, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I fucked her hard, grabbing her hips, watching her ass ripple with each smack.

“God, yes, Mark,” she groaned into the pillow. “Just like that, harder, Daddy.”

I pounded her, breath ragged and sweat beading on my forehead. She pushed back against me, hungry for every inch. I felt her clench, then tremble and she came with a guttural moan, her juices flooding out and spilling over the sheets.

“Geeze,” I said, eyes widening at her orgasm. Then I slammed into her one last time, spilling inside her my cum, and nearly blacked out with the force of it. I slowed down, milking the orgasm.

She sighed in relief. “Oh, that felt so good,” she said.

“It did,” I said, palming her smooth ass, admiring the silky texture with not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. I pulled out from her tight hole, seeing it gape open and reveal the glistening cum inside.

We collapsed together, Chloe panting and wild-eyed, hair tangled across her face. I pulled her close. “I hope you’re on birth control,” I told her.

“I am,” she said. Then she started to giggle. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

I buried my face in her neck, unable to speak. The guilt was back, cold and sharp, but so was the high.

Chloe rolled onto her back, stretching like a cat. “This is our secret, right? Like, forever?”

I nodded. “Nobody can ever know.”

She kissed me, sweet and slow. “Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna want it again next time Sophia invites me over.”

“My bedroom door will be open for you … but tone it down on the flirting, Sophia will notice.”

“Maybe when you stop being so hot,” she said with a wink. “Now, I’ll go back to your snoring daughter.”

I reached the nightstand and gave her some fresh earplugs. “Take these.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too,” I said.

She slipped out of bed, naked and glowing, and tiptoed to the door. She looked back, grinned, and disappeared into the hallway.

I lay there and nodded. It was worth it. It was definitely worth it.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

“You don’t mind if Chloe stays the weekend, right?” Sophia, my sweet nineteen-year-old daughter, called from the living room, not even looking up from her phone. She was curled into the corner of the couch, legs tucked up under her and toes wiggling in pink fuzzy socks.

Chloe was her best friend, and a beautiful teen just like my daughter.

“Chloe’s always welcome here,” I said. “As long as you two don’t destroy the place.”

Sophia rolled her eyes and flicked me a half-hearted finger. “We won’t. We’re gonna chill by the pool, maybe watch movies, whatever.” She went back to texting, thumbs moving at a rate that had to be unsustainable for long-term joint health.

Jeanette, my wife, poked her head around the corner, purse already slung on her arm. “I’m heading out to see my sister. I’ll crash at her place,” she called. “Text if you need anything, honey.” Her gaze lingered on me. “And you, please don’t let them burn down the house.” She always said that, as if I were some kind of pyromaniac babysitter, as if she hadn’t been married to me for almost twenty years and seen that I only burned food, not buildings.

“Got it, boss,” I said. She grinned and crossed to me, up on tiptoes. She kissed my cheek. Then she was at Sophia, hugging her.

“Be good. And say hi to Chloe for me. Tell her I’ll kick her ass at Uno next time.”

Sophia giggled. “You wish, Mom.”

Jeanette was out the door before I could say another word, high heels clicking down the driveway, the click fading until it was just Sophia and me in the house … and soon Chloe. Perfect timing. My wife was gone, and Sophia’s best friend would be here soon. That didn’t happen often.

I stood at the window and watched my wife’s car back out. For the first time in months, I was struck by how little I missed her when she was gone, how much easier it was to breathe in this house when the only thing I had to answer to was my daughter’s random moods. Our marriage was still going well, but sometimes I missed someone younger, perhaps someone more forbidden.

*****

After half an hour, Chloe’s battered Honda Civic pulled into the drive, parking half on the grass as usual. The world shifted a little bit. I didn’t let myself think about why.

She sprang from the car like a gymnast, long blonde hair caught in a ponytail, bare legs pale and gleaming under the porch light. She was in those shorts, again, the ones that barely qualified as legal, and a white crop top so tight I wondered if she needed to exhale before putting it on. A tiny blue backpack hung off one shoulder.

She knocked, and Sophia jumped to her feet, running to the door. “Chloe!” Sophia said and threw her arms around her, and they did their usual shriek-and-bounce routine. I tried not to stare, but Chloe’s ass looked painted onto her, every little muscle line visible when she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“Hi, Mark!” she said, after breaking the hug and pushing past Sophia and pinning me with a look. She came right up to me and hugged me, arms tight and her breasts squished comfortably against my chest. There was nothing accidental about the contact. She lingered, and I was painfully aware of her body heat and her vanilla-coconut scent.

“Hi, Chloe.”

She whispered, “Missed you,” soft enough I almost thought I’d imagined it.

Sophia rolled her eyes, grinning. “Chloe, stop flirting with my dad.”

Chloe disengaged but winked at me, turning away before I could react. “He’s my backup dad. I gotta get my fix.”

Sophia snorted and punched her lightly on the shoulder. “You’re so weird.”

They talked about hopping into the pool, and they disappeared to the downstairs bathroom to change. I sat outside on a sun bed, wondering if I should feel guilty for being as aware of Chloe as I was. I tried to remember what it felt like to be nineteen and have the world falling all over itself for you. Even when I was that age, I didn’t have the same level of sheer physical confidence that these girls did.

The sliding door rattled open, and they trooped out, giggling. Chloe wore a red bikini that was maybe two square inches of fabric; the rest was just thin string. Her breasts barely fit, nipples threatening to escape every time she moved. The bottoms rode so high on her hips that I could see a deep V where her pelvic bones met, and the triangle in front might as well have been an arrow pointing down. Sophia’s suit was a standard two-piece, blue with white polka dots, cute, innocent, and safe. Chloe looked like she belonged in a music video. She spun and bent over to grab a towel, ass in the air, and every detail outlined.

“Mark,” she called, “can you help me with sunscreen?”

“Sure thing.” I almost said no. I almost got up and walked inside. Instead, I grabbed the bottle from the table and moved to where she stood, back turned, hair swept over one shoulder.

“Thanks,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, eyes sly. “I burn really easy.”

Her skin was smooth under my hands. I rubbed the lotion in slow, careful circles, starting at her shoulders, working down her arms. She hummed, arching her back, pushing her ass against my leg. I moved lower, to her lower back, fingers grazing her red bikini.

She shivered.

“Cold?” I asked.

“Sensitive.” She turned to face me, then, her face just inches from mine, lips parted.

Sophia cannonballed into the pool, splashing us both. Chloe laughed and shook the water from her hair. “You little gremlin!”

Sophia resurfaced, grinning. “Payback for stealing my pizza last time.”

“Help, Mark,” Chloe mock-wailed, “your daughter’s bullying me.”

I smiled. “Come on, be nice to each other,” I said, after closing the sunscreen bottle.

Chloe stuck her tongue out to Sophia and hopped inside the pool, water splashing everywhere.

While they were splashing each other, I made an excuse about needing to check my email and retreated inside. Through the window, I watched them. Sophia did laps and splashed at Chloe now and then, who floated on her back, breasts breaking the surface. Every so often, Chloe glanced at me, making sure I was watching.

After a while, Sophia called from the pool, “Dad, come swim with us! We need a shark.”

“I’m sorry, I have to answer some emails.”

Chloe grinned. “C’mon, Mark. Live a little.”

I relented, changing into swimming trunks and heading to the pool. Chloe’s eyes widened at the sight of my chest, and I slid into the water. Sophia squealed and immediately tried to dunk me. Chloe circled like a shark, then pounced, arms around my neck and legs around my waist. Her body pressed against mine, slippery and hot even in the cool water. For a second, it felt like it was just the two of us, her laughter in my ear and her breath on my face.

“Okay, okay!” I said, pretending to pry her off, but not trying too hard.

Sophia shrieked and splashed us both, and Chloe let go, drifting away with a playful smile. She dove under, kicked back to the surface, and slicked her hair behind her head, chest heaving.

“Dad’s a really good swimmer,” Sophia said proudly. “He used to do, like, Iron Man stuff.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

I shrugged. “Not anymore.”

Chloe floated closer, lowering her voice. “Bet you’re still in great shape, though.” She eyed my arms, my chest. I felt like a lab specimen under her scrutiny.

“He’s training every day,” Sophia said proudly.

“What about you two?” I asked them.

“We also go to the gym,” Chloe said. “But I don’t see any guys like you there.”

Sophia playfully splashed water at her. “You’re flirting with my dad again!”

“No, I’m not,” she said, blushing like a tulip and splashing water at my daughter.

I chuckled and headed out of the pool. Eventually, they followed after a truce.

“Can we do scary movie night?” Sophia said, grabbing a towel and flopping onto a deck chair.

“That’ll be fun,” Chloe said.

My daughter poked my rib while I tried to dry myself. “You gotta do it with us, Dad. So we don’t get nightmares.”

“Sure thing,” I said, feeling already younger and happier spending time with these two, but my mind was barely in it. Chloe towel-dried on the patio, making a production of it, twisting the fabric between her legs, patting her chest and then sliding the towel behind her neck and stretching again. She caught me staring and winked.

*****

While the girls showered, I changed and tried to focus on something else, but every time I blinked, I saw Chloe, bent over, legs apart and arching against my touch. I heard her laugh in the hall, then her voice outside the bathroom door.

“Ugh, Sophia, I’m so jealous. Your dad’s like crazy hot for an older guy.”

Sophia giggled. “You are so gross. Ew!”

“Whatever, you know he’s a DILF.”

Sophia shrieked and threw something at the door. Chloe shrieked back, and they both dissolved in laughter.

After the shower, they put on some appropriate clothes, tops and skirts. And then I made some burgers for them. Dinner went fine, and they discussed what movie they wanted to see.

*****

After we’d eaten, they dragged me into the living room with a giggle, and the movie started with all three of us on the couch. I sat in the middle, my daughter on one end, Chloe on the other. Ten minutes in, Sophia curled up under a blanket and stuck her feet in my lap. She always did that, a little kid move she’d never given up. Chloe did the same from her side, and soon the blanket stretched across all three of us.

Midway through the movie, Chloe nudged closer. Our legs touched, bare skin on bare skin. I felt her breath on my arm and the tickle of her hair on my shoulder. She shifted, pulling the blanket tighter, and suddenly, her hand was on my thigh, just above the knee.

She didn’t move it. It was just there, warm and firm, inches from my groin. I tried to ignore it, but then her thumb traced a slow circle on my leg, and I nearly jumped.

Sophia gasped at the movie, burying her face in my shoulder. She clung to my arm. Chloe’s hand slipped higher.

“You okay?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looked at me, mouth close to my ear. “I’m so wet right now,” she whispered. Then, louder, “I think I spilled my drink.”

I looked down, but her cup was upright on the table. She smiled, then scooted her hand away, back to her lap. She was making me hard, whether I liked it or not, and I really didn’t want my daughter to feel my hard-on.

The movie reached a particularly intense scene, where the killer was stalking his prey through a darkened house. Suddenly, he jumped out with a knife, and both girls shrieked. Sophia buried her face deeper into my shoulder, but Chloe practically launched herself against me, wrapping both arms around my torso.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This part always gets me.”

“It’s okay,” I said, instinctively putting my arm around her shoulders.

She pressed herself tighter against me, her body quivering. As the tension in the movie built, Chloe’s hand found mine under the blanket. Before I could process what was happening, she guided my hand to her chest, placing it directly over her breast.

“This makes me feel safer,” she whispered so quietly only I could hear. “Please?”

My fingers cupped her soft flesh through her thin top, and I felt her nipple harden against my palm. I knew I should pull away, but my body betrayed me. Her breast was warm, perfectly sized for my hand, and she subtly arched her back to press more firmly into my touch.

Sophia then cuddled closer, but her friend’s breast was making me hard. I tried my hardest to make it go away, but luckily, my daughter didn’t lean too close.

After the movie, Sophia yawned. “I’m gonna shower and call Mom before bed,” she said, scooping up her phone.

Chloe lounged on the couch. “I should probably shower, too,” she said, looking at me, then biting her lower lip.

“Go do that. I’ll clean up after you.”

“You’re the best, Dad,” my daughter said, kissing my cheek.

Chloe smiled as well and went to the guest bathroom to shower. I cleaned up the snack bowls, anything to stay busy, but I couldn’t stop thinking of Chloe’s boobs, and the way she’d guided my hand to her youthful tit.

Ten minutes later, I heard Chloe’s voice from the hall, “Mark? Can you bring me a towel? Sophia’s locked herself in the other bathroom, and I forgot to grab one.”

I grabbed a towel and went to the bathroom door, knocking gently. “Chloe?”

She cracked it open and reached for the towel, but didn’t take it. Instead, she pulled the door wider. The steam billowed out, and so did she, completely naked, water streaming down her body, hair plastered to her back. She didn’t try to cover up. Unlike my wife’s boobs, hers were perfect, full and perky, nipples flushed pink from the hot water. Her hips flared just enough, stomach flat and tight, legs long and smooth. There was not a stubble in sight on her mound, and her pussy was wet, symmetric and straight like a pink line. I was mesmerised. I hadn’t seen such youthful beauty in years.

She stepped close and took the towel, brushing my hand. “Thank you,” she said demurely when she clearly noticed how I checked her out and the reaction I had to her.

I tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out. She smiled, shy and proud, and disappeared back inside.

*****

I went to bed that night with a rock in my gut, guilt and need and the lingering memory of Chloe’s body, Chloe’s laugh, Chloe’s hand on my leg, my hand on her tit, the way she’d clung to me in the pool, the way I had rubbed sunscreen on her, the conversation when she called me a DILF and so much more. I told myself it would get easier once she left. I told myself I could handle one more day.

But I knew I was lying.

I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, sleep as far off as the moon outside my window. The house had that rare, perfect silence, the kind that only comes when there are no deadlines, no chores, and no reason to rise at dawn. I let myself drift, but every time my mind touched the edge of sleep, Chloe’s body would flood back, the slope of her ass, the way her eyes had bored into mine, and the memory of her hand on my thigh.

I tried to push the images out, tried to conjure my wife instead, her laugh, her long legs and the way she would curl up behind me at night and whisper that I was her favorite person. But even that memory was tinged with guilt; it had been months since Jeanette had touched me with anything but obligation. We still had sex regularly, and our marriage was going well, but Chloe was so beautiful, and she clearly had a thing for me.

A shadow crossed the hallway light, and then a silhouette slipped inside. It was Chloe, and she closed the door, pausing to see if I’d stir. I watched her through half-lidded eyes, heartbeat galloping in my chest. She padded across the carpet, hips swaying in tiny shorts, paired with one of Sophia’s college t-shirts. On Chloe, it was indecently short, barely brushing the tops of her thighs.

“Mark?” she whispered. “You awake?”

I didn’t answer. I wanted to, but something in me refused to break the spell.

Chloe lifted the edge of the comforter and crawled in next to me. She lay on her side, just inches from my face. “I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered. “Sophia’s snoring. She’s, like, full-on walrus mode.”

I smiled despite myself, chuckling.

“So you are awake,” she said with a smile.

“I’m sorry. I know she can snore now and then.”

Chloe’s hand found my forearm, tracing a slow line from wrist to elbow. Her skin was cool, fingers soft, her nails painted pale pink. She pressed closer, her feminine, honeyed scent flooding my senses. For a moment, neither of us moved.

“So, can I stay here? I mean, your wife isn’t here, after all.”

I looked at her. “And you’re just planning to sleep here, right?”

“Well, yeah,” she said. “I’m open for other things too, if you want.”

I knew it. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I told her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just … I’ve wanted this for so long. I think you’re a really attractive and nice guy.”

“You’re my daughter’s best friend, and I’m married.”

“And?” she said, looking up to me with her beautiful blue eyes. They looked like sapphires, complementing her loose blonde hair. “No one has to find out.”

She eyed my lips, and I eyed hers. I wondered how they would feel, fresh nineteen-year-old lips. I hadn’t tasted anything as sweet in decades.

A dam inside me broke. I reached for her and found her lips. They were soft, insistent and tasted faintly of toothpaste and something really sweet—youth. The kiss deepened, and our tongues swirled together. My hands wandered up her back, under the hem of her shirt, to the bare skin of her waist. She arched against me, her leg slipping over mine, hooking me closer.

We broke apart, gasping. “We can’t,” I said. It sounded weak, even to me.

Chloe’s eyes sparkled, pupils blown wide. “Just tonight. Please, Mark. As I said, nobody has to know. I fantasize about you every night.”

“You do?”

She nodded.

I mulled it over, knowing I might never get another chance like this in my life. “Alright, but you can’t tell my daughter about this.”

She beamed. “Promise.” She peeled off the shirt, her breasts naked in the dim light, the same ones I’d seen in the bathroom. I reached out, unable to help myself, and cupped one in my hand, thumb brushing across the pinkish peak. She made a tiny, desperate sound, then pushed her hips into me, grinding against the tent in my boxers.

I yanked her close, mouths crashing together, hands everywhere. Her body was supple, soft and smooth, so different from my wife.

She tugged at my waistband. I let her pull them down, and my cock sprang free, hard and aching. She giggled, then caught herself, biting her lip. “Sorry,” she whispered. “You’re just so … big.”

I felt myself blush. She took me in her hand, stroking gently, watching my face for reaction. Then she slid down the bed, lips tracing a path along my stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Her tongue flicked out, warm and wet, and then she took the head of my cock into her mouth.

I fought to keep quiet, clenching my jaw. She worked me with an eagerness that bordered on worship, lips sealed tight, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Every few seconds, she’d look up, eyes bright, checking to see if I was watching. I was. I couldn’t look away from that beautiful college girl sucking my cock.

She pulled off, panting, a strand of saliva connecting us. “I want you to fuck me,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted it since I was fifteen.”

I reached for her, pulled her on top of me, and rolled us so she was on her back. Her legs spread willingly, and I settled between them. The heat of her was overwhelming. I ran my fingers over her wet sex. Her pussy was light pink, and it was just a straight, symmetric slit with a tiny hole at the bottom. I pressed the tip to her slit, and she reached down, guiding me inside her hole.

She was tight, super tight, but also incredibly wet at the same time. Her pussy even jiggled a little as my cock touched her swollen pussy. I started slowly, inch by inch, watching her face twist with pleasure and pain. She clung to my shoulders, nails digging in, eyes never leaving mine.

“Is this okay?” I asked her, wanting her to feel as good as possible while I cheated on my wife.

She nodded, lips trembling. “Fuck, yes.”

I moved in slow strokes, enjoying every inch, trying to draw it out as long as I could. Chloe wrapped her legs around my hips, pulling me deeper, her heels pressing into my lower back. “Does my pussy feel good?” she asked me.

“I haven’t felt such a wet pussy in decades … and yes, it feels incredible.”

“Go harder then,” she said with a moan after I bottomed out.

I gave it to her, and her tits bounced with each thrust,

“Oh my god,” she whimpered, “that’s so good. Harder. Please.”

I gave her what she wanted, building speed, the wet slap of our bodies the only sound in the room. She squeezed me tight, her pussy rippling around my cock. I couldn’t believe I was having sex with a fresh college girl again … in the same bed my wife usually slept in. She started moaning loudly.

“Don’t be so loud,” I whispered, burying my face in her neck while my cock twitched inside her. “Sophia’s right down the hall.”

She bit my shoulder, muffling her cries. “I can’t help it. You feel so fucking good.”

I shifted, pulled out, and flipped her onto her stomach. She giggled when I used my strength. “You know doggy?”

“Ass up, face down, right?”

I leaned down to kiss her smooth ass. “Good girl.” She arched her back, ass high in the air, and I slid back in. The new angle was perfect, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I fucked her hard, grabbing her hips, watching her ass ripple with each smack.

“God, yes, Mark,” she groaned into the pillow. “Just like that, harder, Daddy.”

I pounded her, breath ragged and sweat beading on my forehead. She pushed back against me, hungry for every inch. I felt her clench, then tremble and she came with a guttural moan, her juices flooding out and spilling over the sheets.

“Geeze,” I said, eyes widening at her orgasm. Then I slammed into her one last time, spilling inside her my cum, and nearly blacked out with the force of it. I slowed down, milking the orgasm.

She sighed in relief. “Oh, that felt so good,” she said.

“It did,” I said, palming her smooth ass, admiring the silky texture with not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. I pulled out from her tight hole, seeing it gape open and reveal the glistening cum inside.

We collapsed together, Chloe panting and wild-eyed, hair tangled across her face. I pulled her close. “I hope you’re on birth control,” I told her.

“I am,” she said. Then she started to giggle. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

I buried my face in her neck, unable to speak. The guilt was back, cold and sharp, but so was the high.

Chloe rolled onto her back, stretching like a cat. “This is our secret, right? Like, forever?”

I nodded. “Nobody can ever know.”

She kissed me, sweet and slow. “Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna want it again next time Sophia invites me over.”

“My bedroom door will be open for you … but tone it down on the flirting, Sophia will notice.”

“Maybe when you stop being so hot,” she said with a wink. “Now, I’ll go back to your snoring daughter.”

I reached the nightstand and gave her some fresh earplugs. “Take these.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too,” I said.

She slipped out of bed, naked and glowing, and tiptoed to the door. She looked back, grinned, and disappeared into the hallway.

I lay there and nodded. It was worth it. It was definitely worth it.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on https://pornreads.com/

“Vanessa will come over tonight,” Mom said while we were having breakfast.

All I heard was Vanessa’s name, and just like that, I shifted in my chair, grateful for the table hiding my lap as blood rushed south. I was nineteen years old and in college. It was Friday, and we had the day off from classes. Mom kept talking about wine night and catching up, completely oblivious to how her best friend’s name alone could make my cock rock hard. Vanessa was coming over tonight. Vanessa with her full red lips and a MILF body that had haunted my dreams since puberty.

“She’s been single too long,” Mom said, pouring more juice into her cup. “Might need to loosen her up a bit.” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “Wine night emergency intervention.”

“Cool,” I said. “What time?”

“After dinner. You don’t mind, right? I know you’ve got your video games.” Mom smiled, completely unaware she was discussing the starring actress of every wet dream I’d had for the past three years.

“No, it’s fine,” I said while adjusting my position again. My half-hard cock pressed uncomfortably against my zipper.

As Mom chatted on about her day ahead, my mind drifted to Vanessa, Mom’s best friend since college, divorced two years ago and absolutely fucking stunning.

Vanessa wasn’t like the skinny Instagram models guys at school drooled over. She was a woman with hips to die for and big, busty boobs with a natural jaw-dropping cleavage. Her heavy, natural D-cup breasts strained against whatever top she wore; thick, powerful thighs that tapered to surprisingly delicate ankles; an ass that had actually improved with age, round and firm enough to make my palms itch whenever she wore those tight jeans she favored.

Every time she visited, her perfume lingered in our house for hours, vanilla and coconut that made my head swim. And those lips … God, those full, pouty lips she always painted crimson. How many nights had I spent imagining them wrapped around my cock?

The guilt always came later, after I’d finished into tissues or socks, my breathing returning to normal as shame crept in. She was Mom’s best friend. Mom, who worked two jobs when Dad left, who had always been there for me. And here I was, constantly fantasizing about her closest friend, the woman she called “like a sister.”

But the guilt never stopped me from saving that photo. Last summer’s barbecue, Vanessa in black bikini top and denim shorts. I’d grabbed it from Mom’s Facebook, cropped out the other people, and kept it hidden in a password-protected folder on my phone. Her skin glowed with a light tan, her cleavage deep and her smile bright with just a hint of wickedness.

Mom often joked about Vanessa being “still wild” after her divorce. “That woman needs warning labels,” she’d say, rolling her eyes after Vanessa had gone home from a visit. I’d always pretend not to listen too closely, but inside, every comment fed the fantasies. What did “wild” mean exactly? What did she do with the men she dated? What would she do with me if …

“Ethan?” Mom’s voice snapped me back. “I’m talking to you, honey.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Thinking about a game level.”

She shook her head with a smile. “I said I’m heading to work. There’s leftover pasta in the fridge for lunch.”

After Mom left, I retreated to my room. I sprawled across my bed, phone in hand, and found myself opening that hidden folder before I’d even consciously decided to.

There she was. Vanessa, 42 years old and sexier than any woman had a right to be. My free hand drifted to the growing bulge in my shorts while my eyes lingered on her cleavage, on the soft shadows between her breasts that made me want to bury my face there. I remembered how she’d bent over to grab another drink from the cooler that day, how the bikini top had strained, threatening to spill her treasures into view.

I slipped my hand beneath my waistband, wrapping fingers around my hardening shaft. In my mind, Vanessa was no longer at that barbecue but here, in my room, looking down at me with those dark, sexy eyes.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” fantasy-Vanessa whispered. “All these years, watching me when you thought I wouldn’t notice.”

My hand moved faster as I imagined her straddling me, those busty breasts swaying just inches from my face. In my fantasy, she wore that same black bikini top, but her hand guided mine to the clasp between her shoulder blades.

“Take it off,” she said. “You’ve wanted to see them for so long…”

Pre-cum leaked from my tip as I stroked myself harder. I was fully hard now, my cock throbbing with each heartbeat. In my mind, the bikini top fell away, revealing her perfect breasts, nipples dark and stiff with lust. Fantasy-Vanessa guided my hands to cup their weight, her head tilting back as she moaned.

“I’ve wanted this too,” she confessed in my imagination. “Watching you grow up, becoming a man, such a big, strong man…”

My hips rocked upward into my fist as I pictured her grinding against me, her heat meeting mine through the thin fabric of her bikini bottom. I was close, so close, my fantasy reaching its crescendo as Vanessa leaned down to whisper exactly what she wanted me to do to her—

A sharp knock on my door jolted me back to reality. “Honey?” The door began to open before I could respond.

I yanked my hand from my shorts and fumbled with my phone, closing the photo app and flipping to the home screen.

She poked her head in. “I just wanted to let you know that I forgot something.”

“Okay!” I cut her off, my voice unnaturally high. I shifted, drawing one knee up to hide the obvious tent in my shorts. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“You feeling alright? Your face is flushed.”

“Just … just finished a workout,” I said, gesturing vaguely toward the small set of dumbbells in the corner of my room.

She seemed to accept this with a nod. “Well, don’t stay holed up in here all day.”

“I’ll go out,” I said, desperately willing her to leave.

When the door finally closed behind her, I collapsed back against my pillows. How the fuck didn’t I hear her?

*****

Mom came back later that day, and we had dinner. She was excited to have Vanessa over, and so was I.

The doorbell rang at exactly eight. I’d spent the hours since Mom’s unexpected intrusion in a state of perpetual half-arousal, unable to finish what I’d started but equally unable to think of anything but Vanessa.

“I’ve got it,” I said. Mom raised an eyebrow but continued clearing dishes.

I took a deep breath before opening the door, but no amount of mental preparation could have readied me for Vanessa in the flesh.

I opened the door, and she stood on our porch, illuminated by the golden porch light, looking like every forbidden fantasy I’d ever had. Her dark hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, framing a face that managed to be both classically beautiful and wickedly sensual. But it was her outfit that made my eyes widen, a deep burgundy top with a neckline that plunged between her breasts, creating a shadowy valley of cleavage that drew my eyes like a magnet. Her jeans might as well have been painted on, hugging thick thighs and a round ass that had featured in countless midnight imaginings.

“Ethan!” she said, her face lighting up with a smile that created dimples in her cheeks. “Look at you! You get taller every time I see you.”

Before I could respond, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a hug that short-circuited my brain. Her substantial breasts pressed firmly against my chest, soft and yielding yet somehow firm. Her perfume, that same vanilla-coconut scent, enveloped me, filling my lungs, making me slightly dizzy. I awkwardly returned the hug, afraid she would feel my hard-on against her hip.

“Hi, Vanessa.”

She pulled back but kept her hands on my shoulders, looking up at me through mascara-darkened lashes. Her lips, God, those lips, were painted a deep crimson that matched her top, full and slightly parted as she assessed me.

“You’re not a boy anymore, are you?” she said, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. “Turning into quite the handsome young man … How’s college?”

I felt heat crawl up my neck as her thumbs briefly brushed against my collarbone before she released me. My cock strained painfully against my jeans, and I shifted my stance, praying it wasn’t visible. “It’s fine … I’m trying to keep up with studying.”

“And the girls too, I suppose,” she said with a wink.

If you only knew how much I fantasize about you …

“Vanessa!” Mom appeared behind me, wine glasses already in hand. “You look amazing. That color is perfect on you.”

“Claire!” Vanessa moved past me to embrace my mother, giving me a momentary respite from her overwhelming presence.

I seized the opportunity, not wanting to be too awkward. “Uh, I have something to do … homework and stuff,” I mumbled, already backing toward the hallway.

Mom laughed. “Homework on a Friday night? Sure, honey.” She winked at Vanessa. “He’s suddenly shy, must be your effect on him.”

If only she knew how right she was.

“Don’t be a stranger all night,” Vanessa called as I retreated. “Come have a glass of wine with us later. You’re old enough now, right?”

“He’s nineteen, but this is the good wine,” Mom said with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go out to the terrace. It’s beautiful tonight.”

I escaped to my room, closing the door and leaning against it. My erection hadn’t subsided in the slightest. If anything, Vanessa’s comment about me being “old enough now” had made it worse. Was she just making conversation, or was there something more to that look she’d given me?

I paced my small bedroom, trying to calm down, but the image of Vanessa’s cleavage and the memory of her body pressed against mine kept my arousal painfully present. Through my window, I could hear the sounds of laughter from the terrace below. Our house wasn’t large, just a modest suburban two-story, and my bedroom window overlooked the back terrace where Mom and Vanessa would be drinking.

Almost without deciding to, I moved to the window and cracked it open slightly. I dimmed my light and settled onto the floor beneath the window, back against the wall, just out of sight, but able to hear every word.

“—can’t believe it’s been six months since I’ve seen you,” Mom said while clinking wine glasses. “Work has been absolutely insane.”

“Tell me about it,” Vanessa replied. “But let’s not talk about work. I need this wine and girl talk more than you know.”

They laughed together, the easy laughter of old friends. I heard the glug of wine being poured again.

“How’s dating life?” Mom asked. “Any prospects since that accountant disaster?”

Vanessa groaned dramatically. “God, don’t remind me of him. And no, nothing worth mentioning. Men my age are either twice-divorced with more baggage than an airport carousel, or they’re looking for twenty-five-year-old yoga instructors.”

“Their loss,” Mom said loyally.

“I’m seriously considering just getting a younger model,” Vanessa said, her voice dropping slightly. “Someone with energy and enthusiasm who hasn’t had his spirit crushed by a decade of corporate America.”

My entire body went rigid at her words. The wine was clearly loosening her tongue already.

“Vanessa!” Mom exclaimed. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m serious, Claire. Do you remember Brad from college? How we’d go all night?”

“Oh my God,” Mom giggled. “The RA who kept giving your room noise complaints?”

“Exactly! That stamina … that enthusiasm …” Vanessa sighed wistfully. “Now it’s all men who need a pill to get it up, and even then they’re done in five minutes.”

I bit my lip hard, my cock throbbing in my jeans. I shouldn’t be listening to this. It was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t make myself move away.

“Marcus was the worst,” Vanessa continued, referring to her ex-husband. “Tiny stamina, and I don’t just mean duration.” She lowered her voice to a theatrical whisper that still carried perfectly to my ears. “I’m talking disappointingly small equipment.”

Mom cackled. “No!”

“God’s honest truth. Why do you think I have a collection of vibrators that would make a sex shop jealous?” Vanessa laughed. “I need a man who can keep up, Claire. Someone who can go more than once a night. Someone who gets hard just looking at me.”

My hand had found its way to my crotch without conscious thought, rubbing slowly over the denim.

“You’re still wild, girl,” Mom said with affectionate exasperation. “Always have been. Remember sophomore year when you—”

They launched into college stories, their voices growing progressively more slurred as the wine flowed freely. I learned things about my mother’s college days I’d never known, parties, make-out sessions with teaching assistants, skinny dipping in the campus fountain … but it was Vanessa’s stories that kept me rooted to the spot, hand now inside my jeans, stroking myself slowly as she described past conquests and sexual preferences with increasing explicitness. How she loved having her hair pulled during sex, how she preferred to be on top and how she could come from penetration alone if the angle was right.

“I haven’t had a proper orgasm with a partner in months,” she complained, her words slightly fuzzy around the edges now. “I’m dying, Claire, absolutely dying for a good, hard fuck.”

I muffled a groan against my arm, pre-cum dampening my boxers as I imagined being the one to give her exactly what she needed. In that moment, listening to Vanessa’s explicit desires while touching myself in the darkness of my bedroom, any remaining guilt was overwhelmed by a wave of lust. Tonight, she was just a wall away, drunk and horny.

And for the first time, I began to wonder if the impossible might actually happen.

*****

Eventually, my blue balls became so painful, I tried to play some games to relieve the tension. Then later that night, I heard the sound of the terrace door sliding open. Mom’s voice, slurred beyond recognition, was followed by Vanessa’s laugh. I checked my phone: 1:37 AM. They’d been drinking for over five hours. I crept to my door and cracked it open, peering down the darkened hallway as they stumbled into the living room. Mom collapsed onto the couch with a soft “oomph,” mumbling something about being too tired to make it upstairs to her bedroom.

“You’re in no shape to move,” Vanessa’s voice, thick with wine but still steadier than Mom’s. “Just sleep it off here, honey.”

“Mmkay,” Mom muttered, already sounding half-asleep. “You know where … guest room …”

“I do. Not my first rodeo with drunk Claire,” Vanessa chuckled. I heard her rustling around, probably draping a blanket over Mom, before her footsteps headed toward the hallway.

I quickly shut my door most of the way, leaving just a sliver to peek through. Vanessa passed by as she made her way to the guest bedroom next to mine. The door opened and closed, but didn’t click fully shut, remaining ajar by a few inches.

The guest room shared a wall with mine, a notoriously thin wall that had let me hear everything from Mom’s friends’ snoring to their phone conversations over the years. I moved silently to my bed, sitting on the edge closest to that shared wall, ears straining in the darkness.

At first, there were just the sounds of movement: shoes being kicked off, clothes rustling and the creak of the old mattress as she sat down. Then, silence for maybe a minute.

Until the buzzing started. It was low at first then increased in intensity. My eyes widened as I realized what I was hearing: Vanessa’s vibrator. The one she’d joked about during wine night.

“Fuck,” her voice came through the wall. “God, that’s it …”

I sat frozen, my cock instantly hardening to painful rigidity. I shouldn’t listen to this. It was private, inappropriate, crossing yet another line, but I couldn’t make myself move away.

“So fucking tired of doing this myself,” she murmured, the buzzing growing louder, her breathing more labored. “Need a real cock … young cock … someone who can last …”

My hand slid into my boxers almost involuntarily, wrapping around my shaft as I listened to her pleasuring herself.

“God, I need a young guy to fuck me right,” she moaned, her voice rising slightly. “Someone who can last … who gets hard over and over…”

The vibrator’s buzzing increased in tempo, as did her breathing. I stroked myself in time with her moans, imagining what she looked like sprawled across that guest bed, legs spread and sliding the toy in and out of her wet pussy.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had risen from my bed and crept to my door. The rational part of my brain screamed at me to stop, to get in bed, to put on headphones, anything but what I was about to do. But my body was no longer taking orders from reason.

I moved silently down the hallway. Through the partially open door of the guest room, a yellow lamplight spilled into the hallway. I approached slowly, heart threatening to burst from my chest and peered through the crack.

The sight nearly buckled my knees and made me come on the spot.

Vanessa lay on the bed, completely naked. Her heavy breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing, nipples dark, thick and stiff with lust. One hand kneaded her busty breast while the other slid a purple vibrator between her spread legs. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back, those crimson lips parted as soft moans escaped her throat.

I must have made some sound, a gasp, a shift of weight that made the floor creak, because suddenly her eyes snapped open and locked directly on the doorway … on me.

Time froze. We stared at each other, neither moving. The vibrator still buzzed, but her hand had stilled.

Then, her lips curved into a smile.

“You heard that, huh?” she said softly. “Come here, baby.”

I stood paralyzed, certain I had misheard, but she beckoned with her free hand, the vibrator still pressed against herself.

“Don’t be shy now,” she whispered. “I’ve seen how you look at me, for years.”

My legs moved of their own accord, carrying me into the room. I closed the door behind me with a click, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure it would wake Mom downstairs.

“Vanessa … I shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet, here you are.” She turned off the vibrator and set it aside, then rose to her knees on the bed. Completely nude, unashamed, her mature body glowed in the lamplight. “And here I am, soaking wet and all alone.”

She reached for me, pulling me toward the bed until I stood directly before her, her face level with my chest. Her hands slid under my t-shirt, warm palms against my stomach.

“I’ve watched you grow up,” she murmured, pushing my shirt upward. I raised my arms automatically, letting her pull it off. “Watched you become a man and wondered …”

Her fingers traced the waistband of my boxers, brushing against the rigid length straining beneath the fabric. I shuddered, a small sound escaping my throat.

“Wondered if you were as big as I imagined,” she finished.

Then she was kissing me, her full lips pressing against mine with a heat that shattered any remaining hesitation. I kissed her back hungrily, years of fantasy crystallizing into this moment. Her tongue slipped into my mouth as her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me down to her.

She tasted like wine and forbidden fruit, her perfume filling my senses as her naked breasts pressed against my bare chest. My hands found her waist, skin soft beneath my palms. Then my hands travelled lower to her full moon. God those cheeks were so round and soft. I squeezed them, trying to pull them apart only to have them snap back in place. I could feel them jiggle beneath my hands, and I slid my hand through the crack, gently touching her wet fruit.

When she pulled back, her lipstick was smudged, and her eyes had a predatory gleam. “Let me see if you’re as big as I imagined,” she whispered, sliding down to her knees before me.

She tugged my boxers down, my cock springing free. Her eyes widened slightly, a pleased smile spreading across her face.

“Oh, baby,” she said, one hand wrapping around my shaft. “You’ve been hiding this all this time?”

Before I could respond, she opened her mouth and sucked me in. I nearly came on the spot as she took me into her mouth, her crimson lipstick leaving souvenirs on my flesh. My hands found her hair, soft dark waves tangled between my fingers as she bobbed her head.

It was sloppy and eager, nothing like the slow explorations I’d experienced with girls my age. Vanessa knew exactly what she was doing, alternating between deep, hungry pulls and teasing licks, her hand stroking what couldn’t fit in her mouth. Wet sounds filled the room as she moaned around my cock.

“Fuck, Vanessa,” I said, watching those full lips stretch around my girth like rubber bands. “That feels so good.”

She pulled off with a pop, looking up at me with wicked eyes while continuing to stroke me, her hand slick with saliva.

“So much better than those old men,” she murmured. “Look at this beautiful cock, and you’re hard for me.”

She took me deep again, her free hand cupping my balls, and I had to grit my teeth against the mounting pleasure. When I felt my climax approaching too quickly, I gently pulled her head back.

“I don’t want to finish yet,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness.

Vanessa smiled, rising to her feet. “On the bed,” she said, pushing me down onto the mattress. “Let me ride this young cock.”

She straddled me, her thighs bracketing my hips, the heat of her sex hovering just above my straining erection, and a string of her honey landed right on the tip. Her heavy breasts swayed before my face, looking like two big bells.

“Your mother would kill me,” she whispered, positioning my tip at the small ‘0’ of her entrance. “But fuck, I need this.”

Then she sank down, my cock penetrating her wet pussy that made stars explode behind my eyes. We both moaned, her hands splayed across my chest for balance as she took me fully inside her, pussy lips against my groin.

“God, you’re so big,” she said, beginning to rock her hips. “Filling me completely.”

I gripped her thick thighs as she rode me, her breasts bouncing with each movement. The sight of Vanessa, Mom’s best friend, naked and impaled on my cock was almost too much to process. I thought I was dreaming, but I was so aware of her warm, wet flesh wrapped around my erection. Her head was thrown back, crimson lips parted and dark hair cascading down her back as she used my body for her pleasure.

“Look at you,” I said, confidence surging through me as I saw the pleasure on her face. “So fucking sexy.”

“Your mom’s best friend,” she moaned, grinding down harder. “Riding her son’s cock. So wrong … but you feel so good.”

I thrust upward, meeting her movements, and she gasped. “Yes, just like that,” she encouraged. “Fuck me harder.”

I flipped our positions suddenly, surprising both of us with my strength as I rolled her onto her back. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I began to thrust into her with purpose, her breasts shaking with each impact.

“Oh God,” she moaned, her nails digging into my back. “That’s it, baby, that’s what I needed, a hard, rough fuck.”

I drove into her over and over, watching her face as pleasure overtook her. It was getting steamy, her breath getting hotter as I leaned down, her boobs cushioning my weight. I kissed her neck, and she kissed mine.

“You’re such a great fucker,” she said before gasping in pleasure.

“Turn over,” I said when I felt myself getting too close. “I want to see that ass.”

Vanessa eagerly complied, rolling onto her stomach and raising her hips, presenting herself to me, ass up and face down. I took a moment to appreciate the view, her round ass raised high, her glistening sex visible between her thighs and her back arched as she looked back at me with desire-drunk eyes.

I entered her from behind, gripping her hips as I established a fucking rhythm that had her burying her face in the pillow to muffle her cries. The slap of flesh on flesh filled the room as I watched my cock disappear into her over and over.

“Your mom would kill us,” she moaned into the pillow, “but don’t stop … don’t you dare stop, you little stud.”

Her words pushed me closer to the edge, the taboo of it all heightening every sensation. When I felt her begin to tremble, her inner muscles clamping down on me in rhythmic pulses, I knew she was coming.

My own release built rapidly, pressure mounting at the base of my spine. “I’m close.”

“Finish inside me,” she demanded, pushing back against me. “I want to feel your raw cum inside me.”

Her words shattered my last thread of control. I slammed into her one final time, burying myself to the hilt as pleasure exploded through me. I emptied myself deep inside her, pulse after pulse as she milked every drop from me. I sighed in relief, holding onto her gorgeous ass as I micro-fucked her, feeling my cock getting more and more sensitive. Then I pulled out, seeing her pussy gape open before closing.

We collapsed together onto the bed, sweaty and breathless. She turned in my arms, pressing a tender kiss to my lips.

“That,” she whispered, “was worth waiting for.”

I traced my fingers along her side, still unable to believe what had just happened. “How long have you …?”

“Known you wanted me?” She smiled, brushing hair from my forehead. “Years, but I waited until you were old enough.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “And I’m glad I did. That stamina … just what I needed.”

She kissed me again. “This stays our secret,” she murmured against my lips. “But next time your mommy is out of town, you’re all mine.”

The promise of next time sent a shiver through me, my spent cock already twitching with interest.

Wishing her goodnight, I slipped back to my room twenty minutes later, heart still racing, the scent of Vanessa’s perfume clinging to my skin. As I lay in bed, replaying every moment, I couldn’t suppress the smug satisfaction that warmed my chest. After years of fantasy, I’d finally had Vanessa, Mom’s best friend, writhing beneath me, begging for more.

And from the sounds of it, this was just the beginning.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on PornReads

Summer in the suburbs is a special kind of hell. It’s all burned lawns, the chemical stink of pools and some neighbor’s weed whacker screaming at sunrise. For me, it was worse: both parents worked full time, leaving me to orbit the house like a low-grade asteroid, gym-tan-jerk repeat, nothing to do but scroll and stroke. College was waiting in the fall, and I was waiting for the fall. In the meantime, my only constants were the gym, doom scrolling and my favorite pornstar.

Don’t judge me, but if you typed her name and blowjob compilation into PornSearch, I could probably recite the time stamps from memory. She was the undisputed queen: curvy, confident, busty and thirty-nine and stacked like a Sunday sundae. She always looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, mascara smudged, hair loose in these perfect, thick waves, tank tops stretched tight over D-cups, and lips painted the red of a warning sign. She didn’t just suck dick; she performed it, letting her eyes flutter back like it was a religious experience, showing off spit ropes, humming around the shaft until the guy came too soon, which only made her giggle.

I watched her every morning. Sometimes twice before breakfast. I loved the little things: the way she’d laugh and talk to the camera like she knew you, how she’d taunt her fans with, “Is this how you want it, baby?” And then go deeper, all the way to the base, like she was proving a point. She was like a personal trainer for my cock.

So when the moving truck showed up next door, I was jerking off in my room, headphones on and sweat sticking my balls to my thighs. Mom was gone for a ten-hour shift at the hospital. Dad was on a business trip, which meant I could spank it loud enough to rattle the headboard if I wanted. The video was an old favorite, Ava on her knees in front of some generic pornstar guy, tongue out, rolling the head of his cock on her lips before taking it down with a slurp. She moaned, wet and needy. My hand sped up.

That’s when the doorbell rang.

I yanked up my gym shorts, wiped myself off on the inside, and crept down the stairs, hoping it was a package and not some Jehovah’s Witness.

Through the frosted glass, I could see a silhouette: a woman, taller than my mom, hourglass in profile and brown hair loose. I almost opened the door, but stopped cold. The shape was familiar, but that was impossible, right? I mean, what are the odds?

I peered through the side window, not believing it until she turned and smiled right at me. I recognized that mouth instantly: plump, pillowy and painted red. The eyes behind her sunglasses were emerald green, big and hungry. The kind of face you could recognize even if it was half-hidden behind a twelve-inch cock.

It was her. Ava … my new neighbor?

She waved. I unlocked the door and tried to play it cool. “Hey, can I help you?”

She looked me up and down, one eyebrow raised, smirk already in place. She was wearing yoga shorts, tight, black, the seam disappearing between her cheeks, camel toe visible and a neon pink tank that barely hid a blue bra. “Hi, honey. Sorry to barge in. I think a package for me got delivered here?” Her voice sounded the same as in the videos, sultry but playful, like she was always a half-sentence away from making you hard.

I faked a casual yawn, even though I was still half-chubbed. “Uh, let me check.” I couldn’t remember anything being delivered, but my parents might have accidentally brought in a package. Indeed, there was a box in the foyer. “Oh yeah, sorry about that.”

“It happens, we all make mistakes,” she said with a wink.

I handed it over, but she didn’t take it right away. “Cute shirt,” she said, eyes flicking to the dark spot where pre-cum had bled through my shorts. “You live here?”

I nodded. “Yeah, just me and my parents.”

She looked amused by that. “I’m Ava, just moved in next door. I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other.” She took the box and let her fingers graze my arm, then winked and walked away with an extra swing in her hips, like she knew I was watching, which I was.

I closed the door and tried to breathe. My hands were shaking. My idol, the literal goddess of my wettest dreams, had moved in next door.

For the rest of the day, I didn’t do shit. I kept peeking through the blinds, waiting for another sighting, but her house was quiet. I didn’t even see her car. At night, I tried to go back to my usual routine, but when I pulled up her page, all I could think about was that wink and the smell of her perfume, musky and sweet, and the way she’d looked right at my crotch. I jerked off three times, and every time, I imagined her moaning through my window.

*****

The next morning, I saw movement in her upstairs window. It was the spare bedroom, the one facing my own. There was a tripod set up near the glass, and a ring light, just like the ones she used in her solo videos. I nearly came in my shorts just looking at it.

She appeared wearing a white silk robe, hair loose and wild. She leaned into the camera, adjusted something and then dropped the robe. Underneath: black lingerie, the kind with see-through lace and garter straps. She pulled out a big pink dildo, posed and then spread her legs and started sliding it between her thighs. I couldn’t see everything, but I could see enough.

I sat down at my desk, palming my cock through my gym shorts, afraid to even move the blinds. I felt like a pervert, but couldn’t stop. She bounced on the toy, moaning loud enough that I almost heard it through the window. She kept glancing at my house, at my window, and every time, I ducked, even though I was sure she couldn’t see me.

This became my new summer routine. Every morning, I’d watch her set up, strip, fuck herself silly and then disappear for a shower. Sometimes she’d sunbathe in the backyard, topless, legs open and reading a book like it was nothing. I’d time my jerk sessions to hers, syncing up with her rhythm, trying to cum at the exact moment she did.

One afternoon, I caught her looking right at me. She was lying on her bed, camera pointed down, toy buzzing between her legs. Her lips were parted, eyes glassy, and then, dead center, she locked eyes with my window. She didn’t stop. She started going faster, grinding against her palm, her moans getting louder. I panicked and tried to back away, but I was already too close.

She laughed. Then, eyes locked, she mouthed, “come here.” And blew a kiss.

I nearly exploded.

For the rest of the day, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Every time I walked past my window, I half-expected to see her waiting, maybe beckoning me over with a finger.

But she didn’t, well at least not yet.

Instead, the next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing: a direct message from a burner account.

Hey, neighbor. Like what you see?

My hands were sweating, but I typed back, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.

Another buzz. Don’t be shy. I film for an audience, after all.

I stared at the screen, feeling every inch the idiot and every inch hard. What do you want me to do?

She sent back a video, a slow pan of her in red lace, spreading her pussy with two fingers, the ring light making her look almost angelic. Stroke for me, now.

My eyes widened. What a hot ass woman. I didn’t even hesitate. I unzipped and started jerking, eyes glued to my phone. She sent more: little clips, each dirtier than the last, ending with a selfie of her licking her lips, a single line of cum trailing down her chin. The last message, Bet you’d taste even better.

I came so hard I nearly blacked out.

*****

The next morning, her window was open. She was there, filming, but this time, she waved. I waved back, my cock already swelling. She crooked her finger, beckoning me. I thought I was dreaming, but no, she did crook her finger at me.

Summer break was starting to get interesting.

If you want the truth, I’d planned it out a hundred times in my head. The walk across the driveway, the knock, maybe a neighbor peeking out from behind a curtain, but when it actually happened, it was nothing like the fantasy.

First, I changed shirts three times, then ditched the shirt altogether because I’d read that girls liked a little muscle. Second, I almost chickened out, but her window lit up blue with the ring light, and my dick made the decision for me.

It was barely 10am when I left the house, gym shorts tenting in front. The air was sticky and hot, and I could smell her tangy, musky perfume from the steps. I rang the bell, and the door clicked open. She stood there in a white silk robe, hair damp and wavy, face scrubbed clean except for glossy, plump, red lips and a thick stripe of black mascara.

“Hey,” she said, and I almost died. “Come in. Hope you’re not shy.” She leaned in, the robe slipping open at the chest, showing the slope of one breast, freckled and perfect.

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. “Uh, hi.”

She grinned and pulled me in by the wrist. “You don’t have to be nervous, babe. I’m the same woman you’ve been watching on your laptop.” She shut the door with her heel and padded ahead of me on bare feet, ass bouncing just a little with each step.

“You wanted me to come, right?”

“Yes, dear,” she said with a wink.

The house was half-unpacked, boxes in the hall, a big ring light set up in the living room, tripods and a fancy DSLR. She led me to the kitchen, where two teacups steamed on the counter, and motioned for me to sit.

“Want to tell me how long you’ve been my fan?” she asked, folding herself onto the counter, knees apart, robe riding high on her thighs and handing me a cup of tea.

I felt my face get hot. “Um, couple days, I guess.”

She smiled wider, sipping her tea with a little pinky flick. “Liar. I checked the logs last night. Your screen name’s all over my DMs since last year. That’s you, right? ‘SquatGod69’?”

I wanted to die. “Yeah, that’s … uh, me.”

She giggled. “Thought so. You were always so polite. Nice change from the weirdos.” She tapped her lips, then her chin. “So, are you here for tea or…?”

I took a desperate gulp of my cup. It was somehow exactly how she’d taste: rich, creamy and sweet.

“I … honestly, I can’t believe this is real,” I said. “Are you, like, punking me?”

She slid off the counter, coming close, putting both hands on my chest and looking up at me. “Does this feel like a prank?” She pressed her body against mine, and I realized she was completely naked under the robe. Warmth, skin and the tickle of her hair under my chin. She smelled like sex even before anything happened.

“No.”

“Let’s go upstairs then,” she whispered, nipping my earlobe just enough to make me gasp. She took my hand and led me up, still holding her cup in the other, like we were about to have a totally normal breakfast date.

Her studio was a spare bedroom, already painted pink and mirrors on every wall. The big queen bed was unmade, white sheets tangled. She closed the door, set down her cup, and let the robe slip. I stared. In person, she was even more extreme: breasts huge but natural, heavy with just the right amount of bounce, peachy nipples thick as my thumb, the curve of her waist swooping to a soft belly, hips round and flaring. Her pubic hair was trimmed in a neat little triangle. She caught my gaze and arched her back, showing off.

“Not shy anymore, are you?” she teased me. Then she came over, grabbed the hem of my shorts and yanked them down in one pull. My cock slapped up, embarrassing in how ready it was.

“God, you’re cute,” she said. “Hard before I even touched you.” She circled me, hands on her hips, looking me up and down like I was a menu item. “Show me how you stroke it, like when you watch me.”

I tried to protest, but she just waited, eyebrow cocked, daring me. I started slowly, hand around the base, pumping the way I always did. She knelt in front of me, eyes locked on my cock, and grinned.

“Good boy. Keep going.” She crawled closer, breasts swaying, and when her mouth got level with the tip, she blew a soft, cold breath over it. I moaned.

Taking over, she licked the head slowly, tongue swirling, then pulled back and watched a thread of spit connect us. “I always wondered what my biggest fan tasted like.”

She wrapped her lips around the tip, eyes flicking up to mine, and sucked, just once, all tongue and plush lips, so gentle it almost hurt. Then she started in earnest, bobbing slowly, letting my cock slide over her tongue. Her makeup smudged more with each pass, just like in her videos. I looked down, and she was staring right back up, pupils blown wide, like she was daring me to blink.

She kept both hands on my thighs, nails dragging lightly, and hummed as she sucked my cock. The vibration went all the way up my spine. When she pulled off, the whole shaft was wet and glistening, spit pooling at the base.

“You gonna cum for me?” she asked, voice low. “Or you wanna see how deep I can go first?”

My mouth was useless. “Both?”

She laughed, then opened wide and sank down, deeper than anyone ever had. Her nose pressed into my pelvis, her throat fluttered, and she held there, swallowing around me. I felt the whole world narrow to that moment, her lips, her heat and her eyes locked on mine, daring me to lose it.

She pulled off with a gasp, eyes watering and spit everywhere. “Gimme it. On my tits? Or in my mouth? I know what you like, baby.”

“In your mouth,” I whispered, not even recognizing my own voice.

She winked. “Knew it.” Then she stroked me fast, the way she did on camera, twisting her hand as she sucked the tip, tongue flicking over the slit. She moaned, the sound vibrating through my whole body. I felt it hit, a rush so big I almost blacked out. I closed my eyes, and I could hear the obscene slurping and sucking sounds and the tingling, sweet sensation that was about to spill over to one of the most intense climaxes I’d ever experienced. I opened my eyes and saw how she’d swallowed my entire cock, her throat constricting as she lightly gagged. She pulled back a little, showing off my cock covered in her warm saliva and smudged lipstick. Then she plunged me back down her throat, and I lost it. I came so hard my knees buckled. I held onto her head as I kept shooting my cum down her throat.

She swallowed every drop, pulling back and holding the tip on her tongue before licking her lips clean. “Not bad for a first date, huh?”

I collapsed on the bed. “Geez, that was intense.”

She curled up beside me, head on my shoulder, stroking my chest. “You’re not gonna tell the whole internet, are you?” she asked, lips brushing my ear.

“Who’d believe me?” I said, still dizzy.

She laughed. “Exactly. My little secret.” She flicked my nipple.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“I love taking care of my fans.”

I couldn’t even think. I just nodded, yes to everything.

She kissed me, soft and sweet. “You’re adorable,” she said. “And you taste amazing. Door’s always open … Wait, what’s your name?”

We both chuckled. “My name’s Dylan.”

“My door’s always open to you, Dylan … Now, excuse me, I have work to do. But we’ll find time later, don’t worry, and try not to jerk off too much. I love a big load.”

*****

I stumbled home after, shorts sticky and mind blown. All I could think about was the feeling of her mouth, the look in her eyes, the promise of next time.

Summer break? Best summer of my life.

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on PornReads

I’m nineteen. I just finished my first year at State and, after eight months of fighting for a communal shower and eating ramen out of a coffee mug, I’d landed right back at my mom’s place for the summer, watching the same four porn clips in my bedroom and wondering if a human body could actually adapt to that much lube. My summer gig at the hardware store didn’t start for a week, and my only goals for June were: A, get a tan, B, try to get laid by someone who wasn’t a random girl at a party I didn’t even remember, and C, finally stop watching porn.

I was zero for three.

So that morning, I was stretched across my bed, boxers halfway down my thighs, MacBook propped up on a pillow, and a bright, slippery MILF scene on repeat. Not just any MILF, my obsession was thick assed ones, the kind you only ever see in poolside videos with thirty-minute run times and titles like Sitter’s Anal Examination.

My eyes were glued to the part where the woman took it up the ass and begged for more. It was a compulsion, and I hated myself for it, even as I did it.

I was close, so close, and then I heard my mom’s footsteps in the hallway, which was supposed to be impossible because she always left for yoga by eight. I fumbled for the spacebar, managed to pause right at the perfect moment, a MILF with a huge ass and bright red nails spread for the camera, her face twisted in a perfect porn ‘O’. Too late. The door swung open, and there was my mom, already in her yoga clothes and holding a basket of laundry.

She didn’t scream, or throw anything, or even look particularly shocked. I guess you stop getting surprised after raising a boy for nearly two decades. Instead, she looked at the screen, then at me, then back to the screen.

“Kyle, are you serious right now?”

I scrambled to pull my shorts up, nearly kneed myself in the face in the process. “I—I didn’t know you were back. I thought you were at class.”

Mom set the basket down, crossed her arms and stared me down.

“Do you know how much porn you go through in a week?” she asked, gesturing at the MacBook like it was a crime scene. “I see the WiFi history, Kyle. It’s not just ‘a little’ anymore.”

I blushed so hard my scalp felt hot. “It’s not—”

“It’s not healthy,” she said, all cool and matter-of-fact, like she was discussing cholesterol. “You’re warping your brain. That stuff isn’t what real sex is like.”

I sat up, pulling the covers over my lap even though I wasn’t exactly packing a boner anymore. “Mom, can we not, can you please just knock next time?”

She ignored that, her attention still locked on the frozen frame of the video. “These women aren’t even your age,” she said, almost laughing now. “Is this what you’re into? Big butts, MILFs and…” She leaned in, peered at the screen with a clinical curiosity. “… anal, apparently.”

I wanted to disappear. “It’s just … a thing. I dunno. It’s everywhere now.”

She shook her head, sighing. “It’s not ‘everywhere.’ It’s just on your laptop, because you’ve convinced yourself that’s what you like.” She bent over, clicked the MacBook shut, and handed it to me. “You need to get out of your room and experience real life. You’re nineteen, Kyle. I don’t want you to end up like one of those guys who can’t even talk to a real woman without popping a boner.”

“Jesus, Mom,” I muttered, burying my face in my hands.

She softened a little, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “Hey. I’m not mad at you. I just … I want you to have better.” She looked at me, really looked, and I saw how tired she was. Being a single mom wasn’t easy, not even now, and I could tell she was trying to keep it together for my sake. “You know Carla’s coming over later, right?”

I blinked. “Oh?”

Carla was my mom’s best friend since before I was born, and lately she’d been around our house a lot. Her marriage had blown up last fall, and now she lived two blocks over, always popping by for coffee or wine or just to gossip on the patio. She was the kind of woman who looked like she belonged in those MILF videos: thick, tan, long hair, huge boobs and an ass that turned heads. I’d been low-key crushing on her since sophomore year, but I’d never said a word.

I nodded, trying not to look as excited as I felt. “Okay.”

Mom stood up, brushed imaginary dust off her leggings, and grabbed the laundry basket. “And you’re going to keep your pants on. Deal?”

I tried to joke it off. “Yeah. Guess I’ll save the porn for after you guys are done.”

She gave me a look. “That’s what I’m talking about. You can’t even go a day without making it about sex. I want you to think about that.”

She closed the door and left. I felt like a loser. I wanted to change, to be normal, but the second I let my mind wander, all I could think about was Carla’s ass in her red bikini last Fourth of July, the way she’d giggled when I dropped a sparkler in the pool and had to dive in after it. She’d pulled me out by the waistband, scolded me with a “You’re such a boy,” and I swear she’d looked right at my crotch for half a second.

I heard my phone buzz. A text from Mom, Set up the pool deck chairs for me and Carla. Thanks, honey.

I rolled out of bed, still half-hard, and grabbed a t-shirt from the floor. As I passed the mirror, I caught my reflection, lean, not as ripped as I wanted to be, short brown hair in desperate need of a trim, blue eyes that looked way too guilty for someone who hadn’t technically committed a crime. I yanked on some athletic shorts, hoping my morning wood would chill by the time I got outside.

*****

The backyard was already bright, sunlight bouncing off the pool. Mom was on the patio, talking on the phone. I could hear her voice but not the words. I lined up the pool chairs, grabbed the umbrella from the garage, did all the stuff I was told. As I finished, I saw Carla’s black SUV pulling up at the curb.

She stepped out, sunglasses on, auburn hair loose, and a tight-fitting tank top that hugged her chest like shrink-wrap. She wore cutoffs so short they made Daisy Dukes look modest. She flashed a smile and waved. “Morning, Kyle!”

“Hey,” I said, suddenly aware of the sweat on my neck.

She walked up the path, hips swaying, and I forced myself not to stare, which meant I stared even more. She set her tote bag on the table. We talked a little bit, but it was a bit awkward. Eventually, I excused myself, having ‘stuff’ to do, and Mom gave me a disappointed look.

When I got upstairs, I was camped out in my bedroom, spying through the cracked blinds at the most mind-meltingly hot woman I’d ever known, and she was sprawled topless on a pool chair ten feet from my window.

Carla always did everything at maximum: hair, tan, nails, cleavage and even her laugh. If Mom was a nine, Carla was at least a twelve, every curve poured into a tiny bikini like the packaging barely held. Today she’d picked an orange bikini that was, and I am not exaggerating, three triangles of fabric and a dental floss string. Her DD tits fought the top for dominance, and her ass was so round the chair looked like it was being eaten. The best part? She wore everything like it was normal, like being an absolute bombshell was a casual afterthought.

Mom and Carla were lying side by side, heads tipped together like they were sharing a secret. My window was barely cracked, but I could hear their laughter in snatches.

I knew I shouldn’t stare, but my brain had short-circuited. I just watched, the ache in my shorts returning, and the guilt flaring up along with it. Mom had left me alone with my thoughts all morning, but now, seeing her with Carla, I suspected she’d totally set me up. She wanted me close to temptation, hoping maybe I’d break the cycle or whatever.

I ducked as Mom sat up, stretching. “You’re sure you don’t mind cooking dinner for him?” she asked, lowering her sunglasses.

Carla scoffed. “Laura, I used to babysit the kid. I can handle him.”

“He’s nineteen,” Mom said, but she was smiling. “And he still can’t keep his room clean.”

Carla rolled her eyes. “Let him be a boy while he can.”

Mom leaned in, voice dropping. I had to really focus to make out the words. “He’s got a … thing, Carla. Anal porn. It’s all over the WiFi logs. He’s obsessed.”

Carla chuckled. “Sweetie, if that’s the worst habit he’s got, you’re lucky.”

Mom wasn’t laughing. “I mean it. I want him to have a normal life. You know what porn does to boys, he won’t even try with real girls, he just … watches. I can’t fix it. I thought maybe you could talk to him?”

So what I suspected was true, and then Carla said, “You think he wants to talk to me, or bend me over a table?”

Mom laughed. “You’d probably give him a heart attack, just … help him. I trust you.” Then she added, “And if you can get him to promise to quit, I’ll buy you dinner for a week.”

Carla pursed her lips, pretending to think. “You have a deal.” She turned her face toward the sun, totally relaxed. “No one’s ever OD’ed on ass, Laura.”

Mom shook her head, stood, and walked inside, already dialing someone on her phone.

A couple of minutes later, Mom yelled up the stairs, “Kyle! Come say goodbye, I’m leaving!”

I jogged down, pretending I hadn’t just been stalking her best friend like a pervert. “I’ll eat dinner with my sister and be back late.”

“Alright, have fun you two.”

“Don’t wait up,” she said, and kissed my cheek. “Carla will make dinner. She’s in charge.”

I nodded, barely listening. Carla came in from the patio, wearing her tank top and the cutoffs. Her auburn hair was loose, brushing her shoulders. She looked at my mom, then at me, her lips curling in a smirk.

“Call me if there is anything,” Mom said, and she was gone, the front door closing behind her. It was just me and Carla now.

She waited until the car pulled away, then dropped her tank top on the back of a chair and stretched. Her nipples showed through the skimpy bikini, and she pretended not to notice me staring.

“You like swimming?” she said, grabbing a towel.

“Uh … yeah, I guess,” I said, which was a lie. I hated swimming, but I’d jump off a cliff if she asked.

“Good. Meet me outside. You can’t just stay in your room all day,” she said, and sauntered out, bare feet slapping against the tile.

I followed. Carla sat at the edge, dipping her legs in. The orange bikini barely covered anything. She smiled at me.

“Sit down,” she said, patting the spot next to her. “Don’t be shy.”

I sat down next to her. Even if she was hot, she was a bit intimidating.

“Your mom tells me you’ve got a thing for asses,” she said, her voice low.

I turned red, stammering. “I, she, she exaggerates—”

Carla burst out laughing, cuffed me on the arm. “Relax. There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you like. But you’re wasting your time with videos. Real life is better.” She looked out over the pool. “You ever been with an older woman?”

“No,” I said, voice cracking like I was thirteen again.

She made an appreciative sound, like she liked the answer. “You want to be?”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

“Then you’re going to do exactly what I say,” she said, standing. “Start by getting my back.” She tossed me a bottle of oil, lay face-down on the pool chair and untied her bikini top, letting it fall open.

My hands shook as I poured the oil and started at her shoulders, working my way down. Her skin was soft and warm from the sun. I’d never touched anyone like this before, and my dick was instantly hard, pressed awkwardly into my shorts. I lingered at her lower back, just above her ass.

“Don’t be shy, Kyle,” she said, not looking up. “Get it everywhere.”

I did, sliding my hands over the curve of her ass, kneading the flesh. She moaned and arched her back. “That’s nice,” she said. “Now undo my bottoms.”

I blinked, but she snapped, “Go on.”

I tugged the string, and the bottoms came loose. She shimmied out of them, ass fully exposed, tight and round and utterly perfect. I stared, unable to help myself. It was super smooth with not a wrinkle in sight, just country miles of ass.

“You ever eat ass before?” she asked, rolling over to face me, tits out, nipples dark and stiff.

I stammered, “No, I mean, I’ve seen it, but—”

She cut me off with a grin. “There’s a first time for everything.” She sat up, pulled me by the front of my shirt, and kissed me, which caught me off guard, but I didn’t fight it. She sucked on my bottom lip, then whispered, “You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?”

I nodded, heart in my throat.

She stood, pulling me up with her. “Let’s go inside,” she said. “The neighbors are nosy.”

I followed her up the stairs, watching the muscles in her ass flex with every step.

“Your bedroom … or your mom’s?” she asked with a grin.

“I think mine works … I got a queen-sized bed.”

She giggled, and I opened and welcomed her inside, not sure what awaited me. In my room, she turned, shoved me onto the bed, and knelt between my legs. She peeled off my shorts, freeing my cock, which was rock hard and leaking.

She whistled, impressed. “Damn, your mom did not tell me about this part,” she said, wrapping her hand around the base. “You ever used it for real?”

I shook my head, too stunned to lie.

She grinned, then leaned in and took me in her mouth, slow and deep, her tongue working the underside while her hand stroked the shaft. She was relentless, and I had to clench my fists to keep from exploding right away. She pulled off, saliva trailing from her lips, trickling onto my shaft and pooling at the base, and smiled.

“Not bad,” she said, then straddled my chest, her ass inches from my face. “Your turn.”

She guided my hands to her cheeks, spread them, and bent forward. I paused, thinking I was dreaming, but she reached back and pulled my head in. I tongued her, shy at first, but she kept urging me deeper, talking dirty the whole time.

“That’s it. Right there, Kyle. God, you’re a natural. You like my ass?”

I couldn’t even talk, just moaned into her and licked her beautiful ass right on the rim. I couldn’t get enough of her rosebud and that wonderful crack. She squirmed, getting wetter by the second, and finally reached for the lube on my nightstand.

She slicked her fingers, worked them into herself, two, then three, then she looked over her shoulder and said, “You ready to try for real?”

I nodded. She rolled over onto all fours, waving her ass at me, and lined herself up. “Go slow,” she said. “Take your time.”

I positioned myself behind her, tip at her entrance, and pushed. She was so tight it almost hurt, but Carla just grunted, reached back and guided me in.

“More,” she said. “You’re not going to break me.”

I pushed, sinking all the way to the base, and she gasped, clutching the sheets.

“Fuck, that’s good. Now fuck me.”

I did, slow at first, then faster as she urged me on. The sounds were obscene, slapping flesh, breathy moans and her nails tearing at my bedsheets. She kept up a stream of encouragement, mixing dirty talk with praise.

“Good boy. You like that ass? You’ll never need porn again. No screen can beat this.”

“I’m in heaven.”

“Oh, yeah? Let me ride you,” she said.

I pulled out from her gaping ass, and she pushed me onto my bed. Before I could process what was happening, Carla straddled me backward, her incredible ass facing me as she reached between her legs to grip my slick cock. She positioned herself over me, and she lowered down. I watched, mesmerized, as my thickness disappeared inch by inch into her tight backdoor.

“Wow,” I said, gripping her hips.

Carla looked over her shoulder, her auburn hair cascading down her back. “You like this view better, don’t you?”

I couldn’t even form words. The sight of her ass bouncing on my cock was better than any porn I’d ever seen. She worked herself up and down, controlling the pace, taking me deeper with each drop. Her ass jiggled with every movement, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

“Touch me,” she said, guiding my hands to her ass cheeks.

I squeezed the flesh, spreading her wider, watching my cock disappear and reappear. The visual was overwhelming, her curves, the way she took all of me and how she twisted her hips in circles when I was deep inside.

“I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,” I told her, feeling the pressure building.

She lifted herself off my cock, and it landed with a smack onto my waist. She only gave me a couple of seconds to breathe.

She rolled onto her back, pulled her knees to her chest, and spread them wide. “Anal missionary,” she whispered. “I want to see your face when you fill my ass.”

I positioned myself between her legs, guided my cock back to her ass, and pushed forward. I could see every expression on her face as I penetrated her rosebud.

“That’s it,” she said, reaching up to grip my shoulders. “Fuck me deep.”

I thrust into her, watching her eyes roll back, her tits bouncing with each impact. The pressure was building again and this time I couldn’t hold back.

“I’m gonna come,” I panted.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said with a wink, squeezing her D cup tits together and forming them into a deep cleavage.

I fucked her ass ten more times, and then the friction became so intense I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

I buried myself to the hilt and came hard, pumping load after load deep into her ass. The orgasm was so intense I saw stars. I kept thrusting through it, riding out every pulse until I was completely drained and I’d soaked her ass.

When I finally pulled out, her rim gripping my cock, I stared in awe at what I’d done. My cum was leaking from her ass, a perfect creampie just like in the videos, except this was real, warm and wet and right in front of me.

“Fuck,” I whispered, unable to look away.

Carla propped herself up on her elbows, looking thoroughly satisfied. “So,” she said with a knowing smile, “better than porn?”

“God, yes,” I answered immediately. “Nothing even comes close.”

She reached out, stroked my cheek with her thumb. “You know, Kyle, my backdoor is always open to you.” Her eyes locked with mine, suddenly serious. “But only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” I said, still riding the high.

“No more porn. Not ever. Why watch when you can have the real thing?”

I nodded eagerly. “I promise. I don’t need it anymore.”

She smiled, pulled me down for a kiss. “Good boy.”

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on PornReads

I’m nineteen. I just finished my first year at State and, after eight months of fighting for a communal shower and eating ramen out of a coffee mug, I’d landed right back at my mom’s place for the summer, watching the same four porn clips in my bedroom and wondering if a human body could actually adapt to that much lube. My summer gig at the hardware store didn’t start for a week, and my only goals for June were: A, get a tan, B, try to get laid by someone who wasn’t a random girl at a party I didn’t even remember, and C, finally stop watching porn.

I was zero for three.

So that morning, I was stretched across my bed, boxers halfway down my thighs, MacBook propped up on a pillow, and a bright, slippery MILF scene on repeat. Not just any MILF, my obsession was thick assed ones, the kind you only ever see in poolside videos with thirty-minute run times and titles like Sitter’s Anal Examination.

My eyes were glued to the part where the woman took it up the ass and begged for more. It was a compulsion, and I hated myself for it, even as I did it.

I was close, so close, and then I heard my mom’s footsteps in the hallway, which was supposed to be impossible because she always left for yoga by eight. I fumbled for the spacebar, managed to pause right at the perfect moment, a MILF with a huge ass and bright red nails spread for the camera, her face twisted in a perfect porn ‘O’. Too late. The door swung open, and there was my mom, already in her yoga clothes and holding a basket of laundry.

She didn’t scream, or throw anything, or even look particularly shocked. I guess you stop getting surprised after raising a boy for nearly two decades. Instead, she looked at the screen, then at me, then back to the screen.

“Kyle, are you serious right now?”

I scrambled to pull my shorts up, nearly kneed myself in the face in the process. “I—I didn’t know you were back. I thought you were at class.”

Mom set the basket down, crossed her arms and stared me down.

“Do you know how much porn you go through in a week?” she asked, gesturing at the MacBook like it was a crime scene. “I see the WiFi history, Kyle. It’s not just ‘a little’ anymore.”

I blushed so hard my scalp felt hot. “It’s not—”

“It’s not healthy,” she said, all cool and matter-of-fact, like she was discussing cholesterol. “You’re warping your brain. That stuff isn’t what real sex is like.”

I sat up, pulling the covers over my lap even though I wasn’t exactly packing a boner anymore. “Mom, can we not, can you please just knock next time?”

She ignored that, her attention still locked on the frozen frame of the video. “These women aren’t even your age,” she said, almost laughing now. “Is this what you’re into? Big butts, MILFs and…” She leaned in, peered at the screen with a clinical curiosity. “… anal, apparently.”

I wanted to disappear. “It’s just … a thing. I dunno. It’s everywhere now.”

She shook her head, sighing. “It’s not ‘everywhere.’ It’s just on your laptop, because you’ve convinced yourself that’s what you like.” She bent over, clicked the MacBook shut, and handed it to me. “You need to get out of your room and experience real life. You’re nineteen, Kyle. I don’t want you to end up like one of those guys who can’t even talk to a real woman without popping a boner.”

“Jesus, Mom,” I muttered, burying my face in my hands.

She softened a little, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “Hey. I’m not mad at you. I just … I want you to have better.” She looked at me, really looked, and I saw how tired she was. Being a single mom wasn’t easy, not even now, and I could tell she was trying to keep it together for my sake. “You know Carla’s coming over later, right?”

I blinked. “Oh?”

Carla was my mom’s best friend since before I was born, and lately she’d been around our house a lot. Her marriage had blown up last fall, and now she lived two blocks over, always popping by for coffee or wine or just to gossip on the patio. She was the kind of woman who looked like she belonged in those MILF videos: thick, tan, long hair, huge boobs and an ass that turned heads. I’d been low-key crushing on her since sophomore year, but I’d never said a word.

I nodded, trying not to look as excited as I felt. “Okay.”

Mom stood up, brushed imaginary dust off her leggings, and grabbed the laundry basket. “And you’re going to keep your pants on. Deal?”

I tried to joke it off. “Yeah. Guess I’ll save the porn for after you guys are done.”

She gave me a look. “That’s what I’m talking about. You can’t even go a day without making it about sex. I want you to think about that.”

She closed the door and left. I felt like a loser. I wanted to change, to be normal, but the second I let my mind wander, all I could think about was Carla’s ass in her red bikini last Fourth of July, the way she’d giggled when I dropped a sparkler in the pool and had to dive in after it. She’d pulled me out by the waistband, scolded me with a “You’re such a boy,” and I swear she’d looked right at my crotch for half a second.

I heard my phone buzz. A text from Mom, Set up the pool deck chairs for me and Carla. Thanks, honey.

I rolled out of bed, still half-hard, and grabbed a t-shirt from the floor. As I passed the mirror, I caught my reflection, lean, not as ripped as I wanted to be, short brown hair in desperate need of a trim, blue eyes that looked way too guilty for someone who hadn’t technically committed a crime. I yanked on some athletic shorts, hoping my morning wood would chill by the time I got outside.

*****

The backyard was already bright, sunlight bouncing off the pool. Mom was on the patio, talking on the phone. I could hear her voice but not the words. I lined up the pool chairs, grabbed the umbrella from the garage, did all the stuff I was told. As I finished, I saw Carla’s black SUV pulling up at the curb.

She stepped out, sunglasses on, auburn hair loose, and a tight-fitting tank top that hugged her chest like shrink-wrap. She wore cutoffs so short they made Daisy Dukes look modest. She flashed a smile and waved. “Morning, Kyle!”

“Hey,” I said, suddenly aware of the sweat on my neck.

She walked up the path, hips swaying, and I forced myself not to stare, which meant I stared even more. She set her tote bag on the table. We talked a little bit, but it was a bit awkward. Eventually, I excused myself, having ‘stuff’ to do, and Mom gave me a disappointed look.

When I got upstairs, I was camped out in my bedroom, spying through the cracked blinds at the most mind-meltingly hot woman I’d ever known, and she was sprawled topless on a pool chair ten feet from my window.

Carla always did everything at maximum: hair, tan, nails, cleavage and even her laugh. If Mom was a nine, Carla was at least a twelve, every curve poured into a tiny bikini like the packaging barely held. Today she’d picked an orange bikini that was, and I am not exaggerating, three triangles of fabric and a dental floss string. Her DD tits fought the top for dominance, and her ass was so round the chair looked like it was being eaten. The best part? She wore everything like it was normal, like being an absolute bombshell was a casual afterthought.

Mom and Carla were lying side by side, heads tipped together like they were sharing a secret. My window was barely cracked, but I could hear their laughter in snatches.

I knew I shouldn’t stare, but my brain had short-circuited. I just watched, the ache in my shorts returning, and the guilt flaring up along with it. Mom had left me alone with my thoughts all morning, but now, seeing her with Carla, I suspected she’d totally set me up. She wanted me close to temptation, hoping maybe I’d break the cycle or whatever.

I ducked as Mom sat up, stretching. “You’re sure you don’t mind cooking dinner for him?” she asked, lowering her sunglasses.

Carla scoffed. “Laura, I used to babysit the kid. I can handle him.”

“He’s nineteen,” Mom said, but she was smiling. “And he still can’t keep his room clean.”

Carla rolled her eyes. “Let him be a boy while he can.”

Mom leaned in, voice dropping. I had to really focus to make out the words. “He’s got a … thing, Carla. Anal porn. It’s all over the WiFi logs. He’s obsessed.”

Carla chuckled. “Sweetie, if that’s the worst habit he’s got, you’re lucky.”

Mom wasn’t laughing. “I mean it. I want him to have a normal life. You know what porn does to boys, he won’t even try with real girls, he just … watches. I can’t fix it. I thought maybe you could talk to him?”

So what I suspected was true, and then Carla said, “You think he wants to talk to me, or bend me over a table?”

Mom laughed. “You’d probably give him a heart attack, just … help him. I trust you.” Then she added, “And if you can get him to promise to quit, I’ll buy you dinner for a week.”

Carla pursed her lips, pretending to think. “You have a deal.” She turned her face toward the sun, totally relaxed. “No one’s ever OD’ed on ass, Laura.”

Mom shook her head, stood, and walked inside, already dialing someone on her phone.

A couple of minutes later, Mom yelled up the stairs, “Kyle! Come say goodbye, I’m leaving!”

I jogged down, pretending I hadn’t just been stalking her best friend like a pervert. “I’ll eat dinner with my sister and be back late.”

“Alright, have fun you two.”

“Don’t wait up,” she said, and kissed my cheek. “Carla will make dinner. She’s in charge.”

I nodded, barely listening. Carla came in from the patio, wearing her tank top and the cutoffs. Her auburn hair was loose, brushing her shoulders. She looked at my mom, then at me, her lips curling in a smirk.

“Call me if there is anything,” Mom said, and she was gone, the front door closing behind her. It was just me and Carla now.

She waited until the car pulled away, then dropped her tank top on the back of a chair and stretched. Her nipples showed through the skimpy bikini, and she pretended not to notice me staring.

“You like swimming?” she said, grabbing a towel.

“Uh … yeah, I guess,” I said, which was a lie. I hated swimming, but I’d jump off a cliff if she asked.

“Good. Meet me outside. You can’t just stay in your room all day,” she said, and sauntered out, bare feet slapping against the tile.

I followed. Carla sat at the edge, dipping her legs in. The orange bikini barely covered anything. She smiled at me.

“Sit down,” she said, patting the spot next to her. “Don’t be shy.”

I sat down next to her. Even if she was hot, she was a bit intimidating.

“Your mom tells me you’ve got a thing for asses,” she said, her voice low.

I turned red, stammering. “I, she, she exaggerates—”

Carla burst out laughing, cuffed me on the arm. “Relax. There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you like. But you’re wasting your time with videos. Real life is better.” She looked out over the pool. “You ever been with an older woman?”

“No,” I said, voice cracking like I was thirteen again.

She made an appreciative sound, like she liked the answer. “You want to be?”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

“Then you’re going to do exactly what I say,” she said, standing. “Start by getting my back.” She tossed me a bottle of oil, lay face-down on the pool chair and untied her bikini top, letting it fall open.

My hands shook as I poured the oil and started at her shoulders, working my way down. Her skin was soft and warm from the sun. I’d never touched anyone like this before, and my dick was instantly hard, pressed awkwardly into my shorts. I lingered at her lower back, just above her ass.

“Don’t be shy, Kyle,” she said, not looking up. “Get it everywhere.”

I did, sliding my hands over the curve of her ass, kneading the flesh. She moaned and arched her back. “That’s nice,” she said. “Now undo my bottoms.”

I blinked, but she snapped, “Go on.”

I tugged the string, and the bottoms came loose. She shimmied out of them, ass fully exposed, tight and round and utterly perfect. I stared, unable to help myself. It was super smooth with not a wrinkle in sight, just country miles of ass.

“You ever eat ass before?” she asked, rolling over to face me, tits out, nipples dark and stiff.

I stammered, “No, I mean, I’ve seen it, but—”

She cut me off with a grin. “There’s a first time for everything.” She sat up, pulled me by the front of my shirt, and kissed me, which caught me off guard, but I didn’t fight it. She sucked on my bottom lip, then whispered, “You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?”

I nodded, heart in my throat.

She stood, pulling me up with her. “Let’s go inside,” she said. “The neighbors are nosy.”

I followed her up the stairs, watching the muscles in her ass flex with every step.

“Your bedroom … or your mom’s?” she asked with a grin.

“I think mine works … I got a queen-sized bed.”

She giggled, and I opened and welcomed her inside, not sure what awaited me. In my room, she turned, shoved me onto the bed, and knelt between my legs. She peeled off my shorts, freeing my cock, which was rock hard and leaking.

She whistled, impressed. “Damn, your mom did not tell me about this part,” she said, wrapping her hand around the base. “You ever used it for real?”

I shook my head, too stunned to lie.

She grinned, then leaned in and took me in her mouth, slow and deep, her tongue working the underside while her hand stroked the shaft. She was relentless, and I had to clench my fists to keep from exploding right away. She pulled off, saliva trailing from her lips, trickling onto my shaft and pooling at the base, and smiled.

“Not bad,” she said, then straddled my chest, her ass inches from my face. “Your turn.”

She guided my hands to her cheeks, spread them, and bent forward. I paused, thinking I was dreaming, but she reached back and pulled my head in. I tongued her, shy at first, but she kept urging me deeper, talking dirty the whole time.

“That’s it. Right there, Kyle. God, you’re a natural. You like my ass?”

I couldn’t even talk, just moaned into her and licked her beautiful ass right on the rim. I couldn’t get enough of her rosebud and that wonderful crack. She squirmed, getting wetter by the second, and finally reached for the lube on my nightstand.

She slicked her fingers, worked them into herself, two, then three, then she looked over her shoulder and said, “You ready to try for real?”

I nodded. She rolled over onto all fours, waving her ass at me, and lined herself up. “Go slow,” she said. “Take your time.”

I positioned myself behind her, tip at her entrance, and pushed. She was so tight it almost hurt, but Carla just grunted, reached back and guided me in.

“More,” she said. “You’re not going to break me.”

I pushed, sinking all the way to the base, and she gasped, clutching the sheets.

“Fuck, that’s good. Now fuck me.”

I did, slow at first, then faster as she urged me on. The sounds were obscene, slapping flesh, breathy moans and her nails tearing at my bedsheets. She kept up a stream of encouragement, mixing dirty talk with praise.

“Good boy. You like that ass? You’ll never need porn again. No screen can beat this.”

“I’m in heaven.”

“Oh, yeah? Let me ride you,” she said.

I pulled out from her gaping ass, and she pushed me onto my bed. Before I could process what was happening, Carla straddled me backward, her incredible ass facing me as she reached between her legs to grip my slick cock. She positioned herself over me, and she lowered down. I watched, mesmerized, as my thickness disappeared inch by inch into her tight backdoor.

“Wow,” I said, gripping her hips.

Carla looked over her shoulder, her auburn hair cascading down her back. “You like this view better, don’t you?”

I couldn’t even form words. The sight of her ass bouncing on my cock was better than any porn I’d ever seen. She worked herself up and down, controlling the pace, taking me deeper with each drop. Her ass jiggled with every movement, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

“Touch me,” she said, guiding my hands to her ass cheeks.

I squeezed the flesh, spreading her wider, watching my cock disappear and reappear. The visual was overwhelming, her curves, the way she took all of me and how she twisted her hips in circles when I was deep inside.

“I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,” I told her, feeling the pressure building.

She lifted herself off my cock, and it landed with a smack onto my waist. She only gave me a couple of seconds to breathe.

She rolled onto her back, pulled her knees to her chest, and spread them wide. “Anal missionary,” she whispered. “I want to see your face when you fill my ass.”

I positioned myself between her legs, guided my cock back to her ass, and pushed forward. I could see every expression on her face as I penetrated her rosebud.

“That’s it,” she said, reaching up to grip my shoulders. “Fuck me deep.”

I thrust into her, watching her eyes roll back, her tits bouncing with each impact. The pressure was building again and this time I couldn’t hold back.

“I’m gonna come,” I panted.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said with a wink, squeezing her D cup tits together and forming them into a deep cleavage.

I fucked her ass ten more times, and then the friction became so intense I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

I buried myself to the hilt and came hard, pumping load after load deep into her ass. The orgasm was so intense I saw stars. I kept thrusting through it, riding out every pulse until I was completely drained and I’d soaked her ass.

When I finally pulled out, her rim gripping my cock, I stared in awe at what I’d done. My cum was leaking from her ass, a perfect creampie just like in the videos, except this was real, warm and wet and right in front of me.

“Fuck,” I whispered, unable to look away.

Carla propped herself up on her elbows, looking thoroughly satisfied. “So,” she said with a knowing smile, “better than porn?”

“God, yes,” I answered immediately. “Nothing even comes close.”

She reached out, stroked my cheek with her thumb. “You know, Kyle, my backdoor is always open to you.” Her eyes locked with mine, suddenly serious. “But only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” I said, still riding the high.

“No more porn. Not ever. Why watch when you can have the real thing?”

I nodded eagerly. “I promise. I don’t need it anymore.”

She smiled, pulled me down for a kiss. “Good boy.”

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on PornReads

I’m nineteen. I just finished my first year at State and, after eight months of fighting for a communal shower and eating ramen out of a coffee mug, I’d landed right back at my mom’s place for the summer, watching the same four porn clips in my bedroom and wondering if a human body could actually adapt to that much lube. My summer gig at the hardware store didn’t start for a week, and my only goals for June were: A, get a tan, B, try to get laid by someone who wasn’t a random girl at a party I didn’t even remember, and C, finally stop watching porn.

I was zero for three.

So that morning, I was stretched across my bed, boxers halfway down my thighs, MacBook propped up on a pillow, and a bright, slippery MILF scene on repeat. Not just any MILF, my obsession was thick assed ones, the kind you only ever see in poolside videos with thirty-minute run times and titles like Sitter’s Anal Examination.

My eyes were glued to the part where the woman took it up the ass and begged for more. It was a compulsion, and I hated myself for it, even as I did it.

I was close, so close, and then I heard my mom’s footsteps in the hallway, which was supposed to be impossible because she always left for yoga by eight. I fumbled for the spacebar, managed to pause right at the perfect moment, a MILF with a huge ass and bright red nails spread for the camera, her face twisted in a perfect porn ‘O’. Too late. The door swung open, and there was my mom, already in her yoga clothes and holding a basket of laundry.

She didn’t scream, or throw anything, or even look particularly shocked. I guess you stop getting surprised after raising a boy for nearly two decades. Instead, she looked at the screen, then at me, then back to the screen.

“Kyle, are you serious right now?”

I scrambled to pull my shorts up, nearly kneed myself in the face in the process. “I—I didn’t know you were back. I thought you were at class.”

Mom set the basket down, crossed her arms and stared me down.

“Do you know how much porn you go through in a week?” she asked, gesturing at the MacBook like it was a crime scene. “I see the WiFi history, Kyle. It’s not just ‘a little’ anymore.”

I blushed so hard my scalp felt hot. “It’s not—”

“It’s not healthy,” she said, all cool and matter-of-fact, like she was discussing cholesterol. “You’re warping your brain. That stuff isn’t what real sex is like.”

I sat up, pulling the covers over my lap even though I wasn’t exactly packing a boner anymore. “Mom, can we not, can you please just knock next time?”

She ignored that, her attention still locked on the frozen frame of the video. “These women aren’t even your age,” she said, almost laughing now. “Is this what you’re into? Big butts, MILFs and…” She leaned in, peered at the screen with a clinical curiosity. “… anal, apparently.”

I wanted to disappear. “It’s just … a thing. I dunno. It’s everywhere now.”

She shook her head, sighing. “It’s not ‘everywhere.’ It’s just on your laptop, because you’ve convinced yourself that’s what you like.” She bent over, clicked the MacBook shut, and handed it to me. “You need to get out of your room and experience real life. You’re nineteen, Kyle. I don’t want you to end up like one of those guys who can’t even talk to a real woman without popping a boner.”

“Jesus, Mom,” I muttered, burying my face in my hands.

She softened a little, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “Hey. I’m not mad at you. I just … I want you to have better.” She looked at me, really looked, and I saw how tired she was. Being a single mom wasn’t easy, not even now, and I could tell she was trying to keep it together for my sake. “You know Carla’s coming over later, right?”

I blinked. “Oh?”

Carla was my mom’s best friend since before I was born, and lately she’d been around our house a lot. Her marriage had blown up last fall, and now she lived two blocks over, always popping by for coffee or wine or just to gossip on the patio. She was the kind of woman who looked like she belonged in those MILF videos: thick, tan, long hair, huge boobs and an ass that turned heads. I’d been low-key crushing on her since sophomore year, but I’d never said a word.

I nodded, trying not to look as excited as I felt. “Okay.”

Mom stood up, brushed imaginary dust off her leggings, and grabbed the laundry basket. “And you’re going to keep your pants on. Deal?”

I tried to joke it off. “Yeah. Guess I’ll save the porn for after you guys are done.”

She gave me a look. “That’s what I’m talking about. You can’t even go a day without making it about sex. I want you to think about that.”

She closed the door and left. I felt like a loser. I wanted to change, to be normal, but the second I let my mind wander, all I could think about was Carla’s ass in her red bikini last Fourth of July, the way she’d giggled when I dropped a sparkler in the pool and had to dive in after it. She’d pulled me out by the waistband, scolded me with a “You’re such a boy,” and I swear she’d looked right at my crotch for half a second.

I heard my phone buzz. A text from Mom, Set up the pool deck chairs for me and Carla. Thanks, honey.

I rolled out of bed, still half-hard, and grabbed a t-shirt from the floor. As I passed the mirror, I caught my reflection, lean, not as ripped as I wanted to be, short brown hair in desperate need of a trim, blue eyes that looked way too guilty for someone who hadn’t technically committed a crime. I yanked on some athletic shorts, hoping my morning wood would chill by the time I got outside.

*****

The backyard was already bright, sunlight bouncing off the pool. Mom was on the patio, talking on the phone. I could hear her voice but not the words. I lined up the pool chairs, grabbed the umbrella from the garage, did all the stuff I was told. As I finished, I saw Carla’s black SUV pulling up at the curb.

She stepped out, sunglasses on, auburn hair loose, and a tight-fitting tank top that hugged her chest like shrink-wrap. She wore cutoffs so short they made Daisy Dukes look modest. She flashed a smile and waved. “Morning, Kyle!”

“Hey,” I said, suddenly aware of the sweat on my neck.

She walked up the path, hips swaying, and I forced myself not to stare, which meant I stared even more. She set her tote bag on the table. We talked a little bit, but it was a bit awkward. Eventually, I excused myself, having ‘stuff’ to do, and Mom gave me a disappointed look.

When I got upstairs, I was camped out in my bedroom, spying through the cracked blinds at the most mind-meltingly hot woman I’d ever known, and she was sprawled topless on a pool chair ten feet from my window.

Carla always did everything at maximum: hair, tan, nails, cleavage and even her laugh. If Mom was a nine, Carla was at least a twelve, every curve poured into a tiny bikini like the packaging barely held. Today she’d picked an orange bikini that was, and I am not exaggerating, three triangles of fabric and a dental floss string. Her DD tits fought the top for dominance, and her ass was so round the chair looked like it was being eaten. The best part? She wore everything like it was normal, like being an absolute bombshell was a casual afterthought.

Mom and Carla were lying side by side, heads tipped together like they were sharing a secret. My window was barely cracked, but I could hear their laughter in snatches.

I knew I shouldn’t stare, but my brain had short-circuited. I just watched, the ache in my shorts returning, and the guilt flaring up along with it. Mom had left me alone with my thoughts all morning, but now, seeing her with Carla, I suspected she’d totally set me up. She wanted me close to temptation, hoping maybe I’d break the cycle or whatever.

I ducked as Mom sat up, stretching. “You’re sure you don’t mind cooking dinner for him?” she asked, lowering her sunglasses.

Carla scoffed. “Laura, I used to babysit the kid. I can handle him.”

“He’s nineteen,” Mom said, but she was smiling. “And he still can’t keep his room clean.”

Carla rolled her eyes. “Let him be a boy while he can.”

Mom leaned in, voice dropping. I had to really focus to make out the words. “He’s got a … thing, Carla. Anal porn. It’s all over the WiFi logs. He’s obsessed.”

Carla chuckled. “Sweetie, if that’s the worst habit he’s got, you’re lucky.”

Mom wasn’t laughing. “I mean it. I want him to have a normal life. You know what porn does to boys, he won’t even try with real girls, he just … watches. I can’t fix it. I thought maybe you could talk to him?”

So what I suspected was true, and then Carla said, “You think he wants to talk to me, or bend me over a table?”

Mom laughed. “You’d probably give him a heart attack, just … help him. I trust you.” Then she added, “And if you can get him to promise to quit, I’ll buy you dinner for a week.”

Carla pursed her lips, pretending to think. “You have a deal.” She turned her face toward the sun, totally relaxed. “No one’s ever OD’ed on ass, Laura.”

Mom shook her head, stood, and walked inside, already dialing someone on her phone.

A couple of minutes later, Mom yelled up the stairs, “Kyle! Come say goodbye, I’m leaving!”

I jogged down, pretending I hadn’t just been stalking her best friend like a pervert. “I’ll eat dinner with my sister and be back late.”

“Alright, have fun you two.”

“Don’t wait up,” she said, and kissed my cheek. “Carla will make dinner. She’s in charge.”

I nodded, barely listening. Carla came in from the patio, wearing her tank top and the cutoffs. Her auburn hair was loose, brushing her shoulders. She looked at my mom, then at me, her lips curling in a smirk.

“Call me if there is anything,” Mom said, and she was gone, the front door closing behind her. It was just me and Carla now.

She waited until the car pulled away, then dropped her tank top on the back of a chair and stretched. Her nipples showed through the skimpy bikini, and she pretended not to notice me staring.

“You like swimming?” she said, grabbing a towel.

“Uh … yeah, I guess,” I said, which was a lie. I hated swimming, but I’d jump off a cliff if she asked.

“Good. Meet me outside. You can’t just stay in your room all day,” she said, and sauntered out, bare feet slapping against the tile.

I followed. Carla sat at the edge, dipping her legs in. The orange bikini barely covered anything. She smiled at me.

“Sit down,” she said, patting the spot next to her. “Don’t be shy.”

I sat down next to her. Even if she was hot, she was a bit intimidating.

“Your mom tells me you’ve got a thing for asses,” she said, her voice low.

I turned red, stammering. “I, she, she exaggerates—”

Carla burst out laughing, cuffed me on the arm. “Relax. There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you like. But you’re wasting your time with videos. Real life is better.” She looked out over the pool. “You ever been with an older woman?”

“No,” I said, voice cracking like I was thirteen again.

She made an appreciative sound, like she liked the answer. “You want to be?”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

“Then you’re going to do exactly what I say,” she said, standing. “Start by getting my back.” She tossed me a bottle of oil, lay face-down on the pool chair and untied her bikini top, letting it fall open.

My hands shook as I poured the oil and started at her shoulders, working my way down. Her skin was soft and warm from the sun. I’d never touched anyone like this before, and my dick was instantly hard, pressed awkwardly into my shorts. I lingered at her lower back, just above her ass.

“Don’t be shy, Kyle,” she said, not looking up. “Get it everywhere.”

I did, sliding my hands over the curve of her ass, kneading the flesh. She moaned and arched her back. “That’s nice,” she said. “Now undo my bottoms.”

I blinked, but she snapped, “Go on.”

I tugged the string, and the bottoms came loose. She shimmied out of them, ass fully exposed, tight and round and utterly perfect. I stared, unable to help myself. It was super smooth with not a wrinkle in sight, just country miles of ass.

“You ever eat ass before?” she asked, rolling over to face me, tits out, nipples dark and stiff.

I stammered, “No, I mean, I’ve seen it, but—”

She cut me off with a grin. “There’s a first time for everything.” She sat up, pulled me by the front of my shirt, and kissed me, which caught me off guard, but I didn’t fight it. She sucked on my bottom lip, then whispered, “You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?”

I nodded, heart in my throat.

She stood, pulling me up with her. “Let’s go inside,” she said. “The neighbors are nosy.”

I followed her up the stairs, watching the muscles in her ass flex with every step.

“Your bedroom … or your mom’s?” she asked with a grin.

“I think mine works … I got a queen-sized bed.”

She giggled, and I opened and welcomed her inside, not sure what awaited me. In my room, she turned, shoved me onto the bed, and knelt between my legs. She peeled off my shorts, freeing my cock, which was rock hard and leaking.

She whistled, impressed. “Damn, your mom did not tell me about this part,” she said, wrapping her hand around the base. “You ever used it for real?”

I shook my head, too stunned to lie.

She grinned, then leaned in and took me in her mouth, slow and deep, her tongue working the underside while her hand stroked the shaft. She was relentless, and I had to clench my fists to keep from exploding right away. She pulled off, saliva trailing from her lips, trickling onto my shaft and pooling at the base, and smiled.

“Not bad,” she said, then straddled my chest, her ass inches from my face. “Your turn.”

She guided my hands to her cheeks, spread them, and bent forward. I paused, thinking I was dreaming, but she reached back and pulled my head in. I tongued her, shy at first, but she kept urging me deeper, talking dirty the whole time.

“That’s it. Right there, Kyle. God, you’re a natural. You like my ass?”

I couldn’t even talk, just moaned into her and licked her beautiful ass right on the rim. I couldn’t get enough of her rosebud and that wonderful crack. She squirmed, getting wetter by the second, and finally reached for the lube on my nightstand.

She slicked her fingers, worked them into herself, two, then three, then she looked over her shoulder and said, “You ready to try for real?”

I nodded. She rolled over onto all fours, waving her ass at me, and lined herself up. “Go slow,” she said. “Take your time.”

I positioned myself behind her, tip at her entrance, and pushed. She was so tight it almost hurt, but Carla just grunted, reached back and guided me in.

“More,” she said. “You’re not going to break me.”

I pushed, sinking all the way to the base, and she gasped, clutching the sheets.

“Fuck, that’s good. Now fuck me.”

I did, slow at first, then faster as she urged me on. The sounds were obscene, slapping flesh, breathy moans and her nails tearing at my bedsheets. She kept up a stream of encouragement, mixing dirty talk with praise.

“Good boy. You like that ass? You’ll never need porn again. No screen can beat this.”

“I’m in heaven.”

“Oh, yeah? Let me ride you,” she said.

I pulled out from her gaping ass, and she pushed me onto my bed. Before I could process what was happening, Carla straddled me backward, her incredible ass facing me as she reached between her legs to grip my slick cock. She positioned herself over me, and she lowered down. I watched, mesmerized, as my thickness disappeared inch by inch into her tight backdoor.

“Wow,” I said, gripping her hips.

Carla looked over her shoulder, her auburn hair cascading down her back. “You like this view better, don’t you?”

I couldn’t even form words. The sight of her ass bouncing on my cock was better than any porn I’d ever seen. She worked herself up and down, controlling the pace, taking me deeper with each drop. Her ass jiggled with every movement, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

“Touch me,” she said, guiding my hands to her ass cheeks.

I squeezed the flesh, spreading her wider, watching my cock disappear and reappear. The visual was overwhelming, her curves, the way she took all of me and how she twisted her hips in circles when I was deep inside.

“I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,” I told her, feeling the pressure building.

She lifted herself off my cock, and it landed with a smack onto my waist. She only gave me a couple of seconds to breathe.

She rolled onto her back, pulled her knees to her chest, and spread them wide. “Anal missionary,” she whispered. “I want to see your face when you fill my ass.”

I positioned myself between her legs, guided my cock back to her ass, and pushed forward. I could see every expression on her face as I penetrated her rosebud.

“That’s it,” she said, reaching up to grip my shoulders. “Fuck me deep.”

I thrust into her, watching her eyes roll back, her tits bouncing with each impact. The pressure was building again and this time I couldn’t hold back.

“I’m gonna come,” I panted.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said with a wink, squeezing her D cup tits together and forming them into a deep cleavage.

I fucked her ass ten more times, and then the friction became so intense I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

I buried myself to the hilt and came hard, pumping load after load deep into her ass. The orgasm was so intense I saw stars. I kept thrusting through it, riding out every pulse until I was completely drained and I’d soaked her ass.

When I finally pulled out, her rim gripping my cock, I stared in awe at what I’d done. My cum was leaking from her ass, a perfect creampie just like in the videos, except this was real, warm and wet and right in front of me.

“Fuck,” I whispered, unable to look away.

Carla propped herself up on her elbows, looking thoroughly satisfied. “So,” she said with a knowing smile, “better than porn?”

“God, yes,” I answered immediately. “Nothing even comes close.”

She reached out, stroked my cheek with her thumb. “You know, Kyle, my backdoor is always open to you.” Her eyes locked with mine, suddenly serious. “But only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” I said, still riding the high.

“No more porn. Not ever. Why watch when you can have the real thing?”

I nodded eagerly. “I promise. I don’t need it anymore.”

She smiled, pulled me down for a kiss. “Good boy.”

Thank you for reading! You can find many of my other stories on PornReads

I was nineteen and supposed to be enjoying summer break, but instead I was sweating through another Saturday doing yard work for the Perkins family. This was only my second time at their place.

That particular afternoon, the sun was extra-brutal. I had my shirt off, shorts clinging to my hips, and my skin was already tingling from the rays. It was dead quiet, but then I heard her. Lily Perkins, the twenty-one-year-old daughter of the house and the undisputed hottest girl in the neighborhood, was on her phone somewhere above me. She must have just gotten home.

I was halfway through yanking dandelions when I caught her. I looked up, and there she was, splayed out on a lounge chair, one arm thrown over her head like a supermodel. She wore a bikini the color of lemonade, and I mean wore, quote-unquote, in the way you wear body paint. I’d seen her a hundred times before, always in some kind of tight gym gear, but nothing like this. The little triangles barely contained her boobs or hid her areolas, and her stomach was toned, smooth as glass, except for the diamond of belly button. She had her hair up in a ponytail, making her cheekbones look even sharper. She was chewing gum, sunglasses perched on her nose, and had a thick, glossy paperback balanced on her thigh.

I yanked another weed, pretending not to stare. My cock did not get the memo about minding its own business.

Lily glanced up over her sunglasses and caught me looking. She didn’t even flinch, just gave a tiny smirk and went back to her phone. The move was so casual it almost hurt. I focused harder on the weeds, trying not to think about how red my face was getting … heatstroke, I told myself, definitely just heatstroke.

Then I heard her again, this time talking directly to me. “Ethan, right?”

“Uh, yeah?”

She lifted her glasses and peered at me, eyes blue and lined dark, like she’d been born knowing how to do makeup. “If you do the flower beds today, you can skip the mulch. My mom’s not home till Tuesday, so I don’t care what it looks like.”

I wiped sweat from my forehead and nodded. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

She watched me for another second, then went back to her call. I tried not to think about the way her bikini bottoms disappeared into the crease of her hips, or the way the sunlight made her skin glow. Every time I bent down, my shorts got tighter, and if I kept going at this rate, I’d need to douse myself with the hose just to cool off.

Half an hour later, I was at the far corner of the yard, trying to untangle a garden hose that had somehow grown into the hedge. Lily wasn’t talking any longer. I turned, and she was just lying there. I watched as she reached behind her back and, with one hand, unclipped her bikini top. She slid the straps down her arms and let the fabric flop to the side. No second thoughts, no looking around … just bare tits, tan-lined and perfect, nipples pink, pointing right at the clouds.

I froze. I was literally holding a clump of dirt, arm cocked in mid-air, like someone had hit pause. There were no fences between the houses, just a line of shrubs, and her mom could have come home at any second, but Lily looked like she was made of gold and didn’t care about anything except soaking up the sun.

I must have stared too long, because she cracked one eyelid and said, “You missed a spot.”

“Sorry. Uhm, derp, what?”

She didn’t cover up. She just stretched, arms over her head, arching her back so her boobs popped even more. “On the roses,” she said, nodding toward the flower bed. “There’s, like, a huge weed right in front of them. My mom’s going to freak out if she sees it.”

I stumbled over to the roses, trying to keep my eyes on the dirt. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry.”

She smiled, but it was more predatory than friendly. She shifted in the chair, like she wanted to make sure I got a good look.

My cock was officially in agony. I knelt in the dirt, not even pretending anymore, just hyperaware of every inch of her skin. She started scrolling on her phone, switching hands every so often, and each time she did, her tits jiggled just a little. At one point, she caught me looking again, and instead of calling me out, she licked her finger, reached down, and started tracing slow circles on her stomach, drawing invisible shapes from her belly button up to the swell of her chest.

The rest of the hour was torture. Every muscle in my body was on edge. I must have gone over the same two square feet of soil a dozen times, trying not to straight-up drool.

When I finished, I staggered over to the patio. Lily was waiting for me, topless, a towel loosely draped over one shoulder. Up close, she looked even older than twenty-one. Her hair was out of the ponytail now, slightly damp and hanging in waves around her face.

“Hey,” she said, rising to her feet. “You want some water? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” I tried not to look at her chest, which was impossible because she made zero effort to hide it.

She led me inside, straight to the kitchen. Lily opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and set it on the counter in front of me.

“You’re super thirsty, huh?” she said, twisting off the cap and handing it over.

“Yeah. It’s, uh, really hot out.” I drank half the bottle in one go.

She leaned forward, palms on the counter, giving me an up-close view of her tits. I tried to focus on her face, but her lips were so big and pink it was almost a full-time job not to stare at her mouth.

She caught me. “You can look, you know. I don’t care.”

I just stood there, paralyzed, a million apologies and denials jamming up my brain. She looked me over, eyes flicking from my face to my chest and then, oh god, down to my shorts.

“You ever, like, hooked up with a girl?” she asked, blunt as a hammer.

My face lit up again, this time a full-on sunburn. “Yeah, I mean, a couple times. You know. High school.”

She snorted. “You’re cute. And a terrible liar.”

I tried to laugh it off, but she wasn’t joking. She got even closer, her perfume spicy and sweet. “Here’s the deal,” she said. “My mom left you money for today. But I kind of need it for something. You want to work something out?”

I didn’t get it at first. “Like, do extra work next week or…”

She rolled her eyes, then did something insane: she reached down and tugged my shorts, just a little, just enough that the waistband pulled against my hard-on. “Or,” she whispered, “I could pay you another way.”

“Wait… seriously?”

She grinned, every tooth showing. “Unless you don’t want to.”

I shook my head way too fast. “No. I mean … I mean, what?”

She leaned in, breasts pressing against my arm, her hand resting on the counter next to mine. “You ever had a blowjob before, Ethan?”

The truth was, I hadn’t.

She saw right through me. “You look like you might explode just thinking about it.” Then, very gently, she brushed my wrist with her fingers. “You want me to show you?”

I nodded, absolutely helpless.

“So we have a deal?” she asked coquettishly.

“We do.”

She reached up to a cabinet, stood on her toes, pressed against me, and pulled down a tube of lip gloss. She twisted the bottom, painting her lips with a careful, slow motion, never taking her eyes off me. They went even shinier, if that was possible. She took my hand and led me to the couch. She pushed me down with a giggle and went down on her knees. She tugged my shorts down and then my underwear, freeing my achingly hard cock.

It sprang up, thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip. I felt completely exposed. My heart was hammering so loud I was sure she could hear it.

Lily’s eyes widened slightly. A satisfied smile curved her glossy lips. “Well hello there,” she murmured, sounding genuinely impressed. “You’ve been hiding this the whole time?”

I couldn’t speak. This was really happening. Lily Perkins, the hottest girl I had ever seen up close, was on her knees between my legs, staring at my cock like it was something she actually wanted.

She wrapped her soft hand around the base and gave me one slow stroke from root to tip. I hissed through my teeth. My hips twitched involuntarily. It already felt better than anything I had ever done to myself.

“First time, right?” she asked, looking up at me through her lashes.

I nodded.

“Good. I like being someone’s first.”

She leaned in. Her warm breath ghosted over the head. My cock jumped in her hand. Then she parted her shiny lips and took me into her mouth. The first sensation was heat … wet, silky, overwhelming heat. Her tongue swirled around the head, slow and soft, like she was enjoying me. I groaned loudly. My head fell back against the couch. It felt good. Way better than I had imagined. Her mouth was so warm, so soft, yet the suction was perfect, pulling me deeper with every gentle bob of her head.

Lily took her time. She sucked just the head at first. Her tongue flicked against the sensitive underside while her hand stroked the shaft in smooth, twisting motions. Every time she slid down a little further, I felt her lips stretch around me. Her saliva coated every inch.

“Wow Lily,” I gasped. My hands gripped the couch cushions hard. I had no idea what to do with my hands. I had no idea what to expect next. Every new movement sent sparks shooting up my spine.

She pulled off for a second. A thin string of saliva connected her bottom lip to my cock. “Relax,” she whispered, voice husky. “Just enjoy it. You’re doing great.”

Then she took me deeper.

I watched in stunned disbelief as more of my cock disappeared between her glossy lips. She did not gag. She did not hesitate. She sucked me like a pro, hollowing her cheeks and working her tongue along the underside. The wet, slurping sounds filled the room. They were obscene and perfect. Her head bobbed steadily, taking me further each time until I could feel the back of her throat.

It was too much. The visual alone, this beautiful older girl on her knees with her lips stretched around my cock, combined with the insane feeling of her mouth, was pushing me toward the edge way too fast.

Lily seemed to sense it. She hummed around me. The vibration traveled straight down my shaft. She started sucking harder and faster. One hand cupped my balls gently while the other pumped the part of my cock she could not fit in her mouth.

“I’m. I’m gonna,” I said, voice breaking. My hips bucked involuntarily.

She did not pull away. Instead she took me as deep as she could and sucked even harder.

The orgasm hit me hard. My whole body tensed. My thighs shook as I came hard in her mouth. Thick ropes of cum spurted across her tongue in powerful pulses. I groaned loudly. My eyes rolled back. I was completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure. It felt like she was milking every drop out of me.

Lily stayed right there. She swallowed greedily around my pulsing cock. She did not flinch. She did not pull back. She took every spurt as she swallowed again and again. When I finally started to soften, she kept sucking gently, licking and cleaning me with long, slow strokes of her tongue. She made sure she got every last drop.

Only when I was completely spent did she pull off with a soft, wet pop. A tiny bead of cum clung to the corner of her lip. She caught it with her tongue and swallowed that too. Then she looked up at me with a satisfied, slightly smug smile.

“Hmm,” she hummed, licking her lips. “Not bad for a gardener.”

I was panting. My legs were trembling. My brain was completely blank. I had never felt anything like that in my life. My first blowjob, and it was from my hotass neighbor. She had swallowed every drop like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She stood up and wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Lily laughed softly and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “You’re cute when you’re speechless. Now go home before my mom gets back … And don’t tell her about this.”

As I pulled my shorts up, I already knew one thing for sure.

Next Saturday, I was definitely coming back to do the yard work again.