I roll to the side, completely spent, and smile as I feel thick strands of cum dripping out of my pussy and down my legs. Looking at him, I realize he’s still cumming, thick strands of his white juices shooting up in the air.
He’s literally cumming in quarts.
“Come for me, baby,” I whisper, and then I correct myself. “Come over me.” Gritting his teeth, he goes up to his feet, his cock spasming out of control. I kneel under him, opening my mouth and allowing his semen to coat my tongue. Filling my mouth to the brim, his cum starts dripping down my chin and onto my breasts. I grab his cock then, and I point it at my tits; his warm juices hit my skin in a heartbeat, completely covering both of my breasts.
Using both of my hands, I smear his fluids all over my chest, my fingers sliding easily over my skin. And still he keeps cumming, almost as if to confirm that this is, in fact, reality and not just a wild dream. Yes, this is very real. I’m fucking my stepson, someone deliciously younger than me. Don’t judge; being married to a man like Michael makes someone like Lance completely irresistible.
When his cock finally stops, I lock eyes with him, my lips curling into a devilish grin.
“I can’t leave here like this…” I tell him, still rubbing my own breasts with his cum. “You’ll have to take care of it now, Lance.” As if my words were a whip, he goes down to his knees in front of me.
“Did you think I wouldn’t take care of it…?” He presses his mouth against mine, and we kiss as if tomorrow would never come, swapping all of the cum in my mouth and letting it drip down both of our bodies. He sucks on my tongue, taking all the cum into his mouth, and then licks all the drops hanging on my lips. “I wouldn’t let you leave without tasting every single inch of your skin…”
He keeps going further down, his tongue following along the lines left by his semen. When he gets to my breasts, he takes his time, licking them eagerly, his tongue lapping at my cum-coated lips frenetically. I throw my head back as he runs both his lips and tongue all over my chest, scooping every last drop of cum into his mouth and licking me dry.
When he’s done with it, he reaches for my pussy, brushing two fingers against my folds and taking into his hand the cum I still have there; then, he takes his fingers to my mouth and presses them over my lips, thick drops of cum going down from his fingertips into my lips. I open my mouth and let him slide his long fingers in, sucking them dry. Slowly, he takes them out of my mouth, a delighted smile on his lips.
“You’re not done yet…”
“Who said I was?” Almost growling, he places his hands on my shoulders and pushes me down onto the floor; he’s on me before I even know what he’s doing, his mouth hungrily pressed against my pussy. He devours me again, making sure that every single drop of cum in my body goes into his mouth.
When he takes his mouth off of my pussy, I’m grinning as if I were a young girl again. I sit up on the floor, my heart still racing, and look up at Lance..
“This was just...” he starts, the expression of ecstasy on his face somehow making him look even more handsome… and younger. I know exactly what he means, so I just nod, still breathing hard. His lips are still glistening from all of the cum he took in, a perfect memento of what we’ve just done. This was perfect, and wrong. Very, very wrong.
Oh, crap, what am I doing with someone so young? Someone who’s my stepson?
Well, I’ll tell you what I’m doing, hun. I’m living. The way I want to.
For the first time since I’ve been married, I’m doing something that makes me happy.
Lance
“Let me get another one, Mike,” I say to the bartender, holding out my pint glass and taking the final sip of the beer.
Fuck, I don't even know if the guy’s name is Mike still. I mean, the bartender behind the counter when I came in this afternoon was called Mike, but I can’t remember what he looks like now. I’ve been drinking pretty heavily, if you can’t fucking tell.
It’s now night, around 8 pm, and I’ve been here a few hours at the Village Pourhouse—a giant sports bar off Union Square. It gets a good NYU crowd, but more than that, the drinks are reasonably priced and people leave you alone if you just want to get blasted, watch television, and be by yourself.
And right now, the only two things I want in this fucking world are to drink to forget and be by myself.
Yeah, okay, I know this isn’t the best thing to be doing in the world. The media catches me getting wasted in a bar, they’re going to have a fucking field day.
But I fucking need this. I don’t care what the fuck is going on.
I mean, you would be doing a lot worse if you were in my shoes, okay. Don’t even try to fucking tell me that you would be all calm and collected after you ended up fucking the hottest girl you’d ever fucking met in the fitting room of a fucking Saks Fifth Avenue.
And not just any woman off the street.
No, that would make things too easy. Then it would just be sex—and hey, you know me, I’m cool with having just sex, remember
?
No, this is going too fucking far.
This time I’ve crossed a line that I don’t think I can come back from.
This is my fucking stepmom we’re talking about here. Just recently married to my stepdad—the Mayor of New York City.