That morning, Susan woke up with a killer headache. She’d had a blazing row with her husband the night before, and up until now, she’d always managed to twist Paul around her little finger—getting him not just to stop sulking but to apologise, usually by the next day. So why was this time different? Was she losing her touch? Or worse… getting old?
She shuffled downstairs, heading straight for the kitchen, squinting against the obnoxiously cheerful morning sunlight streaming through the windows. She flipped on the coffee machine, savouring the promise of caffeine, when a soft cough made her whirl around.
There he was—Paul’s son, Rob—perched on a barstool with a glass of juice in one hand and a newspaper in the other, looking as smug as a cat in a cream factory. Susan instinctively tightened her robe around her. She didn’t like the way he was eyeing her, his gaze lingering a fraction too long for comfort.
“I wasn’t expecting you here,” she said, trying to sound casual. Rob smirked, that infuriating lopsided grin playing on his lips.
“Well, I do hope you’re not parading around naked on my account.”
“I’m not naked,” she shot back, her cheeks burning.
“If you say so,” he replied with a sly wink.
Susan checked her clothes and had to admit that her robe was very short and barely reached below her arse and it was possible that she was showing more than just her perfect round bottom to her stepson when she reached up for a cup. The robe was also a bit sheer, especially against the sun, so her bottom probably wasn’t the only thing he could see of her. The fact that underneath she was wearing a very light chemise that made her look more naked than clothed, and which practically exposed her large breasts, needed no convincing.
She would have preferred to leave to get more dressed, only that wasn’t possible right now. Doing so would have afforded Rob a completely inappropriate view from below as she walked up the stairs. And if she pathetically tried to pull her robes as low as possible as she walked up the stairs, she would actually be admitting that she wore very little.
Susan had never admitted she was wrong in front of a man, and she certainly wasn’t about to start that morning. That’s when the idea struck her.
“Your father’s angry with me,” she purred, her voice dripping with suggestion.
“My father’s got every bloody reason to be pissed off,” Rob shot back, flashing her a grin so charming it could only be laced with sarcasm.
“Maxing out a few credit cards isn’t exactly a crime,” she countered, batting her lashes. “You should put in a good word for me.”
“And why the hell would I do that?”
Susan had to bite back her rage, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.
“Because we’re family, darling.”
“Oh, are we now? Family, you say? Funny how last week, when I had company over and Dad blew his lid, I don’t remember you rushing to defend me.”
With a furious clatter, Susan slammed her dainty little teacup onto its saucer, sending a splash of coffee flying.
“That was completely different!” she snapped. “At your age, you shouldn’t be inviting women into your room, and it was perfectly reasonable to insist you leave the door open!”
“Oh, and the fact that you showed me your shaved, perfumed cunt a second ago, is that appropriate at my age?”
Susan gasped, utterly scandalised.
“I beg your pardon…”
“Yeah,” Rob cut her off, “and Dad’s properly fuming. I heard him on the phone to the bank, so don’t hold your breath waiting for more credit cards—they’re not coming.”
She bit her tongue, her mind racing. Sure, she hadn’t been the picture of a dutiful wife lately, but cutting her off financially? That was crossing the line. She needed to get Junior on side, no matter what it took—even if it meant grovelling on her knees.
“What would it take for you to stick up for me?” she asked, her voice dripping with charm as she flashed him her most dazzling smile. They could be allies, couldn’t they? Two against the stubborn old git she’d married.
“Hmm,” he said, expression unreadable, “how about you grab that mug from the top shelf for me?”
She perked up, pleased at the simplicity of the request. “Of course,” she cooed, slipping off the barstool. But as she reached up, she froze, abruptly dropping her arms and tugging her robe down as far as it would go.
“Ha bloody ha,” she said, glaring at him.
He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance, as if to say, your loss.
“I’m hardly going to flash my…” She trailed off, heat flooding her cheeks. “That would be wildly inappropriate. I’m your father’s wife, for heaven’s sake.”
“Well,” Rob said, sneaking a sidelong glance at her, “I’ve still got my credit cards. More than I need, actually.”
She licked her lips, torn. Surely showing a little skin wouldn’t kill her, if it meant appeasing this horny little bugger.
Susan lowered her eyes to get it all over with, untied the robe and let it open. But only enough to reveal her big firm breasts, but her nipples hidden. She knew her lap was translucent, but as she was sitting behind the bar, Rob couldn’t see her pussy from his position.
“Guess there’s nothing wrong with letting loose a bit,” she said hesitantly.
Rob gave her a cheeky once-over, blatantly checking her out, not even trying to hide the way his eyes devoured her curves. She could practically picture him sneaking off to his room with that thought in mind—especially if it meant she’d have her credit cards at the ready.
“Isn’t it a bit hot in here?” Rob asked, setting his paper down and watching her with a daring look.
“No,” she replied, puzzled. “But I can turn the air conditioning up, if you want…”
“Take off the robe,” he said, that bratty little tone making her blood run cold.
She gasped, frozen to the spot. She stared straight into Rob’s eyes, and he smirked back at her, before pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his trousers. One by one, he took out three credit cards and laid them out beside him.
“Pick one,” he said smoothly. “Each untouched—no debt, no interest, just pure credit waiting to be used.”
Susan hesitated, but the temptation was too much. She reached for one of the cards, only for Rob to jerk it back, just enough so she couldn’t grab it.
“Forgot something, did you?” he shot back with a sly grin.
She didn’t look the little bastard in the eye, she let the robe fall first off one shoulder, then the other, and the translucent red fabric fell to the floor. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her chest, but he grunted in displeasure.
She looked at the credit cards. She knew each one was worth it.
Slowly she put her hands aside, she had no idea what to do with them, she was nervous. So she simply ran them along her body. She looked at her stepson who was staring at her nipples.
“Great,” he told her. “I really liked your jugs, but I’ve never seen them naked this close before.”
That practically admitted the snoop was spying on her, she thought angrily. She didn’t say anything. She let him drool over her gorgeous breasts.
“Well, now hand me that cup. That green one right at the top, would you be so obliging?”
Susan stood up too angrily, giving the bastard a wonderful view of her big round breasts swinging. He smiled in delight. She turned and walked to the kitchen counter. She was all too aware that he was staring at her naked arse. To stretch, she would have to put her legs a little apart, stand on tiptoe and bend over, exposing herself perfectly to him. She was strangely aroused by the idea. Very aroused.
It surprised her.
She reached out, bent over, stood on tiptoe, and reached for the cup, but didn’t take it. She stayed in that position, completely wet and aroused. A moan escaped her throat.
Rob heard the moan.
She didn’t turn around, but she heard the stool creak. She heard quiet footsteps coming towards her. She still didn’t turn around. She felt his hands on her. He stroked gently down her back to her buttocks, gently spreading her cheeks and his fingers deftly threaded into her vagina.
She moaned.
“Do you want it?” he asked simply.
She nodded.
She could feel him thrusting into her. He was totally hard and he was really big. Then he grabbed her breasts and slammed in. While doing so, he kissed her gently on the back of her neck. She let herself go. Her hips undulated gently to the rhythm of him fucking her from behind. Her pleasure was rising, she had no idea if it was the way he was deftly playing with her hard nipples or the way he was fucking her, his hard big cock up to his balls in her cunt.
“You’re beautiful,” her stepson whispered to her. “You have an amazing cunt. Better than I ever imagined.”
Her moans were louder, she had never approached climax this fast.
“Tell me,” Rob said as he fucked her cunt roughly, “can I do it better than Daddy?”
She was silent, unable to speak, just enjoying the unusual pleasure.
“If you don’t like it, Mom, I can always stop,” he said teasingly.
She grabbed the back of his head.
“No, please,” she moaned, “fuck me. You’re so much better at it than your dad.”
Rob grunted.
“I can’t take it much longer.”
“Cum in me,” she shot back.
“Are you sure?”
By this time he was on the verge of cumming.
“Yes,” she said. “Wouldn’t you like a little brother of your own?”
With that, he made a few last thrusts, his cum spurting out of him and into her in several massive doses. White mucus dripped from his stepmother’s wet vagina.
He gently turned her around so he could see her eyes. She did not resist. She smiled at him.
“Shall we have coffee together again tomorrow morning?” Rob said, winking.
She smiled sweetly.
“I’d love to,” she said. “I like it white.”
Need a Little ‘Coffee’ to Fuel My Mischief—Care to Chip In?
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