First Taste of Her Tightness

I still can't believe I'm writing this down, but after what happened last night I have to get it out somehow. My name's Connor, I'm twenty-two, home from college for the summer, and yesterday my stepmom Lena—forty-one, widowed, the most confident woman I've ever known—decided she was going to teach me how to fuck a woman in the ass. Properly. Patiently. Starting with her own.

Last night she bent over the living-room couch in nothing but that thin silk robe, reached back, spread her firm cheeks, and made me lube up her tight little asshole while she talked me through every circle of my fingers and every hesitant swipe of my tongue. We kissed the whole time, deep and wet, her praising me like I was the best student she'd ever had. By the time she demanded my cock next, I was shaking so hard I thought I'd come just from the sight of her. I didn't push inside. Not yet. She sent me to bed hard and aching, promising that tonight—lesson two—I'd finally feel what it was like to bury myself in that forbidden heat.

This morning I came downstairs around ten, still tasting her on my tongue from the night before. Lena was already in the living room, perched on the edge of the same couch, legs crossed, the silk robe loosely knotted so that one smooth thigh flashed every time she shifted. Her dark hair was piled up messily, a few strands sticking to the side of her neck. She looked up from her phone and gave me that slow, knowing smile that made my stomach drop and my cock twitch against my sweatpants.

“Morning, baby,” she said, voice still husky from sleep. “Sleep okay? Or did you keep thinking about how close you were to sliding into Mommy’s ass?”

I swallowed hard, cheeks burning. “I… yeah. I thought about it. A lot.”

She patted the cushion beside her. I sat, close enough that our thighs touched. The robe gaped a little more; I caught a glimpse of the soft underside of her breast and the dark shadow between her legs. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Of course she wasn't.

“Sophie texted,” Lena said, tilting the phone so I could see the thread. Her best friend Sophie—twenty-eight, open-minded as hell, the one who'd apparently encouraged this whole “Backdoor Lessons” idea—had sent a string of eggplant and peach emojis followed by: Tell that boy to stretch you good tonight. I want every filthy detail tomorrow. And then: Third lesson is mine if you two survive. Lena’s reply had been a simple devil-face and the words Lesson two starts the second he walks downstairs.

My cock was already half-hard just reading it. Lena set the phone aside, turned fully toward me, and cupped my jaw with one warm hand.

“Tonight is the real thing, Connor. You're going to put that thick college-boy cock in my ass. Slowly. Carefully. And you're going to learn exactly how a woman likes to be opened up and fucked there. No more teasing with fingers and tongue—though God, you were good at that last night. Tonight you graduate. You ready?”