Cabin Weekend With The Milf Author

The fire crackled in the stone hearth, casting flickering orange light across the pine-paneled walls of the isolated mountain cabin. Vanessa Kane stood at the kitchen island in a thin white tank top that did nothing to hide the heavy sway of her full, braless breasts and a pair of black yoga leggings stretched tight over her wide hips and thick ass. At forty-two, the bestselling erotica author knew exactly what she looked like: every inch the filthy-minded MILF her readers fantasized about.

Liam sat on the oversized couch, manuscript pages scattered across the coffee table, cheeks flushed. The twenty-two-year-old beta reader was tall but slender, with messy dark hair and the kind of shy intensity that made Vanessa’s cunt throb every time she caught him staring at her body.

“Read the next scene aloud,” she said, voice low and smoky as she poured two generous glasses of red wine. “I want to hear how it lands when it’s spoken out loud.”

Liam cleared his throat and began.

“‘She pushed him back onto the bed, straddled his face, and ground her dripping pussy against his mouth while she sucked his cock deep into her throat…’”

His voice cracked on the last word. Vanessa watched with predatory amusement as the front of his gray sweatpants tented obscenely. The poor boy was rock-hard after only two pages of her raunchiest chapter yet.

“Keep going,” she purred, stepping closer. The leggings hugged every curve of her thick thighs. When she leaned over to hand him his wine, her heavy tits nearly spilled out of the loose tank top. Liam’s eyes flicked helplessly to her stiff nipples poking against the thin fabric.

He tried to continue reading but stumbled again when the scene turned even filthier. Vanessa smiled, slow and wicked. She could already feel her own slick heat soaking through her panties.

By the time they finished the second glass of wine, the tension in the cabin was thick enough to choke on.