Fridge Bent Over By Stepmom

I’m Jake, nineteen, freshly home from my first year of college, and the second I walked into the kitchen that humid June afternoon I knew the entire summer was going to be one long, filthy secret.

Vanessa was bent over at the waist, head and shoulders buried deep inside our oversized refrigerator. Her tiny grey cotton shorts had ridden up so high the bottom curves of her plump, sun-kissed ass cheeks spilled out completely. The fabric between her thighs had wedged itself into a perfect, obscene camel-toe that outlined every swollen fold of her pussy. A thin sheen of sweat made the material cling to her like a second skin. I could see the faint damp spot right at the center. My cock surged so fast it actually hurt.

I froze in the doorway, duffel bag still slung over my shoulder, staring at my stepmom’s ass like a man who’d never seen one before. She was thirty-eight, all soft golden-blonde hair, heavy tits, and the kind of hourglass body that made other moms look like they’d given up. She’d married my dad when I was fourteen, and I’d spent four years trying not to notice how fucking hot she was. Now the fantasy was two feet away, wiggling.

Vanessa grunted, reaching farther for whatever was jammed behind the crisper drawer. The motion made her ass roll and push back toward me. My dick throbbed visibly against the front of my basketball shorts, the fat head already leaking and creating a dark wet spot of its own.

She must have sensed me standing there. Her body stilled. Then, slowly, she glanced back between her own spread legs. Her blue eyes locked on the massive tent I couldn’t hide. For one terrifying second I thought she’d scream.

Instead her full lips curved into a slow, wicked smile.

“Jesus, Jake,” she breathed, voice husky from being upside-down in the cold air. “Is that really all for me?”

I couldn’t speak. My throat had gone dry.