Steamy Shower With Stepmom

Jake pushed open the front door and was hit by a wall of humid air that smelled like coconut body wash and warm skin. The house was quiet except for the steady hiss of the shower running upstairs. His stepsister Mia was supposed to be pulling a double shift at the coffee shop, and his stepdad had flown out yesterday for a week-long conference in Atlanta. Only Vanessa should be home.

He dropped his duffel bag in the hallway and wiped sweat from his brow. The late-August heat had turned the whole house into a sauna. His t-shirt clung to his back as he climbed the stairs, drawn toward the sound of water like a moth to flame. The bathroom door was ajar, steam rolling out in thick, lazy curls.

He should have knocked. Instead he pushed the door wider.

Vanessa stood in the middle of the bathroom with a white towel clutched loosely in one hand. Water still beaded on her sun-kissed skin. At thirty-eight she looked like every filthy fantasy Jake had tried to bury for the last four years. Her heavy breasts hung full and round, nipples tight from the cooler air meeting wet flesh. The smooth, shaved lips of her pussy glistened between toned thighs still shiny from the shower. Steam curled around her like it was trying to hide what he was seeing, but it only made everything look softer, slicker, more obscene.

She froze mid-motion, towel hovering just above the swell of one breast. Her hazel eyes locked on his.

Jake’s mouth went dry. His cock surged so fast it hurt against the front of his jeans.

“Jake,” she said, voice low and rough. Not shocked. Not angry. Something else.

He couldn’t stop staring. The way her tits rose and fell with each breath. The faint tan lines that framed her shaved mound. The water still sliding down the inside of her thigh like it was reluctant to leave her body.