Late Nights With Stepmom

I never meant for any of it to happen. I’m nineteen, a college freshman who should have been living in a dorm, but money was tight so I stayed home with my stepmom Vanessa, my stepdad Richard, and my stepsister Kayla. The house was big enough that we all kept to our own corners, but after Richard left for a two-week business trip to Singapore, the corners started shrinking.

Vanessa changed immediately.

The first morning he was gone she came down to breakfast in a short silk robe the color of champagne. It clung to every heavy curve like it had been painted on. Her breasts—full, round, impossibly firm for a thirty-eight-year-old woman—strained the thin fabric, nipples already peaked from the cool air. The robe ended high on her thighs, the kind of thighs that rubbed together when she walked and made a soft, whispering sound that short-circuited my brain. She caught me looking and smiled like she’d won something.

“Poor thing,” she said, pouring coffee. “All that young energy and nowhere to put it. Kayla’s out every night with her friends, your father’s gone… You must be so pent-up, baby.”

She said it casually, like she was commenting on the weather, but her eyes lingered on the front of my sweatpants long enough to make my cock twitch.

That set the tone for the next five days.

She wore the robe constantly. Sometimes it “accidentally” slipped open when she bent over to pick something up, giving me flashes of lace panties stretched across the wide, heart-shaped ass that had haunted my jerk-off sessions since I was sixteen. She started touching me more—innocent brushes at first. A hand on my shoulder. Fingers grazing my forearm. Then, during movie nights on the big sectional couch, she began crossing and uncrossing those legendary thighs right next to me.

The silk made them look like they were carved from warm velvet. I couldn’t stop staring.

One night she caught me. We were watching some forgettable thriller. Kayla was at a party and wouldn’t be home until after midnight. Vanessa had her legs crossed toward me, the robe riding so high I could see the soft inner flesh where her thighs met her ass. She slowly uncrossed them, then crossed them the other way, deliberately letting her knee brush the side of my thigh.