The incessant doorbell brought Jaime out of his deep sleep and sent him treading grumpily to the front door, in only his Tommy John’s briefs. It was 7:30 on a Saturday morning—who could be so hateful as to bother him at this hour? He jerked open the door and groaned inwardly.

“Hi Baby!” It was his stepmother Rachel. She stood before him dressed in an expensive looking Oscar De La Renta, figure hugging dress with 4-inch Prada knock off heels, holding a large Gucci handbag. Her head was covered by a fashionable Kentucky derby hat and her face was partially concealed behind large, framed sunglasses. In her heels she stood 3 inches taller than his 5’ 10” and she flashed him a dazzling smile as she plucked off her shades and marched into his apartment.

“Rachel.” He greeted lacking much enthusiasm. “Hi—uh what are you doing here?” He closed the door and watched her pace around the living room eyeing things.

“I was in the area and wanted to see how my stepson was doing.” She replied happily. “You never call or text anymore.”

‘For good reason.’ He thought to himself. He wasn’t overly fond of the shallow woman his father fell for, shortly after his real mom lost her battle with ovarian cancer. Rachel was a trophy wife through and through. She was 39 years old (13 years younger than his dad) and always appeared as more of a runway fashion model than a stay-at-home mother. They had been married for 15 years, the first five of which included a younger Jaime who couldn’t wait for the opportunity to move out. At 14 he was a confused, emotional adolescent driven by spur of the moment ambitions, fueled by raging hormones. She was your textbook definition of a MILF, or step-MILF as it were and every time she pranced around their home in nothing but a thin robe or lacey underwear, he had to run and hide to prevent his mindless hard-on from embarrassing him.

She turned back and looked him up and down, pausing at the Tommy John’s. “You look good.” She stated. “Really good. Have you been working out?”

With a sigh he walked back into his bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweats. He then moved to his kitchen to override the timer on his coffee pot.

“So how have you been?” She persisted animatedly as she followed him into the kitchen, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. “How is the new job?”

The ‘new’ job was as a midlevel attorney at a corporate law firm. He had been working there ever since he graduated 3 years ago.

“Job is good.” He grunted back. “Pays the bills, adds to the retirement.” The coffee maker was slow as shit this morning. He took down two cups and produced sweet and low and creamer for his ‘mom’, knowing how she liked hers.

He turned to face her and paused. She had removed her hat and light over coat, placing them with her bag. His eyes were helplessly drawn to her chest where her gorgeous 34DD tit’s were half exposed, spilling over the front of her dress. Her light blonde hair was shorter now and curled making her look even younger than she deserved. Her crisp blue eyes glanced back at him guardedly before assuming a cheery façade. Her makeup was impeccable.

“Rachel,” he began, “why are you really here?”

She crumbled before his eyes, and he was taken aback as tears sprang forth. She sobbed pitifully and looked up at the ceiling. “Your father kicked me out! Can you believe that?” She wailed as she produced a tissue and tried to rescue her eye liner. “He says he’s divorcing me!”

That took him by surprise, and he fidgeted awkwardly as he poured two cups, leaving hers on the counter as he went over to sit on at the breakfast bar. He watched her back as she added her cream and sweetener to her cup. Her ass stood out like a beacon, and he felt his cock twitch as he imagined it’s perfect shape beneath the fabric. He sipped quietly and cleared his throat. “Well, I didn’t see that one coming.” He admitted. “Why?”

“I don’t know!” She cried with her back to him. “He just up and tossed me out in a fit, for no reason that I can think of.” She turned and came over to sit across from him. “I thought we were so happy.” Her eyes had stopped leaking tears but were now puffy and red.

“Did you cheat on him?” He asked regretting the words as soon as he said them.

“NO!” She shouted angrily. She smacked her cup down spilling some of it on the bar. “I’ve never strayed from his side! I’ve always been faithful!”

Jaime got up and grabbed several paper towels from a nearby roll to clean up the spill. “Well, he cheated on mom with you while she was dying of cancer.” He stated. He was still pissed about that and rarely had a civil word to say to his old man since. “Maybe he’s moved on again.”

“Maybe.” Rachel nodded dejectedly and sniffed. “Bastard!” Then she looked at him miserably. “What am I supposed to do now?” She whimpered. “I have nowhere to go and nothing to my name.”

“So, you came to me hoping for a handout or something?” He asked coldly. God why was he being such a dick to her, he wondered.

She began crying again. “Please Baby? I need somewhere to stay. And can you please talk to him for me?”

He cringed as he considered the fallout. His love life was dismal enough without having to still live with his parents. Was his mom living with him any different?

He sighed again and nodded. “Yeah you can stay until you get back on your feet again. I’ll show you the guest roo...” He was cut off as she smothered him in a hug and kissed his face repeatedly.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She squealed jumping up and down with her heels landing dangerously close to his bare toes. Her full breasts pressed and jiggled against his bare chest sending lustful urges into his crotch. “You won’t be sorry Baby. I’ll take such good care you.”

He sighed as he showed her to her room. Shortly thereafter she returned and asked if he could help her with the rest of her bags.

His jaw was agape as her definition of ‘nothing’ turned out to be three immense suitcases and two overstuffed garment bags. He had refilled his coffee and was lamenting life choices, when she came back out of her room, clad in a pair of skintight leggings and a knit crop halter top that strained at the seams to contain her large tits. Her belly button was decorated with a hanging pendant charm, and she displayed a not-so-subtle camel toe. He felt his loins stirring again and leaned over the breakfast bar uncomfortably.

“So, by ‘left you with nothing’, you meant a wardrobe fit for a Kardashian and your car...” He mused over his cup.

She stared back at him unapologetically and placed a bunch of papers on the counter before him. “Exactly.” She said smiling at him. “Can you look these over and tell me what it all means?”

He saw a petition of dissolution and a pile of other forms. He thumbed through them briefly. “He made you sign a pre-nup?” He laughed.

She made a face. “I don’t know. Did I? Does that mean he is going to take me to the cleaners?” She asked innocently. “Will I get anything from him? I’m mean we’ve been together for 15 years!”

Jaime set the papers down and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Do you have a lawyer yet?” He dreaded the answer and was not disappointed.

“Well ... no.” She stammered. “I was hoping you would ... you know.” She placed a soft hand on his arm which only inflamed his groin further. Why did she have to be so damn hot?

“Rachel—I am not a family attorney.” He groaned inwardly. “And I’m hardly in any position to stand up to my father in divorce court representing you. He would slaughter me.”

“Well why not?” She asked determinedly. “You have stood up to him before. And look how great you turned out!” She squeezed his bicep appreciatively. “It’s all just legal mumbo jumbo anyways isn’t it?”

Oh God could this day get any worse? He wondered.

It could.

Three hours later his girlfriend Becky showed up for the lunch date, that he had forgotten about in the chaos of his morning. She was a 23-year-old paralegal and 2^nd year law student interning at his firm. She was short and stocky with a flamboyant personality and when she entered his apartment unannounced, to find him pouring over legal forms while Rachel performed yoga on the floor nearby, her temperament chilled instantly.

Of course, Jaime hadn’t bothered to get dressed and remained shirtless and stammering as he realized what it all looked like, and how there was just no good way to spin it. So, he proceeded to swallow his pride and stood his shaky ground.

“Oh ... Becky hi!” He said as his ears began heating up. “Meet Rachel, my stepmother. ‘Mom’, meet Becky.”

The awkward silence was broken by Rachel’s chipper voice as she looked back at them from between her legs, a feat that only served to display an ass the likes of which Becky knew she would never achieve. “Hi there Becky! It’s good to meet you.” She greeted warmly. “I know it’s strange, but I promise you my staying here will have no effect on you two love birds. If you decide to get romantic I will just disappear into my room and not make a peep.”

Closing his eyes, he turned his back to the astonished gaze of his girlfriend as he walked into his room to change. He knew this would be their last lunch date and that he was going to become the laughingstock of the firm by Monday.

“Look Rachel,” he said as he placed all the papers back in front of her, “this is a very decent settlement for you and if you want my honest advice—I’d just sign it and move on.”

She came up behind him and looked over his shoulder, her breasts pressed into his back. He could smell her enticing perfume and feel her breath on the side of his face. God, this was torture.

“What am I getting out of it?” She asked point blank.

“The clothes that you left with, your Jaguar—which is two thirds paid for, plus $4,400 per month in spousal support.” He replied adjusting the crotch of his pants under the counter.

“But what about the lake house, or the main house for that matter? And the big damn boat of his.” She asked waving her hands wildly.

Jaime shook his head and pulled a form from the bottom of the stack. “You signed this prenuptial agreement that states you both get to keep what you brought into the marriage.” He looked back and found her face inches from his own. “Rachel, we’ve had the lake house and the boat since I was a little kid.” He showed her the clauses.

“So I get nothing.” She pouted.

“If by ‘nothing’ you mean a Jaguar and $4400 a month, then yeah, you are pretty much a bag lady now.” He scoffed. “Unless you can prove he was having an affair on you—and knowing how smart he is, you never will—you are better off taking this and signing.”

That evening, not even a day after moving into his apartment, she informed him that she was going out for a while to check out the clubs in the area and maybe do some dancing to unwind after her harrowing day. He watched her emerge from her room wearing a scandalously cut LBD with heels and a matching clutch. The material stretched so tightly over her body that he could easily tell she wore no bra or panties.

‘Oh hell no!’ He thought. “You aren’t gonna be bringing anyone back here I hope.” He stated emphatically.

“Of course not baby.” She chided him. “I’m not interested in hooking up with anyone ... yet.” She kissed his cheek as she headed out.

It was well past midnight when she returned and woke him up with her exaggerated efforts to quietly unlock the front door. He stumbled out of his room just as she closed it behind her. She was carrying her shoes in her hand with her clutch and stood swaying in the living room, watching him incoherently.

“God tell me you didn’t drive!” He stated anxiously as he walked up to her and took her bag and shoes from her grip. She reeked of alcohol.

She blinked back at him and giggled as if she just got the joke. “No!” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck as if she were trying to drag him to the floor with her. He instinctively put his arms around her waist and felt her press against his crotch. Oh God not again! He felt his penis begin responding as he hurriedly broke contact and supported her awkwardly to her bedroom door. He turned the handle and pushed it open with his foot as he continued to drag/carry her over to her bed. With a sigh she sat heavily and fell back with a laugh. He picked her feet up and pushed them onto the mattress. He left her shoes and purse on her nightstand and beat a hasty retreat.

The following morning she made no apologies for her late-night indiscretions; rather she bemoaned her sore head and how he had to help her retrieve her car.

Without a word he set a cup of coffee before her and sat across from her at the dining table. He studied her as he sipped his cup. She still wore the dress that she had slept in, and her hair was matted and snarled. Her makeup, half worn off, looked like a ghastly mask.

“And just how long do you expect this sort of thing to go on?” He asked her flatly as she held her blonde head moaning.

“Whatever do you mean dear?” She asked with a wounded tone at his lack of sympathy.

“I’m starting to understand where my father was coming from.” He grunted as he took a drink from his cup.

She jerked upright and then glared at him for the pain that lanced through her brain. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She snapped.

“How often do you make a point of going out partying all night?” He repeated. “The lavish lifestyle isn’t enough for you I take it,” He gave her a look of disgust, “Weekly visits to the nail salon, expensive stylists, spa treatments.”

“What’s wrong with that?” She replied haughtily. “He expects me to keep up an certain image.”

“When was the last time you two had sex?” He prompted. She rose to her feet, outraged at his insinuation.

“I beg your pardon? That is certainly none of your business!” She smacked down her half full cup and stormed back to her room.

He smirked into his cup as he began seeing just how their marriage had failed. His face gave away nothing of the deeper thoughts that were going through his mind.

Later, after dropping her off at her car, he returned home and relaxed in front of his computer, reading, and rereading several stories from the online literary club he followed. The Adult genre he most enjoyed were the BDSM, submission and obedient wives themes. They only served to fuel his resolve as he bided his time.

When Rachel returned several hours later she carried two large bags with handles and clattered noisily into the house. He stopped her as she began clicking towards her room.

“Shoes off in the house!” He barked.

She froze startled at his tone and immediately began juggling her bags as she struggled to remove her heels. He smiled inwardly at her prompt obedience and decided to test her boundaries gradually.

“Where have you been?” He demanded.

She stared back at him as disbelief, concern and arrogance washed over her expressions. “I—I went to Neiman Marcus to do some shopping.” She replied, suddenly offended by his tone. “Is that alright?”

He sat down on the couch and regarded her evenly. “I hope you have enough money left for your car payment.”

Her eye’s widened as she considered his words and then she sniffed disdainfully before treading into her room barefoot. He gazed longingly at her ripe ass as it swayed away from him.

That evening he rapped on her door loudly and grinned at her startled response.

He opened the door and found her laying across her bed in a terry robe with a facial mask stuck to her face. “I’m getting hungry and was wondering what you plan on making for dinner.” He said bluntly.

She stared back at him like a deer in the head lights. “Dinner?”

“Well you said you were gonna take care of me.” He pointed out. “I assumed that meant you were going to help with dinner once in a while.”

She appeared scandalized by the thought. “I’m getting ready to go out for the evening.”

“No you are not!” He replied. “That shit ends now!”

She started back at him open mouthed.

“I am an attorney and I work for a very prestigious law firm.” He explained. “I cannot have you running around like a whore, sullying my reputation.”

She rolled over and sat up so suddenly that her robe parted exposing her bald pussy. A sparkle caught his eye and drew his gaze down the piercing that adorned her clitoral hood before she recovered and closed her legs abruptly. “I AM NOT A...” She screeched before he cut her off with a raised hand.

“I will be in the kitchen, waiting.” He interrupted and left her, closing the door behind him.

He smirked as he heard her scream angrily behind him.

When she appeared later she was dressed in a conservative skirt and blouse that still hugged her gorgeous figure in distracting ways. She seemed to have calmed her emotions, but she acted cool towards him as he handed her a glass of wine.

“So what did you want for dinner?” She asked uncertainly as she took several gulps of the deep red Italian Ruscato to fortify herself.

“I have all the fixings for a nice chicken primavera and portobello risotto.” He said pleasantly and watched as her face fell.

“Baby.” She stammered. “I’ve never cooked anything like that before.”

He smiled brightly at her and placed his hands warmly on her shoulders. “That is no problem at all ‘mother’.” He assured her. “I will show you how it’s done.”

And so Jaime commenced showing his culinarily challenged mother-in-law how to prepare, cook and serve a simple delicious meal. She was actually enjoying herself as the meal came together, helped by several more glasses of wine. Occasionally she would find herself pressed against the counter as Jaime stood close behind her, assisting her as she diced mushrooms or measured ingredients. He boldly pressed his bulging hard on against the small of her back and occasionally rubbed his arm against one of her breasts, but she gave no indication that it bothered her.

After dinner he abruptly excused himself and wished her a pleasant evening—after she saw to the dishes. Without waiting for her response, he simply went into his room and closed the door. She stared at his back from her seat, wondering at his sudden aloofness. Then she turned and regarded the messy kitchen and sink full of used cookware.

Monday morning he awoke before her and headed off to work before she got out of bed. As expected, he found several coworkers glancing at him sideways as he made his way to his office. There were several whispered comments and giggles at his expense, but he simply ignored them. His workday proceeded with little fanfare, and he headed out of the office on time, stopping for several groceries and more wine on his way home.

It did not surprise him that Rachel was not there when he arrived. Nor had she left a note as to her whereabouts or intentions. So he set down his bags and sent her a text asking simply, ‘Where r u?’

It was nearly 30 minutes before she replied, ‘At the salon for a mani-pedi.’

He snorted and replied, ‘The Jaguar payment is $1700.’ Before setting his phone aside and putting away the groceries and wine. Afterwards he settled down to his leisure reading, biding his time until she returned.

It was late when she came through the front door carrying yet another large bag. She jumped when he ordered her to remove her shoes once more, and she hastily bent down to comply. Her face was flushed as she walked across the living room, and she became even more nervous when he stepped in front of her and sniffed deeply. The alcohol and bar smoke permeated her hair and cloths. He looked down at her toes to see the obvious neglect to her grown out cuticles. He looked straight into her eyes, and she glanced away nervously.

“If you decide not to be here when I get home, you will have the courtesy to leave me a note.” He stated quietly. She swallowed nervously and nodded. “That is strike one.” Her eyes widened at his tone as he pointed to her feet.

“You lied to me.” He added coldly and she felt a chill in her back as she followed his eyes to her toenails. “That is strike two.”

Then he calmly stepped away from her and went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine. “I hope you had dinner out because it’s too late to prepare anything tonight.”

She stood gaping at him as he walked past her and entered his room for the night, closing the door with a soft click. A pent-up breath escaped her lungs as she shuddered and went into her room.

He was surprised to find her awake and sitting quietly in the kitchen drinking coffee when he came out of his room. He was wearing one of his typical workday suits and carried his thin briefcase in the crook of his arm as he walked into the kitchen and filled his travel mug.

“Good morning ‘mother’.” He greeted her. Her silence prompted him to glance back at her to find her staring absently at her cup. “Sleep well?”

She glanced briefly at him before looking back at her cup before replying. “Baby can we talk?” She asked almost in a whisper.

He regarded her apologetically though his eyes did not reflect it. “Actually no.” He replied bluntly. Her expression reflected her chagrin as he moved past her and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I’m running late for a meeting. I expect I will be late this evening, so just leave me a plate in the microwave and I’ll warm up whatever you prepare.” His voice cut off as he closed the door, leaving her stewing in her own frustration.

He was grinning to himself as he returned to work and sat in his office contemplating his plans for his dad’s soon to be ex-wife. When he thought back he remembered how different their relationship was compared to his mother’s. His father was very controlling of his mother, and she always conducted herself in a quiet subservient manner. She was still loving and warm towards Jaime and kept a clean warm home, for her family. He missed her terribly when she passed and when he turned to his father for support, he found him to be distant and void of emotion.

Rachel proved to be the exact opposite of his mother when she entered his life as his new parent. She was loud, outspoken, and vibrant and his distant father made no attempt to reign her in or control her actions. She adored him as a handsome young man but lacked the emotional aptitude to bond with him in any meaningful way. So they simply co-existed in a large house, left to their own devices.

He got home at 10:30 that evening, after spending the afternoon enjoying several playoff games at his favorite sports bar. He spotted the note clearly placed where he could not miss it.

‘Jaime, I’m out with a few girlfriends. I may spend the night with them. Dinner in the fridge. Love Mom’

He smirked as he read it and then laughed when he found a wrapped Jimmy John’s sub sandwich in the fridge. Heading towards his room he paused and walked into the guest room out of curiosity. It looked as if a troupe of teenage girls had a rave party in it, fleeing when the sirens approached. There were clothes strewn everywhere, and he could barely make out the shape of the unmade bed under the piles of garments and bags. With a snort he shook his head and retired to his room for the evening.

He didn’t see her again until the following evening. The smell of burnt bread and cheese assaulted his nose as he entered the house, and he found her cursing to herself as she tried to scrape a blackened grilled cheese sandwich from the skillet on the stove. Just as he entered the kitchen the smoke alarm sounded, and she screamed at both the noise and his sudden appearance, dropping the spatula.

“Oh my God what is that!” She cried out as she covered her ears.

Jaime calmly reached above her and pulled the smoke alarm from the ceiling, silencing it, and then reached over the stove top to flick on the exhaust fan. He gently moved her to the side as he turned off the burner and then took the smoking skillet to the sink to douse it with water. He turned back to his distraught stepmother and regarded her evenly as tears sprang from her eyes and her lip began quivering. Sympathy warred with amusement as he bent over and retrieved the spatula, placing it in the sink as well.

She began sobbing as he reached for her and pulled her into a warm embrace.

“I’m sorry baby. I really tried.” Her muffled sobs were lost in his light dress coat.

“I know.” He replied softly, petting her hair. “It’s alright. We can order take out.”

She sniffed into his chest again. “I’m a horrible mother.”

He made no reply as he held her for another moment before pulling back and regarding her. “You are just used to having everything done for you, and you have never had to face the real world.” He said. “Now it’s time for you to wake up and see things for what they are.”

She reached out and grabbed his hands. “But I have you still, right baby?” She asked in a pleading voice. “You will take care of me right?”

“I am not your husband, nor am I your father.” He replied evenly, refusing to let her pull away. “You are a big girl, and you have to learn to take care of yourself.” He released her and turned her towards her room. “And you can start by going in there and cleaning up that pig sty.” He ordered as he swatted her on the ass gently. She jumped and looked back at him anxiously. “I expect you to at least have a little respect for my house if you wish to live under my roof.”

Her expression faltered as her face flushed under his admonishment. She was embarrassed and outraged at his invasion and briefly looked at him angrily. When she met his eyes however, her resolve fled, and she resignedly turned back and quietly entered her room.

“Good girl.” He added approvingly. “I will order us some Phό with spring rolls.”

When he called her out for their dinner she seemed quiet and reserved, as if she were battling with her emotions. Like a gentleman he held her chair for her and poured her a generous glass of wine. He served her before himself and they ate quietly. Afterwards he even cleaned up their dishes and disposed of the plastic containers. After cleaning up he returned to the table and bent over to kiss her cheek, wishing her a good night before heading off to his own room.

Thursday he paused at the door as he came in after work. Rachel was seated on the love seat wearing a baby blue silk kimono, embroidered with colorful great blue herons and bright floral patterns. She was bent over in concentration as she applied polish to her toenails. He quietly closed the door and regarded her intently. His neck felt warm and his throat suddenly dry as he drank in the image of her with her soft blonde curls spilling over the collar of her robe, the front falling open slightly to expose the gentle curve of her breast. Her golden tanned leg was bent erotically with her thigh peeking out from the glistening fabric.

She looked up and her eyes widened at his expression. She recognized the hunger in his eyes, and she blushed furiously as she rose awkwardly to her feet, covering herself insecurely. She looked away from him as she asked how his day was. He didn’t reply for a moment as he continued to gawk at her.

“I like that,” he stammered, “the silk kimono looks beautiful on you.” His voice was almost a harsh whisper as he set down his brief case and began loosening his tie. “It really highlights your hair and eyes.”

She blushed again, glowing at his praise. “Thank you.” Deep down she was oddly pleased by his glowing praise and her effect on him.

Shortly after, he emerged from his room dressed in his comfortable sweats and t shirt. He began rummaging in the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine while he gathered ingredients for their dinner. She joined him quietly, still wearing the kimono. He paused to stare at her again, noticing how short the robe was on second glance. When standing in her bare feet she was only an inch shorter than him, and her long lithe legs were bared to mid-thigh. He felt the stirring in his loins as he tried to push the images of his lust from his mind.

He held up the bottle in silent inquiry and she nodded. Her eyes fell to the bulge in his crotch, and she felt her face color. He turned to pour her a glass and set it onto the counter beside her. It was everything he could do just to keep his hand from shaking.

“I have dinner tonight sweetheart.” He said quietly as he faced the stove. He didn’t see her startled reaction. “Why don’t you go relax and I will call you when it’s ready.” He didn’t turn back to watch her quietly return to the love seat. Thus he was unaware of her stunned expression as she sat and nervously gulped her wine.

Jaime was completely distracted at work the following day. It was Friday and he really had nothing pressing to attend, so he absently pondered his situation and his irresistible longing for the woman living in his home. That he had to have her was without question. He reached down and adjusted his slacks around his chronic raging hard-on. He had to bend her to his will completely, but she was still too flighty to reel in. He couldn’t wait much longer. His burning desire was effecting his ability to think clearly.