Chapter 2: Morning After

I found Mom in the kitchen, humming like a fucking nun while making breakfast, looking like a wet dream. The kitchen was all high-end bullshit, with marble counters and stainless steel appliances shining under the sun, and a large island where she worked, her movements smooth as a porn star’s. The sunlight caught on her necklace, making the cross and Jesus glow like they were judging us, along with her sparkling diamond necklace. Her wedding ring sparkled as she stirred, each movement a fucking betrayal.

“Morning,” I said, my voice rough from sleep and satisfaction. The kitchen smelled like pancakes and coffee, a stark contrast to the sinful night before, like incense after a dark ritual.

She turned and smiled, looking radiant in a bright yellow dress that hugged her curves like a second skin, the color bright as her sinful spirit. The dress barely covered her ass, flashing skin when she reached up, teasing like a pro.

“Morning. How you feeling?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief, her fingers still on the cross, seeking forgiveness or just playing the game.

“I’m fine, a bit sore but good,” I replied, not hiding my grin as I eyed her like a piece of meat.

I walked over and dropped to my knees, pushing her dress up, exposing her to the light like revealing a secret. “Tom, what the fuck?” she gasped, surprised, but her grip on the cross was tight, a mix of guilt and excitement.

I grinned before planting a sucking kiss on her ass, earning a whimper. “Don’t! Stop it, Tom,” she protested weakly. “Erik will be home soon...” she warned, her voice a mix of fear and thrill.

But I wasn’t stopping. I held her hips, spread her cheeks, and buried my face in her pussy, the cool marble under my hands adding to the thrill. Her cunt was still wet from last night, the lips slightly swollen from our rough play, her trimmed pubes glistening with morning dew. The texture was slick, her inner folds swollen and sensitive, the taste of her cum mixed with the sweet scent of her arousal.

“Oh god, Tom, what are you doing?!” she squeaked, trying to sound upset but just sounding turned on. I looked up, grinning like a devil. “I’m going to fuck your ass, Mom,” I said, the words heavy with promise, hanging in the air like smoke.

“I’m not going to let you,” she said, but there was no heat, just a game. I spun her around, bending her over the table set for breakfast, the scene surreal. “What are you- Tom...” she trailed off into a moan as I rubbed my cock against her wet folds, gathering lube before circling her tight asshole, her body tensing in anticipation. Her hand moved to clutch the cross, white-knuckled.

“Please don’t, Tom, please...” she whimpered, her hole clenching, her body betraying her words. As I teased her ass, she reached back with one hand, her fingers trembling as they found her puckered hole. She bit her lip, pushing a finger inside, the sight erotic as fuck, her ass sucking on her finger like it wanted more. “Please what?” I teased, pressing harder, enjoying her struggle.

“Please don’t fuck me in the ass, Tom,” she begged, needy, her necklace sparkling like a disco ball. I pushed in, her body flowering open, the act a desecration. “Oh god, Tom, oh fuck,” she moaned, voice rising as I sank into her tight bum, her grip on the cross unyielding. Her ass was tight, gripping my cock like a vise, the heat inside like a furnace.

Her scream was strangled as I fucked her, the table shaking under us, the room echoing with our sin. “Please, Tom, please,” she begged, tears streaming down her face, mixing pleasure and pain. “Is it alright to cum in your tight little bum, or would you prefer it in your hot mouth?” I whispered, the choice a dark promise.

Mom choked out a sob, looking back with wide eyes. “Oh god, Tom, cum in my mouth,” she breathed, surrendering. I pulled out and she dropped to her knees, taking me deep with a moan, her hand still on the cross, this act now part of our twisted ritual.

I gripped her head, fucking her face until I came, shooting cum down her throat like a gun unloading. She swallowed eagerly, eyes watering, the cross and necklace shining with every breath, the light a divine mockery.

As I steadied myself, I caught a glimpse of the family photo on the wall, me, Lucy, and Chloe in our school uniforms, their innocence a stark contrast to this moment. Lucy was older, Chloe younger, both hot as fuck like Mom.

Mom licked me clean, her tongue batting at my sensitive head until I pushed her away, the sensation too much. “Again, happy fucking birthday, Tom,” she giggled, the cross finally released, our ritual complete.