Chapter 15

Something warm and wet pulls me out of the deepest sleep I’ve had in days.

My eyes crack open to dim morning light filtering through Mom’s thin curtains, and for a second I don’t know where I am. Then I feel it again—that slow, deliberate suction—and my whole body lights up like a circuit completing. I’m on my back now, and Mom’s light brown hair is fanned across my stomach, her head bobbing gently between my legs.

“Mmm,” I groan, my voice thick with sleep.

She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even look up. Just keeps that slow, languid rhythm, her lips sealed tight around my shaft, tongue doing something incredible along the underside. My fingers curl into the sheets and I let my head fall back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling while pleasure rolls through me in lazy waves.

I don’t want to go to school.

The thought hits me like a revelation. I want to stay right here, in this bed, with Mom’s mouth on me, all day. No hallways. No classes. No bullshit. Just this. Just her warm lips and soft hands and the quiet hum she makes in her throat when she takes me deeper. I could do this forever. I could—

Guber.

The name cuts through the haze like a blade, and suddenly I’m remembering everything. The plan. Regina making calls. Harper looking the other way. By the end of today, that smug piece of shit is done.

A grin spreads across my face. I’m fully awake now, every nerve firing, and it’s not just Mom’s mouth doing it. It’s the thought of watching Guber’s world crumble. The thought of walking past his empty office. The thought of Angela wearing whatever the hell she wants on Monday.

I actually want to go to school today.

But first—

Mom is going slow. Too slow. There’s this energy crackling through me now, electric and restless, and I need to move. I need to burn it off. I reach down and slide both hands into her hair, gathering fistfuls of it between my fingers. She makes a small sound—surprise, maybe—but doesn’t pull away.

I guide her head down. Then up. Setting the pace myself.

“That’s it,” I breathe.

I pull her lower, steady pressure until her nose presses into the trimmed hair at my base, the full length of my cock buried in her throat. She gags once, soft and muffled, but her hands grip my thighs and she holds. I hold her there for a beat, two beats, then let her come up for air.

Start slow. Let her get used to it.

I do. I’m patient for maybe ten strokes, guiding her head in long, measured pulls, feeling the tight squeeze of her throat every time I bottom out. Her eyes are watering, tears tracking down her cheeks, but she’s not fighting me. She’s bracing herself. Adjusting.

Then I pick up speed.

My hips start moving too, rising off the mattress to meet her mouth, and now we’ve got a real rhythm going. The wet, sloppy sounds fill the bedroom, obscene and perfect, and I tighten my grip in her hair and fuck upward harder. Faster.

“Fuck yeah,” I hiss through my teeth. “This is what I needed.”

And it is. God, it really is. All that restless aggression, all that pent-up energy from thinking about Guber and plans and everything I have to pull off today, it’s pouring out of me with every thrust. My hips snap up and Mom takes it, takes all of it, her throat a hot, slick channel that squeezes me perfectly.

Face-fucking my mom is the best way to start a new day. I don’t know what kind of person that makes me. I don’t care.

“Take it, Mom,” I growl, my voice coming out rougher than I expect. “Take my cock down your throat.”

She moans around me and the vibration shoots straight up my spine. I keep pounding, both hands locked in her hair, watching the back of her head rise and fall in my lap. She’s not letting up on the suction—if anything she’s pulling harder, hollowing her cheeks, her lips a tight seal that drags along every inch. She’s not just taking it. She’s craving it. She wants my cum and she’s working for it.

The pressure builds fast. Faster than I expected. It starts low in my gut, this heavy, coiling heat, and I can feel the load gathering, swelling, my balls tightening against my body. It’s going to be big. After sleeping through the night, after my body had hours to recover and replenish, Mom’s going to have a lot to drink down.

“Get ready, Mom,” I pant, my fingers twisting in her hair. “Hope you’re thirsty ‘cause I’ve got a big load for you.”

She whimpers. And her suction intensifies.

I fuck her face even faster now, my hips a blur, the headboard tapping the wall in rapid little knocks. Lightning speed. My abs are burning, my thighs are shaking, and Mom is just taking it, her hands gripping my legs like handles while I use her mouth.

The orgasm slams into me like a freight train.

I yank her head down and hold it there, buried to the root, and my cock pulses hard. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Thick ropes of cum shooting straight down her throat, and I can feel her swallowing around me, rapid, desperate gulps, her throat muscles working overtime to keep up. I keep cumming, hips locked upward, fingers trembling in her hair, and she takes everything. Every last drop.

When it finally stops, I release her hair and collapse back against the pillow, chest heaving. My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my temples.

“Mom,” I pant, staring at the ceiling. “That was ... that was amazing.”

She pulls off me slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to my hip. Her lips are swollen and wet, and she looks up at me with this soft, satisfied expression that does something complicated to my chest.

I came so hard it feels like I just finished a full workout. My muscles are tingling, my skin is flushed, and there’s a pleasant ache settling into my core. But I’m awake. Fully, completely awake, buzzing with energy instead of drained by it.

I swing my legs off the bed, standing on slightly unsteady legs. I lean down and kiss the top of Mom’s head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

Then I make my way to the hall.

The hallway carpet is thin under my bare feet as I cross to Jess’s door. I don’t bother knocking. The door swings open and there she is, sitting up in bed with her arms stretched high over her head, fingers laced together, spine arched in that full-body morning stretch. The sheets are bunched around her waist. Her tits are in full view, nipples tight from the morning air drifting through her cracked window.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

She drops her arms and yawns so wide I can see her molars. “Morning, stud.”

“If you don’t get a move on, I’m showering without you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” She rubs one eye with the heel of her palm. “What’s the rush all of a sudden?”

“I’m amped up thinking about how we’re going to get Guber.”

That gets a sleepy grin out of her. She throws the sheets off and swings her legs over the side of the bed, and the only thing she’s wearing is a pair of pale blue panties. Even in her groggy, half-awake state—hair a mess, pillow crease still denting her cheek—she looks so goddamn yummy. Something primal in me wants to pin her against the wall right now and fuck the absolute shit out of her.

But I can hold out for the five seconds it takes to get to the bathroom.

Jess pads past me into the hall, and I follow her into the tiny bathroom. She reaches into the shower-tub combo and twists the faucet, testing the water temperature with her fingers. Then she hooks her thumbs into her panties, slides them down her legs, and steps out of them. She climbs over the tub edge, pushes the mildew-stained curtain aside, and bends over, palms flat against the tile wall.

She looks back at me over her shoulder. “Pick a hole.”

I climb in behind her. Grab the bottle of conditioner from the little shelf and squeeze a generous amount onto her ass.

“Hey!” She giggles as the cold hits her skin. “You weren’t supposed to pick that hole.”

“Shouldn’t have offered it, then.”

“Just—go easy back there, okay?” Her voice drops, still playful but with a real thread of caution running through it. “I’m not ready for Beast Mode like you gave Regina last night.”

“Don’t worry, Jess. I know what a wimp you are.”

She shoots me an angry look over her shoulder, green eyes flashing. Her mouth opens, then closes. She doesn’t say anything. Because she knows, she knows, if she corrects me on that, if she tries to prove she’s tough, I’ll take that as an invitation to pound her ass into next week.

I smirk at her and she turns back to face the wall.

I start working the conditioner in with my fingers, slow and deliberate. It’s not the first time we’ve done this, but Jess doesn’t have a lot of experience back here, so it has to go slow. I press one finger in, feel her clench around me, then relax. I add a second. She hisses through her teeth but pushes back slightly.

With my other hand, I reach around and find her pussy. She’s already warm and slick, and when I drag two fingers across her clit she jerks forward and grabs the shower wall tighter. The hot water drums against my back, steam curling around us in the cramped space. I keep working both hands, fingers stretching her ass open while I rub steady circles on her clit, and pretty soon Jess’s breathing goes ragged, her thighs start trembling, and she drops her head between her arms.

“Oh fuck—” Her whole body tightens, and she comes on my fingers with a sharp little cry that echoes off the cracked tiles.

That’s my signal.

I pull my fingers out and line myself up. The conditioner makes everything slick, and I ease in, just the head at first, then slowly, steadily, halfway. Jess sucks in a breath through her teeth. I reach around and grab both her tits for leverage, palming them, feeling her nipples hard against my fingers.

Then I work the rest of my cock in, inch by inch, until I’m buried.

“Fuck,” Jess moans, her voice strained and breathy. “You have me so stuffed back there.”

I hold still, letting her adjust, feeling her pulse around me. The water’s running down my back, steam thick enough that the bathroom mirror is a white blank beyond the curtain. When I feel her muscles relax, when she shifts her weight and pushes back against me just a fraction, that’s when I know she’s ready.

I start moving. Slow, controlled strokes, pulling halfway out and pressing back in. Jess’s fingers scrape against the tile. I keep my grip on her tits, using them as handles while I find a rhythm.

“Mmm—yeah, just like that—” she breathes.

I take that as my cue and pick up the pace. Not Beast Mode, I keep that promise, but I’m not gentle about it either. My hips slap against her ass in a steady, building cadence, and the wet sound of it fills the tiny bathroom along with the hiss of the shower and Jess’s escalating moans.

“Don’t stop—fuck, don’t stop—”

I grab her tits harder, pull her back onto me with each thrust, and Jess arches her spine and starts coming with a sound that’s half scream, half sob. Her ass clenches around me so tight it’s almost painful, and that’s all it takes, my own orgasm rips through me and I bury myself to the hilt, pumping load after load into her ass while my vision whites out and my legs nearly give.

We stay like that for a few seconds, both of us panting, steam swirling. Then I notice the water hitting my back isn’t hot anymore. It’s lukewarm and dropping fast.

“Shit—water’s going.”

We separate and scramble. I grab the soap, she grabs the shampoo, and we scrub ourselves down in what has to be the least sexy sixty seconds of the morning. By the time we’re rinsing off, the water is borderline cold and Jess is shivering, hugging herself while suds stream off her shoulders.

She shuts off the faucet and wrings out her hair, then fixes me with a look. “So when are you going to do your manly duties and install a multi-head shower with never-ending hot water like Regina has?”

I chuckle, stepping out of the tub and grabbing the nearest towel. “I’ll get right on it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“You better.”

We dry off and head to our respective rooms to get dressed.

My phone buzzes on the bathroom counter while I’m running product through my hair. I snatch it up with one hand. Its from Regina.

5 min out. Be ready.

I check myself in the mirror one last time—fitted dark jeans, a slim navy button-down Regina picked out for me, sleeves rolled to the forearms. Clean. Presentable.

I head downstairs, taking the creaky steps two at a time, and park myself by the front door. The house is quiet except for the fridge humming its usual death rattle from the kitchen and the muffled sounds of Jess still moving around upstairs. I glance at the time on my phone. How is she not ready yet?

Through the front window I spot the white Mercedes rounding the corner at the end of our street, gleaming like it belongs in a different zip code entirely. Which it does. Regina pulls up to the curb, and I push through the front door into the morning sun.

“Jess! Let’s go!” I shout back through the doorway, then jog down the crumbling porch steps and across the patchy yard toward the car.

Regina’s window is already down, one arm resting on the door. Her hair catches the light in those auburn waves that probably took her forty-five minutes to make look effortless. She’s dressed down by her standards, a tailored cream blazer over a simple top, but still looks like she wandered off a magazine shoot.

“Good morning,” she says, pulling her sunglasses down just enough to look me over. “Everything is set. Operation PURGER is a go.”

I lean against the car door. “Purger?”

“Yes.” She pushes the sunglasses back up. “P-U-R-G-E-R. Plan to Unseat and Replace Guber’s Evil Regime.”

The way she says it, chin lifted, zero irony, genuinely proud, almost makes me lose it. I do lose it. A real laugh breaks out of me, not the polite kind. “Okay, that’s actually pretty good. How did you come up with that?”

“I cannot take credit. Karen actually devised it last night.”

I blink. “Really? Karen came up with that?”

“Yes, actually. She is quite adept at coming up with acronyms.” Regina pauses, tilting her head like she’s considering the mystery of it herself. “Not much else. But for some strange reason, acronyms are her jam.”

I shake my head, still grinning. “Well, we all gotta be good at something, I suppose.”

I turn back toward the house. The front door is still hanging open and there’s no sign of my sister. The grin fades.

“God damn it, what is taking her so long?” I mutter, then raise my voice toward the doorway. “Jess! Get your ass down here!”