Chapter 1

The suburban house was hushed, bathed in the golden glow of morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows, the July air warm and heavy at 8:15 a.m. on Wednesday. A soft breeze slipped through an open window, rustling the sheer curtains, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the backyard. Ethan, a 19-year-old college freshman, slouched at the breakfast nook, his lean frame clad in a faded black t-shirt and loose basketball shorts, his dark hair tousled from a restless night. His hazel eyes, usually scrolling through his phone, were locked on his mother, Sophia, working at the kitchen counter, her slim, curvaceous figure a vision that set his pulse hammering. At thirty-eight, her olive skin shimmered in the morning light, her 26-inch waist flaring into rounded hips and a thick, firm butt that strained her tight black yoga pants, the fabric clinging to every curve like a second skin. Her dark hair was tied in a loose, messy bun, strands escaping to frame her face, her full breasts swaying under a snug white tank top, nipples faintly outlined as she moved. Her bare feet padded softly on the tiled floor, toes curling as she sliced strawberries, completely unaware of Ethan’s gaze fixed on her thick butt and delicate feet.

Ethan’s heart pounded, a forbidden heat surging through him, his dick twitching in his shorts. Sophia had always been Mom strict, loving, the one who checked his homework and cheered at his soccer games. But this summer, something had broken open inside him. Maybe it was the stifling heat, or his return from college, or the way her thick butt swayed in those yoga pants, but his body betrayed him, his cock hardening with a relentless pulse. He shifted in his seat, trying to focus on his coffee, but his eyes traced her ass, round and perfect, moving rhythmically as she chopped fruit, her hips shifting, her hair shaking loose, a single strand clinging to her neck. Guilt clawed at his chest this was his mom but the desire was a fire he couldn’t douse, his dick straining, his breath shallow as he watched her toes curl against the tiles, her feet arching slightly.

His father, David, was upstairs, still asleep, his slim frame tangled in sheets, snoring softly. At forty, David was a steady accountant, his love for Sophia unwavering, but their marriage was routine, leaving Sophia oblivious to the storm she sparked in her son. Ethan’s older sister, Mia, was at a friend’s sleepover, leaving the house quiet, a perfect stage for Ethan’s forbidden thoughts to fester.

Sophia turned, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her breasts bouncing slightly, nipples pressing against her tank top in the morning chill. “Ethan, you okay? You’re zoned out,” she said, her voice warm, a teasing smile on her lips, unaware of the hunger burning in his gaze.

He flushed, his dick throbbing, his eyes darting from her thick butt to her feet, her toes curling as she leaned against the counter. “Yeah, just ... tired,” he mumbled, his hand brushing his shorts to hide his erection. Her hair shook as she laughed, turning back to the counter, her ass swaying, yoga pants stretching tighter as she bent slightly to grab a mixing bowl. Ethan’s breath hitched, his cock straining, guilt and desire warring as he watched her feet shift, her toes curling, her thick butt a magnet pulling his thoughts into dangerous territory.

“Pancakes in ten,” she said, bending further, her ass arching, yoga pants outlining her panties, the sight searing into Ethan’s brain. His hand twitched, his dick pulsing, the image a spark to his growing obsession. He muttered, “Gotta grab something,” and bolted upstairs, his heart hammering, his body alive with a need he couldn’t shake.