Kate
Copyright© 2026 by Drabbles
Chapter 2: Awakening
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 2: Awakening - What happens when you try to defend the wrong person? How do you recover when everything you wanted to believe was wrong? One woman's journey.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Fa/Fa Ma/Ma Drunk/Drugged Rape BiSexual Incest Mother Son BDSM Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging AI Generated
Kate made it three blocks before she pulled over.
Her hands were shaking on the steering wheel, her breath coming in short gasps. The image of that video played on repeat in her mind—Timmy’s hand moving with practiced ease, the casual cruelty of it. Her son. Her baby. The boy she’d raised alone, sacrificed for, believed in.
A lie. All of it a lie.
And underneath the horror and betrayal was something else, something she was ashamed to acknowledge: the memory of Matthew’s body, the heat of his hand on her arm, the way he’d looked at her like she was a woman and not just a failed mother.
When was the last time someone had looked at her like that?
Before she could talk herself out of it, Kate turned the car around.
Matthew answered the door on the second knock, surprise flickering across his handsome face. “Kate?”
“I—” She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know why she was here, except that going home to that empty house, to the bedroom next to Timmy’s, felt impossible. “Can I come back in? I just—I need—”
He stepped aside immediately. “Of course.”
The apartment felt different now, charged with possibility. Kate stood in the middle of the living room, her purse clutched in front of her like a shield. Matthew closed the door and moved toward her slowly, carefully, like she was something that might spook.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No.” The word came out as a broken laugh. “I’m not okay. I don’t know what I am.”
“Kate—”
“I spent twenty-two years raising him. Twenty-two years of sacrifice and struggle and doing everything I could to make sure he turned out to be a good man. And he—” Her voice cracked. “He tried to—”
“Hey.” Matthew’s hands were on her shoulders, warm and solid. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Isn’t it? I’m his mother. I should have seen—”
“You can’t blame yourself for his choices.”
Kate looked up at him, and the kindness in his eyes was almost too much to bear. “You barely know me. Why are you being so nice?”
“Because you deserve kindness.” His thumb traced a small circle on her shoulder, and Kate felt that touch everywhere, felt her body waking up after years of dormancy. “Because you came here ready to defend your son, even against someone who could have hurt you. That takes courage.”
“Or stupidity.”
“Courage,” Matthew repeated, and his voice dropped lower, rougher. “You’re braver than you think, Kate.”
The way he said her name—like a caress, like a promise—made something inside her crack open. She swayed toward him, and this time she didn’t pull back. This time, when the space between them disappeared, when his arms came around her and pulled her against his chest, she let herself fall.
“This is crazy,” she whispered against his shirt.
“I know.”
“I should go.”
“Do you want to?”
Kate tilted her head back to look at him. His face was so close, his lips inches from hers. She could feel the heat of him, could feel the solid strength of his body against hers. Could feel, pressed against her stomach, the unmistakable hardness of his arousal.
“No,” she breathed. “I don’t want to go.”
Matthew’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. “Tell me to stop and I will. Any time. Just say the word.”
“Don’t stop,” Kate said, and then his mouth was on hers.
The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, like he was giving her time to change her mind. But Kate didn’t want gentle. She didn’t want tentative. She wanted to forget everything—Timmy, the video, the years of loneliness and sacrifice. She wanted to feel something other than grief and shame.
She wanted to feel alive.
Kate pressed closer, her hands fisting in his shirt, and Matthew groaned against her mouth. The sound sent electricity down her spine. His tongue traced her lower lip and she opened for him, and then the kiss turned hungry, desperate. His hands slid down her back, cupped her ass, pulled her harder against him.
God, he was so hard. Even through their clothes, she could feel the size of him, thick and insistent against her belly. It had been so long—so long since she’d been touched like this, wanted like this. Her ex-husband had been perfunctory at best, and before him there had only been Timmy’s father, a boy who’d barely known what he was doing.
But Matthew knew. She could feel it in the way he kissed her, in the way his hands moved over her body with confidence and skill. He knew exactly what he was doing, and Kate was helpless against it.
“Bedroom,” Matthew murmured against her mouth, and Kate nodded, beyond words.
He took her hand and led her down a short hallway. The bedroom was neat, masculine, dominated by a king-sized bed with dark sheets. Kate’s heart hammered as Matthew turned to face her, his eyes dark with desire.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Kate answered by pulling her sweater over her head.
She stood before him in her plain cotton bra—beige, practical, nothing sexy about it—and felt a moment of self-consciousness. She wasn’t young anymore. Her body had carried a child, had softened with age. But the way Matthew looked at her, like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, made her feel powerful.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it.
His shirt came off next, and Kate’s breath caught. His body was a work of art—broad shoulders, defined chest and abs, the V of muscle that disappeared into his sweatpants. She reached out tentatively, her fingers tracing the ridges of his stomach, and felt him shudder under her touch.
“Kate,” he groaned, and then he was kissing her again, walking her backward until her legs hit the bed.
They fell together onto the mattress, a tangle of limbs and desperate touches. Matthew’s hands were everywhere—unhooking her bra, cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples until she was arching into him with a moan. When his mouth replaced his hands, sucking and licking, Kate cried out.
“God, you’re responsive,” Matthew murmured against her skin. “So fucking beautiful.”
He kissed his way down her stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her jeans. Kate lifted her hips and he pulled them off, taking her plain cotton panties with them, and then she was naked before him.
Matthew sat back on his heels, looking at her, and Kate fought the urge to cover herself. But the hunger in his eyes stopped her. He looked at her like she was a feast and he was starving.
“My turn,” she said, her voice husky with need.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.