Chapter 5: Weekend Takeover + Family Dinner Tease

Saturday morning light spilled through the front window as Dad’s car rolled down the driveway, golf clubs rattling in the trunk. Lauren and I stood side by side in the foyer like two kids cutting class, watching until the taillights vanished around the corner. She turned to me wearing nothing but a short silk robe that barely skimmed the tops of her thighs. The tie was loose; one shift and it would fall open. Her dark eyes sparkled with pure mischief.

“He won’t be back until six,” she said, voice already husky. “The house is ours. Bike first ... then everywhere else.”

I was already naked—new weekend rule I’d learned the second Dad left. She took my hand and led me straight to the living room. The dildo attachment clicked into place on the saddle with a solid snap. Lauren shrugged the robe off, letting it pool at her feet, and swung one leg over the frame. The thick toy slid home as she sank down, a low sigh escaping her lips. I dropped to my knees behind her without being told.

My tongue found her tight ring immediately, circling slow and deliberate while she began to pedal. The vibration from the dildo traveled straight through her body into my mouth. She tasted clean and warm, the faint musk of morning arousal sharpening with every rotation. Within minutes her hips were rocking harder, cheeks flexing against my face. She came before nine o’clock, thighs quaking, a soft cry muffled against the handlebars.

When she climbed off, still trembling, she cupped my chin and smiled. “Today we fuck in every room. No clothes until dinner. Mommy needs her boy’s cock all day.”

The marathon began in the kitchen. She bent over the counter to pour coffee, ass presented like an offering. I stepped behind her, gripped her hips, and sank in deep. The doggy angle let me drive straight to her limit with every thrust. My palm cracked across her cheek—sharp enough to leave faint red prints that bloomed beautifully while she stirred creamer. She pushed back to meet me, coffee mug rattling, whispering “harder” between gasps. I licked the fresh sheen from the small of her back, salt blooming on my tongue as her walls fluttered and clenched.

We moved to the couch next. She lay face-down on the cushions while an old family movie played on the TV—the same one we used to watch together years ago, popcorn bowls between us. The irony burned deliciously as I covered her completely, chest to her back, hips pinning her down in prone bone. The position locked us tight; every slow grind pressed me against that perfect deep spot inside her. She moaned into the pillow, fingers twisting the fabric, body rocking in tiny helpless waves. I stayed buried, rolling my hips in long circles until she shattered twice beneath me, the couch creaking under our combined weight like it remembered quieter nights.