Ryan woke up Sunday morning with the image burned behind his eyelids: Emily's small body rocking on the desk, Leon's thick cock disappearing inside her over and over while his own cum cooled on her stomach.
He groaned and rolled over.
The sheets smelled faintly of his mom's laundry detergent and something else: the memory of her topless cooking, braless hugs, cum-glossed lips.
Downstairs smelled like coffee and pancakes.
Lauren was already at the stove, wearing an oversized sleep shirt that ended mid-thigh. No bra, of course. The fabric was thin and pale blue, every time she reached for a spatula her heavy breasts shifted, nipples dark shadows sliding across the cotton. When she turned to pour orange juice, the shirt clung to her ass for a second, outlining everything.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she sang, bending over to slide pancakes onto a plate. The shirt rode up just enough to flash the bottom curve of her cheeks. Ryan's morning wood twitched traitorously.
"Morning," he mumbled, eyes glued to his phone so he wouldn't stare.
Lauren set the plate in front of him, leaned down, and kissed the top of his head. Her breasts pressed softly against his shoulder for a second.
"Eat up. It's Sunday, no rush."
She hummed and started wiping the counters, bending and stretching, tits swaying freely under the shirt. Ryan ate fast and escaped to the living room couch.
He flipped on the TV, volume low, some random action movie. Anything to drown out yesterday.
Lauren came in with a bucket and rag, got on her hands and knees to scrub the coffee table. The sleep shirt gaped open at the neck, from the couch Ryan had a perfect view straight down to her hanging breasts, nipples brushing the fabric every time she moved.
He shifted, trying to hide the growing bulge in his sweats.
Doorbell.
Ryan glanced toward the hall. Lauren stood up, wiped her hands on the shirt making the front cling even more, and padded to the door.
He heard the latch, then voices.
Female laughter he knew too well, and a deeper one: Leon.
Lauren's voice floated in. "Leon! What a nice surprise. Come in, come in. Ryan's in the living room watching TV."
Ryan's stomach dropped.
Leon strolled in first, backpack slung over one shoulder, wearing that same easy grin. Behind him Lauren closed the door, still in the thin sleep shirt, nipples poking like headlights.
Leon's eyes flicked to Ryan on the couch. "Yo, bro. Sup."
Ryan managed a weak nod.
Lauren smiled brightly. "You boys play nice. I've got chores." She turned to head back to the kitchen.
Leon's voice stopped her. "Actually, Lauren… I didn't come for Ryan today."
Lauren paused, head tilted. "Oh?"
Leon set the backpack down, pulled out a glossy black shopping bag, and dangled it by the handles.
"I came for the neighborhood milf."
Lauren's eyes went glassy instantly. Shoulders relaxed, smile softened.
Leon handed her the bag. "Go put this on. Nothing else."
Lauren took it without question, fingers brushing his. Leon gave her ass a casual, possessive slap as she walked past. The smack echoed, she just flinched a little, and just kept walking upstairs, hips swaying.
Ryan's mouth was sand. "What… what did you buy her?"
Leon dropped onto the couch beside him, kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "Surprise. You're gonna love this."
Ryan's heart hammered. "Leon, come on. It's Sunday. My mom–"
"Relax. Ten minutes, tops."
They sat in tense silence. The TV droned. Ryan kept picturing what might be in that bag. His mind supplied lace, straps, cutouts: things no son should imagine on his mother.
Footsteps on the stairs.
Slow. Deliberate.
Lauren appeared in the doorway. Ryan forgot how to breathe.
She wore a completely sheer black babydoll lingerie set. The top was nothing but see-through mesh that hid exactly zero. Her full breasts were on perfect display, dark nipples stiff and visible from across the room. The hem barely skimmed the top of her thighs, matching sheer thong underneath, the thin strip disappearing between her cheeks. Garters held up thigh-high stockings that made her legs look endless.
She stood there like a model, hands loose at her sides, small dreamy smile on her face.
Leon let out a low whistle. "Holy fuck. Even better than the picture."
Ryan couldn't speak. His cock was instantly, painfully hard again.
Lauren twirled once, slowly, the sheer fabric floating. "Do you like it, Leon?"
"Love it, neighborhood milf. Come here."
She walked straight to him, hips swaying, breasts bouncing softly with each step. Stopped right in front of the couch.
Leon reached out, hooked a finger in the mesh between her breasts, and tugged gently. The fabric stretched, nipples poking harder against it.
"Turn around. Let Ryan see the back."
Lauren pivoted. The thong was nothing more than a string, her entire ass was bare, round and perfect.
Leon looked at Ryan, eyes dancing. "Told you it was a good surprise."
Ryan's voice came out a croak. "Mom…"
Lauren glanced over her shoulder at him, smile warm and vacant. "It's okay, honey. Leon picked it out special."
Leon slid a hand up the back of her thigh, cupped one cheek, squeezed. "Softest ass in the neighborhood. You ever seen anything hotter?"
Ryan couldn't answer. He just stared, cock throbbing against his sweats, shame and lust twisting together so tight he felt sick.
Leon leaned back, spread his arms across the couch like a king.
"Sunday funday starts now, bro."
To be continued…
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