I woke up tangled in the soft, fluffy warmth of my bed, my thick, veiny cock already rock-hard and aching from a raging morning erection. The heavy shaft pulsed against my stomach, the swollen purple head slick and shiny with a fat bead of precum that slowly oozed down the underside, making my balls tighten with need. Groaning softly, I decided a hot shower was the only way to start the day, but the moment I reached the bathroom door, I heard the steady hiss of water and the faint, wet slap of soapy hands on skin—my stepmother was already inside.
I leaned against the wall to wait, heart hammering, when my eyes fell on the laundry basket right beside me. There they were: her lacy black bra, still warm, and a pair of her skimpy panties, absolutely soaked through with her morning juices. The musky, sweet-tangy scent of her aroused pussy hit me like a drug, making my cock jerk violently and spit another thick rope of precum onto the floor. I couldn't stop myself—I grabbed the drenched panties, feeling the slippery, creamy wetness coat my fingers, pressed the soaked crotch to my nose for one deep, filthy inhale, then tossed both the bra and panties into the washing machine. My own boxers followed, and suddenly I was standing there completely naked, my massive erection bobbing heavily in the cool air, the tip glistening and dripping steadily, veins bulging, balls drawn up tight and full.
A few minutes later the shower door slid open with a steamy whoosh. My stepmother stepped out, gloriously naked, water cascading down her body in glistening rivulets. Her huge, pendulous tits swayed and bounced with every breath, the fat pink nipples stiff and puckered into tight peaks, areolas wide and pebbled, begging to be sucked and bitten. Her ass was thick and juicy, two perfect pale globes that jiggled hypnotically, the deep cleft between them still shiny from the shower. And between her smooth, thick thighs—her completely shaved pussy, puffy outer lips parted lewdly, revealing the slick, swollen pink inner folds and her engorged clit peeking out like a shiny pearl. A clear strand of her creamy arousal stretched from her open cunt lips down her inner thigh, mixing with shower water, the scent of her wet sex filling the small space and making my mouth water.
Her eyes—dark, heavy-lidded with pure lust and something deeper, something loving—locked onto mine, then slowly dragged down to my throbbing, precum-drooling cock. A wicked little smile curved her full lips as she watched another fat drop spill from my slit.
"Go take your shower, baby," she purred, voice husky and dripping with filthy promise. "I'll get breakfast ready for us."
I could only nod, throat tight, my cock twitching so hard it slapped against my abs. She turned and walked away, hips rolling, ass cheeks bouncing, that glistening pussy winking at me with every step until she disappeared into the kitchen. Heart pounding, cock still leaking like a faucet, I finally stepped into the shower, the hot spray doing nothing to cool the burning need she'd just set on fire.
The moment I stepped under the scorching spray, steam billowed around me like a thick, humid cloud, the water pounding against my chest and running in hot rivulets down my abs to my throbbing cock. It was already steel-hard, veins bulging angrily along the thick nine-inch shaft, the swollen purple head flaring wide and leaking a steady stream of clear precum that mixed instantly with the slick, creamy white soap I pumped into my fist. I wrapped my fingers tight around the heavy meat, the soap turning everything into a filthy, slippery mess—wet, obscene squelching sounds echoing off the tiles with every slow, deliberate stroke. *Schlick… schlick… schlick…*
My hips rocked forward as I picked up a steady medium rhythm, fist gliding smoothly from base to tip, twisting over the sensitive head on every upstroke so the soap and precum frothed into thick white bubbles that dripped off my balls and splattered onto the shower floor. "Ahhh… fuck, Mommy," I groaned loud, voice raw and broken with lust, eyes squeezed shut as the fantasy flooded my brain. "Your pussy… so fucking pink and dripping for me… those fat, juicy lips spread open, creamy girl-cum running down your thighs… and those huge, heavy tits… bouncing, nipples so hard and pink, begging for my mouth…"
The words spilled out between deep, guttural moans as I pumped faster, the wet *slap-slap-slap* of my soapy fist growing louder, more desperate. I could picture her perfectly—those massive breasts swaying, water cascading over the stiff peaks, her shaved cunt glistening and puffy, clit swollen and peeking out, inner folds shiny and open just for me. My balls tightened, drawing up heavy and full, the pressure building hot and electric at the base of my spine. I edged myself cruelly, slowing the rhythm just enough to keep the orgasm simmering, then speeding up again, fist flying, cockhead flaring purple and angry, spitting thick ropes of precum that the soap whipped into creamy lather.
Minutes blurred into pure, filthy bliss until the pleasure finally crested. With a strangled "Mommy—!" I exploded, thick jets of hot cum blasting from my pulsing cock, painting the shower wall in long, pearly streaks before the water washed it away. My knees buckled, chest heaving, cock still twitching and dribbling the last drops as I rinsed off.
I shut off the water, stepped out dripping and naked, my spent-but-still-thick cock swinging heavy between my thighs, glistening with water and leftover soap. Grabbing a fluffy towel, I rubbed it roughly through my wet hair, muscles flexing, while the delicious smell of bacon and coffee drifted from the kitchen where my stepmother was cooking—completely unaware (or maybe fully aware) of how hard I'd just come moaning her name. My heart still hammered, cock giving one last lazy throb as I walked toward the scent of breakfast, still gloriously naked and already feeling the hunger stir again.
A few minutes later I threw on a casual white t-shirt that clung to my still-damp, muscled chest and a pair of loose grey sweatpants that hung low on my hips, the soft fabric doing nothing to hide the thick, heavy outline of my cock — still half-hard and lazily twitching from the filthy shower orgasm where I'd just painted the tiles moaning her name.
Sarah was already dressed in her casual clothes, looking like pure sex even now: a tight, low-cut cream tank top stretched obscenely across her massive, pendulous tits, the thin cotton so thin her wide pink areolas were faintly visible and her fat, stiff nipples poked out like hard little bullets, begging to be pinched and sucked. Below, skin-tight black yoga pants hugged every curve of her thick thighs and that juicy, heart-shaped ass like they were painted on, the deep seam wedged tight between her plump cheeks and clearly outlining the puffy, swollen lips of her completely shaved pussy — a faint, dark wet spot right at the crotch where her creamy juices had already soaked through again.
We sat opposite each other at the breakfast table, the air thick with the sizzling scent of bacon, fresh coffee, and the sweet, musky aroma of her aroused cunt that still lingered from the shower. I could barely eat, my eyes locked on the way her enormous breasts heaved and jiggled softly with every breath, those rock-hard nipples straining harder against the fabric every time she leaned forward to take a bite.
Halfway through the meal, Sarah set her fork down, leaned in so her heavy tits nearly spilled completely out of her top, deep cleavage glistening, and spoke in that same husky, dripping-with-lust voice that had made my cock throb all morning:
"Alex… I'm pregnant. And I'm getting married to another man. I'm moving out today — I already packed my bags. I'm leaving the house for you… you're grown now, you can take care of yourself. I need to move on with my life too. I'll send the wedding invitation to your phone. It's next month… you come if you have time."
Her full lips curved into a soft, almost loving smile as she said it, eyes still dark with that same filthy hunger, like she could still taste how badly I wanted to bury my face between her dripping pink folds.
Then she stood up gracefully, those massive tits bouncing heavily, ass cheeks rippling and stretching the yoga pants to the limit as she turned. The seam rode even deeper, perfectly framing the plump, puffy shape of her cunt from behind, that wet spot now bigger, darker, glistening. She grabbed her two packed suitcases, hips swaying seductively with every step, thick thighs rubbing together, ass jiggling hypnotically all the way to the front door.
Outside, a sleek black luxurious car was already waiting, engine purring low. She loaded her bags into the trunk, bent over so her yoga pants pulled even tighter across her juicy ass and that soaked pussy mound, then slid into the passenger seat. The car pulled away smoothly and disappeared down the street, leaving nothing but the faint scent of her perfume and wet cunt in the air.
I just sat there.
Completely frozen.
Fork still in my hand, heart hammering, throat tight. My cock — the fucking traitor — had gone fully rock-hard again, tenting my sweatpants obscenely, the swollen purple head leaking thick, hot ropes of precum that soaked through the grey fabric in a dark, spreading wet spot. I didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't even blink. I just stared at the empty doorway, mind replaying every explicit second of her naked body this morning — those huge swaying tits, that open, dripping pink pussy, her hard nipples, that lust-drunk look in her eyes — while the crushing weight of her words slowly settled over me like hot, sticky cum.