Kiana slowly lifted Liend's hands from his sides, guiding them to her waist with a gentle sway of her hips and a quiet exhale. She leaned in close, his hands now resting around the slim curve of her thick, sculpted waist—held there like they belonged.
Her lips brushed near his ear, warm breath spreading flat across his skin.
"Guide Mommy…" she whispered, her voice soft, sultry—falling beneath the cold air like a spell.
Liend's body flushed with heat, the sudden command ringing through him like a chime striking at midnight—clear, sharp, undeniable.
He swallowed hard, eyes locked on her as she whispered again—lower this time, voice curling into something feral, almost a purr.
She leaned in closer, closing the distance—until her lips brushed against his ear, soft and delicate.
Her voice came as a hush, barely more than breath, yet unmistakably firm.
"Don't be shy..." she whispered, her words warm "Mommy's hips will follow your instructions."
Her words slipped into his ear like glass shattering on a cold floor.
Kiana leaned lower, parting her lips slowly before clamping them around his earlobe—merciless, unrelenting. Her voice came through the press of her lips, muffled and broken—a hush cracked with heat.
A drop of saliva slipped from her mouth, warm and wet, circling over the edge of his ear—tracing a path across the cold, dry skin. It clung, lingered… before some dissolved into the heat of his body, and others fell, slow and heavy, sliding off his form.
"After all…" she murmured, voice low and dangerous, as her tongue followed—licking a slow, deliberate trail across his skin.Her breath chilled the path behind, each drop of moisture part blessing, part threat.
"After all... Mommy maintained this figure just for you, step-son."
Her final words carried more than meaning—they carried intent. Sharp, deliberate. An obsession wrapped in sweetness—soft in voice, sharp in intent.
Liend swallowed hard.
His gaze clung to Kiana's body as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a low growl.
"Go on..."
Her fingers slid from his shoulders, drifting down his chest—nails grazing lightly, teasing his skin—until they found his hands again, resting at either side of her waist.
She placed them there with purpose, her breath brushing his lips, her voice sultry and slow:
"Go on… move Mommy's hips…"She hissed—"…to your desire."
She placed her hands over his, guiding them—her hips following their path, moving in sync with the motion she carved out through him. Her waist ground down in steady, deliberate rolls, showing him exactly what those hips could do.
Showing him the power he held over her now—his mother, beneath his touch.
Then Kiana pulled away, lifting her hands from her waist as she continued to grind—slow, relentless—rocking against Liend's pelvis with growing purpose. Her own hands slid forward, gliding low along his sides before rising.
She tilted her head back, lips pressed inward in restraint, as her hips rolled firmly over his cock—her face now fully in view, framed within his line of sight.
With a slow motion, she cupped his cheeks, her palms pressing warmly to his face.
Sweat trailed down her skin, streaking through the remnants of her makeup—dripping onto his neck in cold, wet beads. Her voice came soft—barely a whisper—as she looked down at him with heat and something close to reverence.
"Mommy wants you..." she whispered, his face cradled gently in her hands."Mommy wants you to use her… to feel comfortable with Mommy's body."
----
Liend's expression stayed tense, his jaw tight, sweat gathering at his brow. He didn't speak—he only looked up at her.
Kiana, still seated firmly atop him, kept grinding—slow, steady—her warmth pressing into him, her breath uneven. His hands remained at her waist, uncertain, unmoving. He gulped, eyes fixed on the beauty above him—her body, her expression, the way she gasped softly, waiting for his answer.
Still, Liend said nothing. His face remained tight, his body torn between hesitation and heat—conflicted, unsure.
And Kiana… simply looked down at him, calm. Understanding.
----
"My son's... such a clueless fool," Kiana sighed, her voice low with exasperated fondness.
She looked down at him, uncertainty still flickering across his face. With a tired exhale, her expression softened into something worn—almost disappointed—as she gave a subtle shake of her head.
Without a word, she slipped one finger between his lips, gently pressing inside. Liend's mouth parted slightly at first… then wider, as she drew her finger down, coaxing his jaw open further.
She leaned in.
Her hips lifted slowly from his grind, rising off his lap in a smooth motion—yet his hands stayed right where they were, still clinging to her waist, afraid to let go.
----
Kiana leaned forward, her hips lifting from Liend's pelvis in a slow, fluid motion. Her face hovered just inches above his, strands of hair falling gently over her features.
With a quiet breath, she brought her hand up—fingers delicately catching the loose strand veiling her eye. She tucked it back behind her ear, slow and graceful, letting her hand linger there… holding the strand in place as Liend's eyes remained locked on hers.
Kiana closed her eyes, lips softly pressed together, as Liend stared up—entranced.
A low, lewd sound stirred behind her closed mouth—wet, sultry. Her tongue moved slowly inside, swirling as she built up more saliva, each motion deliberate, intimate. Then, gradually, she stilled—only a soft hum escaping her.
She parted her lips slightly.
From within, her tongue slipped forward—slow, teasing—hovering just above Liend's face.
Kiana held his jaw open, her finger still hooked beneath his chin. She leaned forward, pooling a thick string of saliva inside her mouth—letting it gather, then slowly release.
A warm strand stretched from her tongue to his parted lips, webbing through the air, bridging the space between their mouths.
Liend's heart skipped—once, twice, maybe more—as he stared up at her. Her mouth opened wider, tongue glistening with spit, hovering above his own. And yet, what shook him most wasn't the act—but the look on her face.
Compassion.
Warm, terrifyingly tender compassion.
He couldn't take it.
His hands shifted—gripping her thick, godlike hips, the ones she'd told him he could command. He moved instinctively, guided by want, reverence, need.
A soft moan slipped from Kiana's lips—barely audible, but enough.