Jake slammed the front door behind him, the cool night air hitting his face as he jogged down the porch steps. At 22, college life was a grind, but Fridays meant blowing off steam with the guys—beers at the dive bar downtown, maybe some pool, and forgetting about exams for a few hours. He patted his jeans pocket for his wallet, keys jingling in the other hand. His buddies were waiting in the car idling at the curb, engine rumbling. 'Hurry up, man!' his friend Marco yelled from the passenger window.
Jake waved them off, sliding into the back seat. 'One sec, forgot something.' The car peeled out, tires screeching lightly on the asphalt. Five minutes into the drive, chatting about the latest game, it hit him like a brick—his wallet. Shit. He must've left it on the kitchen counter after grabbing a snack. 'Turn around, guys. Wallet's back home.' Groans filled the car, but they looped back, the fifteen-minute detour stretching his patience.
Pulling up to the house again, Jake hopped out. 'I'll be quick—meet you there.' The porch light flickered dimly, casting long shadows. As he approached the door, his foot nudged something solid. He glanced down, heart skipping. His dad, sprawled out like a sack of potatoes, face slack and snoring wetly, a puddle of vomit inches from his mouth. Empty beer cans scattered around him—six-pack from the garage, probably polished off solo after another argument with Elena, Jake's stepmom. Dad had always been a lightweight binger, but this? He looked half-dead, chest rising shallowly, reeking of stale whiskey and regret.
'Jesus, Dad,' Jake muttered, crouching to check his pulse. Steady, but out cold. No way he was driving like this. With a grunt, Jake hooked his arms under his dad's armpits, hauling the dead weight up. His dad—mid-forties, paunchy from desk job beers—lolled like a ragdoll, head flopping. Jake dragged him inside, the door creaking shut behind them. The house was quiet, save for the distant hum of the AC. He aimed for Dad's bedroom down the hall, muscles straining as he half-carried, half-dragged the limp body.
Pushing the bedroom door open with his shoulder, Jake froze. The room was dimly lit by a bedside lamp, casting warm glows over the king-sized bed. There, in the center, was Elena—his stepmom of five years, the woman who'd married his dad when Jake was 17. Earlier that evening, as he'd grabbed his keys, she'd been in the kitchen, dressed like the perfect housewife: floral apron over a knee-length skirt, blouse buttoned primly, hair in a neat ponytail, humming while stirring pasta sauce. Smiling at him, asking about his night out. Innocent, maternal.
Now? Holy fuck. She was splayed eagle on the bed, wrists bound to the headboard with red silk ties, ankles spread and tied to the footposts. A black ball gag stretched her full lips, drool trickling down her chin onto her heaving chest. A blindfold—thick satin—covered her eyes completely. And between her thighs, shoved deep into her shaved pussy, a thick black vibrator buzzed relentlessly on low, its cord trailing to the outlet. Her body arched subtly, hips twitching, a low, muffled moan escaping around the gag. She was naked except for thigh-high stockings, her D-cup tits bouncing with each involuntary shudder, nipples hard as pebbles. Sweat glistened on her skin, pussy lips swollen and slick around the invading toy.
Jake's arms buckled. His dad slipped from his grip, thudding to the carpet with a dull thump. The old man didn't stir—snoring louder, oblivious. Jake's heart hammered, panic surging. What the hell? Had Dad done this? Some kinky game gone wrong? Or was Elena into this shit on her own? The vibrator's hum mixed with her whimpers—desperate, needy sounds that twisted something primal in Jake's gut. He backed up a step, door half-open, ready to bolt. If she heard him, if Dad woke... but the fear melted fast, replaced by a rush of heat straight to his cock.
Those moans—raw, animalistic—echoed in his skull. Elena, the stepmom who'd baked his birthday cakes, who'd scolded him for late nights, now trussed up like a fucktoy, begging silently for more. His dick throbbed in his jeans, straining against the zipper. Scared? Yeah, but the arousal hit harder, flooding his veins like fire. He couldn't stop staring: the way her pussy clenched around the vibe, juices leaking onto the sheets; her tits rising and falling, begging to be mauled; that gag making her look so helpless, so ready to be used. Fuck it. What a man must do. He wasn't leaving now.
Jake eased the door shut, locking it softly. His phone was in his pocket—he pulled it out, switching to video mode, propping it against a dresser for a wide shot. The red record light blinked on, capturing everything. Heart pounding, he stripped fast: shirt tossed, jeans kicked off, boxers shoved down. His eight-inch cock sprang free, rock-hard, veins bulging, pre-cum already beading at the slit. He approached the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he knelt between her spread legs.
Elena's body sensed the shift, hips bucking toward the new presence. Another muffled moan—'Mmmph!'—vibrating through the gag. She thought it was Dad, no doubt. Blindfolded, gagged, lost in her twisted game. Jake gripped the vibrator's base, twisting it deeper before yanking it out with a wet schlop. Her pussy gaped momentarily, empty and twitching, a string of arousal connecting the toy to her folds. He tossed it aside, buzzing forgotten on the floor. Leaning in, he inhaled her scent—musky, aroused woman—before dragging his tongue flat along her slit, from asshole to clit.
She jerked, thighs quivering against the restraints. 'Ahh!' Muffled approval. Jake dove in, eating her like a starving man. Tongue spearing her hole, lapping the tangy juices, sucking her engorged clit between his lips. He bit down lightly, teeth grazing the nub, making her arch off the bed. Fingers joined—two plunging knuckle-deep, curling to hit her G-spot, pumping hard and fast. Her walls fluttered, squeezing him, more moans spilling out. He added a third finger, stretching her roughly, thumb circling her asshole, pressing in just the tip.
Jake's cock ached, leaking steadily. He couldn't wait. Rising up, he slapped his thick shaft against her pussy—once, twice, the wet smacks echoing. Then, aligning the head, he thrust in balls-deep in one brutal shove. Elena's body convulsed, a scream trapped in her throat. So tight, so hot—velvet walls gripping him like a vice. He didn't ease in; no, he pounded like an addict, hips slamming forward, balls slapping her ass. The bedframe rattled, headboard banging the wall. He grabbed her tits, squeezing hard, pinching nipples until they bruised purple, twisting them viciously.
'Fuck, you're soaked for it,' he growled low, voice disguised deeper than usual. She bucked up to meet him, following his rhythm instinctively—always the pleaser, even bound. Missionary turned savage: he hooked her legs over his shoulders, folding her in half, drilling deeper, cockhead battering her cervix. Juices squirted with each withdraw, soaking his pubes. He leaned down, biting her neck, sucking marks that'd bloom purple by morning—gruesome reminders of the ravaging.
Sweat poured off him, dripping onto her skin. He pulled out abruptly, her pussy clenching at the loss, then flipped her roughly—ties allowing just enough slack. Ass up now, face down in the pillow, gag muffling her gasps. Jake spread her cheeks, spitting on her puckered asshole before shoving his cock back into her cunt from behind. Doggy-style frenzy: one hand fisting her hair, yanking her head back; the other spanking her ass cheeks raw, handprints blooming red, then welting. He fucked like a beast, grunting with each plunge, her body jolting forward.
' Take it, you slut,' he whispered, heat building. She pushed back, ass rippling, moaning approval. He reached under, fingers rubbing her clit viciously—pinching, slapping the sensitive bud until she shuddered, orgasm ripping through her. Walls milked him, but he held off, pulling out to slap his slick cock on her ass. Then, lubed by her cum, he pressed the head to her asshole. No mercy—he forced in, inch by burning inch, her ring stretching obscenely around his girth.
Elena thrashed, muffled cries peaking—pain and pleasure blurring. Jake didn't stop, burying to the hilt, then reaming her bowels with short, brutal thrusts building to full-length pistons. Her ass clenched like a fist, hot and forbidden. He alternated holes now: cock from ass to pussy, back again, the gruesome mix of fluids slicking everything. She followed every demand—when he growled 'Arch your back,' she did; 'Spread wider,' her knees strained against ties.
Hours blurred in the erotic haze. He untied one ankle briefly to flip her again, re-securing for reverse cowgirl. Straddling him backward, she sank down—blind, gagged, riding his cock in her pussy while he mauled her ass cheeks, fingers probing the stretched hole. Then, full cowgirl: facing him, tits bouncing wildly as she ground down, following his slaps to her thighs, his bites on her shoulders. Blood welled from one nip, metallic on his tongue—he licked it clean, thrusting up to meet her.
Break? None. He fetched the vibrator, buzzing it against her clit while buried in her ass, the dual assault making her convulse, squirting arcs onto his chest. Gruesome intensity: he choked her lightly around the gag's strap, restricting air until her face flushed, then releasing as she came again, body seizing. Positions cycled—spooning side-fuck, her leg hooked over his arm, cock grinding deep; standing against the wall, ties loosened just enough, her body impaled as he bounced her like a ragdoll.
All night, he ravaged. Cum built—first load deep in her pussy, flooding her womb, excess bubbling out as he kept thrusting through it. Second in her ass, hot ropes painting her insides, leaking down her thighs. Third on her tits, ropes splattering, him smearing it with his palm before forcing fingers into her mouth around the gag. She sucked greedily, following his lead. Fourth, throat-fuck: gag out briefly, cock down her gullet, balls on her chin, until she gagged and swallowed his spurts.
The phone captured it all—close-ups of his cock stretching her holes, her body marked with bites and bruises, tears soaking the blindfold from overwhelming sensations. Dad snored on the floor, unmoving witness. Jake's addiction peaked; he couldn't stop, pounding until muscles screamed, her moans turning hoarse.
Dawn crept in, gray light filtering curtains. Exhausted, Jake finally pulled out, her body limp, cum-streaked, ravaged. He wiped his cock on her stockings, rebound the gag loosely, repositioned the blindfold. Slipping the phone into his pocket, he dragged Dad onto the bed—managing to tuck him in beside her, clothes half-on. Elena stirred faintly, curling into what she thought was her husband, a satisfied sigh escaping.
Jake dressed quietly, wallet forgotten on the dresser—he grabbed it now. Slipping out, he deleted the drive footage? No, kept it, hidden in his phone's vault. A secret trophy of the night he claimed his stepmom.
Morning light hit. Elena woke sore, every muscle aching, pussy and ass throbbing like fire. Bites and bruises mapped her skin—gruesome badges of a wild night. Beside her, her husband snored, innocent in sleep. 'Rough one last night, huh?' she murmured, kissing his cheek, assuming his drunken haze birthed the frenzy. She stretched, wincing at the pull in her wrists from ties, the sticky remnants between her legs. Smiling secretly, she slipped into the shower, none the wiser that her stepson had ravaged her all night, turning housewife into whore.
Jake, back with buddies, nursed a beer, the video burning in his mind. Addicted already, plotting the next 'forgetful' night.