She was in the kitchen when he walked in, sunlight spilling across her like it was conspiring to show him every sinful detail.
His stepmom, not "mom," never that in his head, but the woman he'd been jerking off to for the past three years.
The thin cotton T-shirt she wore clung to her like it had been painted on, nipples poking through just enough to tease a man, inviting him to suck in the pink cherries, twisting them to make her cry.
She was not wearing any bra.
He knew that shape by heart from countless stolen glances, every curve etched into his brain like a favorite porn scene.
Her shorts were short...soft, faded denim that barely covered her ass.
When she reached up for a glass on the top shelf, the fabric rode high enough for him to see the lower curve of her cheeks, making his cock throb uncontrollably.
He had an obsession with milfs, and she was the sole reason for that.
Because, this woman..damn, she was built like temptation itself.
That tight little waist leading down to hips made for gripping, that huge ass that swayed when she walked around the house in those loose shorts, breasts that looked heavy enough to fill both hands, he could picture them bare, nipples pebbling under his tongue.
She didn't even have to try; she radiated sex without meaning to.
He had a face that made women linger with their eyes, a lean figure cut with eight-pack abs, and below the belt well...due to all these things, he'd never had any problems getting women, and had no reasons to envy others, or so he thought.
But that thought changed two years ago.
Three years ago, when his father brought her home as his new wife, he saw her for the first time.
And for the first time in his life, envy cut him to the bone.
When his dad first said he was going to remarry, Max had been surprised.
After all, he knew how much his father had loved his late wife, Max's mother.
Even after years of her passing, he'd never so much as dated publicly.
You know, Max was six when she died. Now, at twenty-two, he'd spent the last thirteen years seeing his father alone.
Of course, he wasn't a worm in his stomach, so, he didn't know if his dad was having a secret affair with some woman, after all, as rich as he was, it wouldn't be a too big of a deal for him to keep a few mistress here and there.
Now did he tell you they were rich?
Not the filthy rich kind, but rich nonetheless.
After all, even owning a house in New York is like buying a seat on a rocket to the moon, and they owned a fucking mansion.
So, when Max heard the news, his first thought was that some young gold digger had managed to wrap his old man around her finger.
That thought only solidified when he learned her age.
Although fortunately, he didn't marry a young girl around his age, but not around his either.
Instead, he married a woman, who had just turned thirty one.
A young woman, thirty-one, and a man pushing fifty-three; to be honest, no matter how he thought about it, the math screamed opportunist.
And that woman didn't have a job, so wasn't that basically screaming that she wanted to live off his money?
If it were a few years ago, he wouldn't be surprised that his old man had managed to hookup with some beauty.
After all, even if we didn't count his wealth...his charm was there...enough for him to get a woman.
Even in his forties, the man was too good-looking for his age that the young girls in the college would ask for his number in the street, but that was freakin ten years ago.
Now, the man's hair was graying, his face lined, his body a little worn from decades of overwork.
That's also the reasons...why, he was sure that, this woman saw dollar signs, not love or desire of some sort.
But the moment he saw her...every thought was thrown out of the window.
She wasn't just beautiful, a walking, breathing sin wrapped in tight curves and soft skin.
Her glossy black, falling to her mid-back, framed one of...if not the most gorgeous looking face he'd ever seen.
Her eyes were large and almond-shaped, with just enough eyeliner to make them look even even more charming.
And her full, luscious lips.
The moment his eyes fell in them, the first thought that shot through his mind wasn't about how soft and tasty they would feel against his lips.
No, it was how they'd feel stretched around his cock, her mouth sealing tight while he pushed deeper, until the head scraped the back of her throat.
He imagined the warmth, the wetness, the way her tongue would curl and the way she'd gag when he held her there, his shaft throbbing against her as she swallowed around him.
Her tits were freakin massive, heavy, and perfectly round, straining against her top with every breath she took, making him want to bury his face between them, squeeze them hard enough to leave marks, feel their weight in his palms, watch them jiggle when he slammed into her.
Although he didn't see her nipples, but he knew that they were definitely too notch.
But even with all these features, enough to make every man in the world, swoon over her, what really attracted his eyes the most was that ass.
That fucking ass.
The way it jiggled with each step, the way the cheeks pushed against the fabric like they were fighting to break free… it was obscene.
Two perfect mounds of soft, ripe flesh, made to be grabbed, made to be squeezed and spanked until it turned a deep, delicious red.
Made to be bent over and fucked until her voice cracked from screaming.
And to think his old man got to have it every night.
That he would get to bury his cock between those plump, luscious lips every damn night, feel her tongue curl and swirl around him, choke on him until her eyes watered and mascara ran down her cheeks.
That he would get to cup those fat, juicy melons in his hands, knead them, suck on those perfect, fat nipples, bite down until she whimpered.
That he would get to slap that perfect, obscene, mouth watering ass, hard enough to make it red.
To think the old man got to fuck her every single night, shove his cock deep between those thick cheeks, slam into her until they bounced against him, watch her arch her back and beg for more made him burn with jealousy.
It was bad.
Max knew he shouldn't feel it, shouldn't feel that way after all, this was his stepmom and his dad's wife, but the desires wouldn't just go away, instead they kept magnifying.
But this could not be blamed on him.
After all, watching such a gorgeous fucking beauty walk, swaying those tits and that busty ass in front of you… the way her hips rolled with every step.
Her body scent mixed with perfume curling into his senses, her mouth curving into that wicked little smile, lips glistening like she knew exactly what they were doing to him.
A young guy, full of hormones, watching that every single day?
And she wasn't acting like some respectable wife either.
It was okay at first ...during the first year of their marriage, she was a bit restrained.
But now...it was too unbearable.
Because she was getting too comfortable.
Like too comfortable that it made him uncomfortable.
Sometimes, she'd lean in, just close enough for her breath to brush his cheek.
The casual touches, her hand sliding across his shoulder, her arm wrapping around him in a hug that pressed her breasts right into his chest, letting her warmth sink into him until his pulse was hammering in his ears.
Of course, he was not a virgin, who'd never tasted a woman before, so, he did not get flustered by her teasing.
However, as if he didn't show the reaction and action she wanted, she became even more unrestrained.
Her clothes at home grew smaller, tighter, more revealing, especially when his dad wasn't at home.
Loose tank tops with no bra, her nipples pressing against the thin fabric.
Shorts so tiny they barely covered her ass cheeks, riding up with every step.
Sometimes just a silky robe, untied enough to flash the side of her breast when she bent over.
It wasn't clothing fit for the presence of a man but she wore it in front of her stepson.
And then there were the nights.
Although the mansion was quite huge and there was no need to worry about soundproofing ..however even then as he walked out at the night, he could still hear her moans, those shamelessly loud moans, echoing down the hallway from his dad's bedroom.
Moans that rose higher and higher, until they became cries, almost screams…he could swear she was doing it to make sure he heard.
And that made him verify his earlier guess, she was a total slut.
A cock hungry slut, who'd probably cheated on his old man, after she found out that he couldn't satisfy her.
Maybe she did it, maybe she had done it several times already.
While he was at college and his dad was at his office, this bitch was at the house, all alone...wearing such revealing clothes, which would make a man boil in lust.
Just thinking about her made his cock swell.
Many times, he wanted to just grab her, drag her into his lap, and fuck her hard.
And there was this gnawing certainty at the back of his mind, that if he did, she wouldn't refuse.
But he didn't want to just rely on a guess, no matter how right it felt.
Even if he was ninety-nine percent sure she'd spread her legs for him without a fight, that one percent of doubt kept him from making the leap.
Well..you could say he was a coward, but he still loved his dad.
If he ever made a move on that woman and she decided to run her mouth, things would fall apart fast. One word to his father, and their relationship could collapse completely.
He didn't doubt for a second that she'd do it.
Although his dad had spent a small fortune keeping her happy, designer clothes, trips, jewelry...but as they say greed never really ends.
No matter how much you have, it's never enough.
Not to mention, that old man had already put everything in his name—the house, the land, the investments. Legally, it was all his now.
He was the sole beneficiary, the only heir listed on the paperwork.
And if that woman really wanted everything, then he was the biggest obstacle standing between her and the money.
Maybe he was thinking too far...but still, he didn't want his lust to ruin everything.. although that lust was too becoming too unbearable.
While he wrestled between reason and raw, aching desire, something unexpected caught his eye.
A book.
'A book of power.'
He almost laughed reading the name.
A book of power.
Seriously?
He picked it up anyway.
No reason other than just boredom, maybe.
The moment he opened it and skimmed the first page, he actually laughed.
At first, he thought it was going to be one of those calm-your-mind, free-your-soul kind of books.
Some guy rambling about discipline and inner peace, telling people how to live better lives
It had to be bullshit.
There were no superpowers, not that he wished otherwise.
If people actually had powers, the world would've burned down ages ago.
Still, curiosity won as he flipped to the main section.
He read the lines written in bold letters.
"Anyone who finds this book shall own it."
And just below that was the very first chapter of the book...
A word he was quite familiar with, a word that stirred the minds of many.
'Hypnosis.'
It wasn't the cheap stage-trick kind.
As he read further, he found out that it didn't explain things in a straightforward way.
It talked about indirect influence first—subtle hypnosis that relied entirely on mental strength. Focus. Willpower. The stronger the mind, the deeper
spoke about real influence, the kind that could seep into someone's mind, twist their thoughts, and plant ideas so deeply they'd believe them to be their own.
That part alone already sounded ridiculous, nevertheless he kept reading...as he reached the end of the page, he instinctively tried to turn the page.
It didn't move.
He frowned and tried again, pressing his thumb harder against the paper.
Nothing.
What the actual fuck...
The book was thick—he could see there were more pages.
Yet no matter how he tried, the next page refused to turn, as if it simply didn't exist.
Still, he kept trying. Again and again.
But right in front of him, the words on the page started to fade.
Before he could react, they vanished completely, and something else took their place...
Insufficient Conditions
{Access Denied}
"What the hell…?"
His eyes widened.
But that wasn't the end of it.
What happened next made him seriously doubt whether he was dreaming.
Because in the very next moment…
the book vanished from his hands.
.
.
.