Chapter 15: Creative Writing
My face is still burning hot as I come down the stairs, the scalding shower failing completely to wash away my shame. It's been a little over an hour since Mom jerked me off, and I still feel her hands on me, still taste her tongue in my mouth. The worst part? I can't stop thinking about how good it felt.
I freeze at the bottom of the stairs, my entire body going rigid as I catch sight of her.
Mom stands in the kitchen, adjusting something in her reflection from the microwave door. She's wearing a teal and white wrap dress that hugs every curve like it was painted on her body. A navy blazer with gold buttons adds an air of professionalism that's completely undermined by the plunging neckline of the dress beneath it. Her cleavage is abundant, practically spilling out, framed perfectly by the crisp lapels. Red-framed glasses perch on her nose, giving her a sexy librarian vibe that makes my mouth go dry.
She turns, catching me staring, and does a little twirl. "How do I look?"
My eyeballs are practically out of my head. "Stunning," I blurt out before I can stop myself.
I sigh heavily, realizing I just told her exactly what I actually thought. Fucking great self-control, Gabe.
Her smile shifts, turning from pleased to something wild and hungry. Those blue eyes widen behind her glasses, pupils dilating until they nearly swallow the irises.
"If you say things like that, I'll be forced to reward you," she purrs, approaching me with swaying hips.
My back hits the wall as I try to retreat, but I'm trapped. Mom reaches up, inserting her index fingers at the corners of her mouth, spreading her lips wide in an obscene display.
"How about it, baby?" she asks through her stretched lips. "Do you want to see if you can hit double-digit thrusts fucking Mommy's face before class? I'll swallow it all so there's no mess."
My stomach drops as heat rushes to my face. "Jesus Christ, Mom!" I push past her, desperate to put distance between us.