Chapter 161 Ride Me, Son
Ride Me, Son
"Last chance," Jake said, his hands on my hips. "You can still back out."
Instead of responding, I lined him up at my entrance and sank down slowly.
The stretch was immediate and intense—I was wet enough that he slid in easily, but his size made me feel every inch. When I was fully seated, we both groaned.
"Fuck," he gasped. "You feel incredible. So tight. So warm."
"You're big," I managed. "Bigger than—" I stopped myself.
"Bigger than my dad?" he finished with a dark smile. "I know. I can tell you're not used to this."
I started to move, slow rolls of my hips, getting used to his size. His hands guided me, helping me find the rhythm, and soon I was bouncing on him with increasing confidence.
"That's it," he encouraged, his eyes locked on where we were joined. "Ride me. Use my cock. Take what you need."
I braced my hands on his chest and rode him harder, chasing pleasure I'd been denied for so long. When his hand slid between us to find my clit, I nearly screamed.
"Don't hold back," he said, rubbing circles that had me climbing fast. "My dad's not here. You can be as loud as you want. Let me hear you."
I let myself go, moaning without restraint, and when my orgasm hit, I cried out his name—not Richard's, but Jake's—and the wrongness of it only made it more intense.
He didn't let me stop. Just flipped us so I was on my back and he was above me, driving into me with powerful thrusts that had the headboard slamming against the wall.
"Is this what you needed?" he grunted, fucking me hard. "Needed someone who actually wants you? Who can actually make you cum?"
"Yes," I sobbed. "God, yes. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
He gave me everything I'd been craving—rough hands, hard thrusts, dirty words, actual attention to my pleasure. When he hooked my legs over his shoulders and changed the angle, I came again, my third orgasm more intense than the previous two.
"Where?" he gasped, his rhythm faltering. "Where can I—"
"Anywhere," I breathed. "Just—cum for me—"
He pulled out and ripped off the condom, and I watched as he stroked himself twice before cumming across my stomach and breasts, marking me with hot ropes of his release.
We collapsed together, both gasping for air, reality slowly creeping back in.
I'd just fucked my stepson.
In my marital bed.
While my husband was at work.
And I didn't feel guilty. I felt alive.
"That was—" Jake started.
"A one-time thing," I finished quickly. "This can't happen again. We got it out of our systems. Now we go back to normal."
He looked at me with an expression that was far too knowing for nineteen. "Sure, Vanessa. Whatever you need to tell yourself."
He cleaned up in my bathroom and dressed, and I lay there in sheets that smelled like sex and poor decisions, wondering how I was supposed to look Richard in the face when he got home.
Wondering how I was supposed to pretend I didn't want Jake's hands on me again.
Wondering how long "just this once" would last before I broke.