Whoops! You're Not My Stepmom!

Queenie Sateen called Vanessa Sky over so the two of them could stretch out by the pool in nothing but string bikinis. Vanessa asked about Lucas, and Queenie said he’d be gone until dinner. She grabbed the lotion, spread it over Vanessa’s warm back and hips, then both women flopped onto their stomachs to bake. A minute later Queenie sat up with a laugh. “Figures,” she muttered, “I gotta pee the second I get comfortable.” She left for the house. Lucas came through the front door early, planning to catch his stepmom alone. He slid the patio door open, spotted the familiar shape lying face-down, and called out low, “Ready for your stepson’s big cock?” Vanessa jerked upright, eyes wide. Lucas froze when he realized his mistake; the secret was out. Queenie stepped back outside just in time to hear Vanessa ask straight out if she was fucking her stepson. Queenie’s face went red, but before she could deny it Vanessa smirked and offered a deal: silence for an invitation. Heat shimmered off the concrete while the three of them stripped away what little fabric remained. Lucas’s hands moved first—gripping, spreading, claiming—then mouths followed, tongues tangling with skin already slick from lotion and sun. He bent Queenie over the lounge, pushed inside her with one hard thrust while Vanessa knelt in front, sucking her nipples and sliding fingers between her own thighs. They switched positions without pause: Vanessa on her back with Lucas driving between her legs, Queenie straddling her face so Vanessa could taste both of them at once. Sweat rolled, breath rasped, the slap of skin on skin loud against the quiet water. Lucas pulled out only to paint both women’s bellies when he came, and they lay there glistening, spent and still half-tangled in each other’s limbs.