Strict Mummy, Filthy Boy: 2

Welfare Check and Wet Sheets🫦💦😜

“Ms. Harlan? We know you’re home. Please open the door. This is mandatory.”

I yanked my robe closed with shaking hands. Jax’s cum was still sliding down my thighs. The bedroom reeked of sex. He sat on the edge of the bed, completely unbothered, watching me like this was entertainment.

“Go,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay up here. For now.”

I hurried down the stairs, heart hammering. I flipped on the porch light and opened the front door just enough to see two people, a woman in her forties with a clipboard and a younger man in a state-issued jacket.

“Ms. Harlan?” the woman asked. “I’m Ms. Rivera from Child Protective Services. This is my colleague, Mr. Thompson. We received an anonymous tip about a possible welfare concern regarding Jax. May we come in?”

Anonymous tip. My stomach dropped. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“We understand the hour is unusual, but late-night checks are sometimes necessary. Is Jax home?”

“He’s upstairs. Asleep.” The lie tasted thin. “Everything is fine. He’s been following the rules.”

Ms. Rivera’s eyes flicked past me into the hallway. “We’ll still need to speak with him briefly and do a quick walk-through of the home. It’s standard.”

I stepped aside because I had no choice. They wiped their feet and entered. I kept the robe tightly closed and prayed they couldn’t smell what had just happened upstairs.

“Jax!” I called up the stairs, forcing my voice steady. “Come down please. Social Services is here.”

Footsteps. Jax appeared at the top of the stairs in sweatpants and a wrinkled T-shirt, hair messy, looking every bit the sleepy teenager. He came down slowly, nodding at the workers.

“Evening,” he said, voice polite and flat.

Ms. Rivera smiled professionally. “Jax, we just need to ask a few questions. How are things going here with Ms. Harlan?”

“Fine.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “She runs a tight ship. Rules, curfews, the whole thing. I’m staying out of trouble.”

Mr. Thompson glanced around the living room. “Any issues with discipline? Arguments? Anything we should know about?”

Jax’s eyes flicked to me for half a second. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

They asked about school, about his previous record, about whether he felt safe. Jax answered every question like he’d rehearsed it. I stood there with his cum drying on my skin under the robe, nodding at the right moments.

After ten minutes Ms. Rivera closed her clipboard. “We’d like a quick look at the bedrooms and common areas, then we’ll be out of your hair.”

I led them through the kitchen, the living room, the laundry. When we reached the upstairs hallway I felt Jax’s presence right behind me. Ms. Rivera opened his bedroom door. The lamp was off now. The bed was roughly made. The smell of sex had mostly faded, or maybe I was the only one who could still catch it.

She nodded. “Everything looks in order. Thank you both for your cooperation. We’ll file the report as no immediate concerns, but another check may follow if further tips come in.”

They left. The front door clicked shut. The porch light went dark.

I leaned against it, exhaling hard.

Jax’s voice came from right behind me. “Anonymous tip. Someone’s watching the house.”

I turned. He was already closing the distance. “We got lucky.”

“Luck runs out.” He tugged the belt of my robe loose. The fabric fell open. His eyes dropped to the sticky shine still on my inner thighs. “You’re a mess, Mummy.”

“Jax…”

He dropped to his knees right there in the entryway, shoved my thighs apart, and put his mouth on me. Tongue flat, licking through the mixture of my wetness and his cum. I gasped and grabbed the doorframe.

“Someone could still be outside,” I whispered.

“Then they’ll get a show.” He sucked on my clit, two fingers pushing inside me, curling against the spot that made my knees weak. “You stayed so polite for them. Acted like the perfect strict guardian. Meanwhile this pussy was still full of me.”

I came fast, biting my lip to stay quiet, thighs trembling around his head. He stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and spun me around so my chest pressed against the front door.

“Hands on the door,” he ordered.

I braced myself. He shoved the robe up over my hips, freed his cock, and thrust into me in one hard stroke. I cried out. He clapped a hand over my mouth and fucked me without mercy, deep, rough, the door rattling under every thrust.

“This is what happens after you lie to Social Services for me,” he growled against my ear. “You get used like the filthy mummy you are.”

I pushed back to meet him, already climbing again. He reached around and rubbed my clit in tight, mean circles. The second orgasm hit harder than the first. I moaned into his palm, clenching around him. He followed right after, burying himself deep and flooding me all over again.

We stayed locked together, breathing hard. His forehead rested against the back of my neck.

“They’re going to come back,” I said quietly. “Someone made that tip for a reason.”

Jax pulled out slowly. Cum leaked down my thighs onto the entryway floor. He turned me around, kissed me once, slow and claiming, then spoke against my mouth.

“Then we give them nothing to find. Or we make sure whoever called regrets it.”

My phone buzzed on the entry table.

I picked it up. One new message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Cute performance for the social workers. The robe almost covered the marks I left on your neck. Next time leave the bedroom curtains open. I want clearer video. Or the next tip includes photos.

Attached was a dark but unmistakable photo. Me against Jax’s bedroom wall. His hand over my mouth. My leg around his waist. Time-stamped forty minutes ago.

Jax stared at the screen over my shoulder. His jaw flexed.

“Someone’s been outside the window the whole time,” he said, voice low and cold.

Another message came in before either of us could speak.

Unknown: Same time tomorrow night. Leave the back door unlocked. I want a closer look at how strict Mummy really is. Or the photos go straight to Ms. Rivera’s email and the judge who placed me here.

I looked at Jax.

He looked at the dark living-room windows.

Then he locked the front door, took my phone, and deleted the messages with steady hands.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “We set a trap. And this time I’m not the one who gets caught.”

Outside, a car engine started somewhere down the street and faded into the night.

Inside, Jax’s cum was still running down my legs, the taste of him still on my tongue, and the house that was supposed to be safe suddenly felt like it had eyes in every shadow.