Mag-log in(Beverley’s POV)I woke up slowly the next morning, my body still humming with leftover arousal from the night before. The memories hit me the second I opened my eyes: Marcus’s strong hands on my body, his mouth claiming mine with raw hunger, the way his thick fingers had curled deep inside me in the kitchen while Mom was upstairs. My pussy throbbed at the recollection, still slightly sensitive and slick. I pressed my thighs together under the sheets, trying to ease the ache, but it only made it worse.My phone was lying on the nightstand. I grabbed it with shaky fingers and unlocked the screen. There it was, a message from Marcus sent late last night.Marcus: Come downstairs. Kitchen. Now. Your mom is in the bath.I had fallen asleep before seeing it. My stomach twisted with a sharp mix of regret and fresh, electric excitement. I wondered what would have happened if I’d gone down. Would he have finally taken me right there on the counter?The house was strangely quiet. No sounds from
(Marcus’s POV)The entire day had been pure fucking torture.Bianca was in full “newly in love teenager” mode, and it was driving me out of my goddamn mind. From the moment she woke up, she was all over me, kissing my neck while I tried to make coffee, pressing her full, soft breasts against my back, sliding her hands down my chest and abs like she couldn’t get enough of my body. During breakfast, she sat on my lap the entire time, feeding me bites of fruit and giggling at nothing, her ass grinding subtly but deliberately against my cock every time she shifted. She barely let me out of her sight for more than a few minutes. Every single time I reached for my phone, she’d lean over with that sweet but possessive smile and ask, “Who are you texting, babe?” or “Is everything okay? You seem distracted today.”I had to play along perfectly. Smile warmly. Kiss her back. Act like the devoted, attentive boyfriend she believed I was. But all I could think about was Beverley.Her tight, drippi
(Beverley’s POV)The next morning arrived too slowly, each minute dragging like it was deliberately torturing me.I barely slept again. Every time I closed my eyes, vivid, filthy memories flooded my mind without mercy: Marcus’s strong hands roaming possessively over my body, his mouth claiming mine with raw, demanding hunger, the thick, pulsing heat of his cock in my hand as I stroked him, and the salty, addictive taste of him on my tongue as I swallowed every drop he gave me in the kitchen. My body was restless, aching, and painfully frustrated. My pussy throbbed with a constant, low-level need that no amount of tossing and turning or pressing my thighs together could ease. I wanted him so badly it actually scared me, scared me how quickly I’d gone from guilty, secret fantasies to actively craving the man who was sleeping with my mother every night.But today was different. Worse.Mom was in one of her clingy, affectionate moods, the kind where she acted like a lovesick teenager who
(Marcus’s POV)I was losing my fucking mind.After Beverley had stroked me through my sweatpants in the kitchen while her mom was just down the hall, I could barely think straight for the rest of the evening. Her small, soft hand wrapped around my cock, even through the fabric, had felt better than most of the pussy I’d had in recent months. She’d been hesitant at first, almost shy, but the way she squeezed me, the way her fingers explored my length while I fingered her dripping cunt… it was clear she wanted this just as badly as I did. Maybe more.Bianca had gone to bed early that night, exhausted from her long day. She kissed me goodnight sweetly and was fast asleep within minutes, curled up under the covers in our bed, completely unaware that I was lying right beside her, rock hard and already texting her daughter.Marcus: Come downstairs. Kitchen. Now.I waited in the dark kitchen, heart pounding with dark anticipation, my cock straining painfully against my sweatpants. A few minu
(Beverley’s POV)I couldn’t believe what I had just done.My legs were still shaky as I tried to act normal in front of Mom, who had come downstairs right after Marcus made me cum again in the kitchen. My pussy was still throbbing with aftershocks, my tiny shorts completely soaked, and my mind was a complete, chaotic mess. Every time I glanced at Marcus across the room, vivid memories flooded back, his thick fingers buried deep inside me, curling perfectly against that spot that made me see stars, his low, filthy voice whispering dirty praises while my mom was just upstairs in the shower.I spent the rest of the afternoon hiding in my room, curled up on my bed with my knees drawn to my chest. I tried to process everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, but it was impossible. My body wouldn’t let me forget. Every shift of my thighs reminded me how wet I still was. How much I wanted more. How desperately I kept thinking about him, specifically about how hard he had fel
Marcus’s POV)I slipped out of Beverley’s room just in time, my cock throbbing painfully in my sweatpants like it had a mind of its own. My fingers were still slick and shiny with her juices. I brought them to my mouth again as I walked down the hallway, sucking her taste off them slowly, savoring every drop like a man starved. She was so fucking sweet, warm, tangy, and addictive. Wetter and tighter than I had ever imagined. The memory of her pussy clenching around my fingers made my cock twitch hard.Jesus Christ. That girl was going to be the death of me.I adjusted my obvious erection, pulling at the waistband of my sweatpants to give myself some relief, and headed back downstairs just as I heard the shower turn off in the master bathroom. Perfect timing. Bianca was still in there getting ready. I had a few precious minutes to let the fire settle… or stoke it even higher.My mind was reeling from what had just happened upstairs. The way Beverley had buried her face in my shoulder t
(Beverley’s POV)I stayed in my room for the rest of the evening, curled up on my bed with my knees pulled tight to my chest like I was trying to disappear into myself. The slap from Mom still stung on my cheek, a hot, throbbing reminder every time I touched it, but it was nothing compared to the d
(Marcus’s POV)I was in the bedroom when Bianca stormed in later, her face flushed with anger and hurt. She closed the door behind her a little too hard, the slam echoing through the room, and leaned against it, breathing heavily like she’d just run a marathon. Her robe was slightly disheveled, ha
(Beverley’s POV)I barely slept that night. The conversation with Mom kept replaying in my head on an endless loop, like a broken record I couldn’t turn off no matter how hard I tried. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her hopeful face from earlier in the evening, that soft, almost apologetic expr
Marcus's POV I was lying on the bed scrolling through my phone when Bianca walked into the bedroom, looking stressed. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows across the room. Bianca closed the door behind her and let out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. Her shoulders slumped, hair messy fr







