Best friend's Mom: Part 3

Elena didn’t wait for me to make the next move.

She reached down, hooked her fingers in the waistband of my sweatpants and boxers, and pushed them low enough to free my cock. The cool kitchen air hit the overheated skin and I hissed through my teeth. She wrapped her hand around me without hesitation, stroking once from base to tip, thumb sliding over the head where I was already leaking.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

Her mouth curved again.

I gripped her hips and lifted her onto the edge of the counter in one motion. She made a soft sound of surprise that turned into a quiet laugh. The shorts she wore were so thin I could feel the heat of her through the fabric when I stepped between her thighs. I tugged them down her legs along with her panties. She lifted her hips to help, and then she was bare from the waist down, legs spreading wider to make room for me.

The sight of her like that—tank top still on, dark hair coming loose, thighs open on her own kitchen counter—nearly undid me.

I dragged the head of my cock through her folds. She was soaked. Slick and hot and ready. Elena’s breath caught. Her hands braced behind her on the counter as I rubbed against her clit once, twice, coating myself.

“Do it,” she whispered.

I pushed in.

The first slide was slow and deep. She was tight, wet, perfect. A low groan left my throat as I sank all the way in until my hips pressed against hers. Elena’s head tipped back, mouth open on a silent gasp. Her fingers dug into the edge of the counter.

For a second we just stayed like that, joined, breathing hard in the quiet kitchen.

Upstairs, the house remained still. Jake’s door stayed closed. The only sounds were the low hum of the refrigerator and the soft, wet noise when I pulled back and thrust in again.

I started moving in steady strokes. Deep. Controlled. Every time I bottomed out she made a small, stifled sound that went straight to my cock. Her legs wrapped around my waist, heels pressing into the backs of my thighs, pulling me closer.

“Harder,” she breathed.

I gave her harder.

The counter creaked faintly under the force of it. I didn’t care. One of my hands slid under her tank top, palm covering her breast, thumb dragging over the tight nipple. She arched into the touch. The other hand gripped her hip hard enough to leave marks, holding her in place while I fucked her.

“You’re so wet,” I muttered against her neck. “Been thinking about this too?”

“Yes.” The word came out broken. “Longer than I should have.”

That admission made me thrust deeper. Elena bit down on her own lip to stay quiet, eyes half-lidded, watching me while I moved inside her. The kitchen lights were still on—soft under-cabinet glow that left nothing hidden. I could see every place we were joined, the way her body stretched around me, the slick shine on my cock every time I pulled back.

I reached between us and found her clit with my thumb, rubbing tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her whole body jerked. A sharper sound escaped her before she could stop it.

“Quiet,” I reminded her, though the risk only made my blood run hotter. “He’s right upstairs.”

She nodded frantically, forehead dropping to my shoulder. Her breath came in short, hot pants against my skin. I kept rubbing her clit while I fucked her, feeling the way she started to flutter and tighten around me.

“I’m close,” she whispered.

“Come on, then. Let me feel it.”

She came with a muffled cry against my neck, thighs clamping hard around my waist, cunt pulsing around my cock in strong, rhythmic waves. I had to grit my teeth and slow down just to keep from following her immediately. The way she squeezed me was almost too good.

I didn’t stop moving. I fucked her through it until the trembling eased and she was soft and pliant against me again. Then I pulled out, spun her around so she faced the counter, and pushed back into her from behind in one smooth thrust.

Elena gasped, hands bracing hard on the surface. The new angle let me go even deeper. I gripped her hips and drove into her in steady, powerful strokes that made her ass bounce against me. The wet sound of it filled the quiet kitchen. Filthy. Unmistakable if anyone had been awake to hear.

“Gonna come inside you,” I told her, voice rough.

She pushed back to meet every thrust. “Do it.”

That was all it took.

I buried myself to the hilt and came hard, groaning low against her shoulder as I spilled into her in thick pulses. She clenched around me again like she wanted every drop. For several long seconds I just stayed there, deep inside her, breathing hard, feeling the aftershocks roll through both of us.

Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.

We both froze.

Silence followed. No footsteps. No opening door. Just the house settling.

I let out a slow breath and carefully pulled out. Elena stayed leaning over the counter for a moment, dress still rucked up around her waist, my come already starting to slip down her inner thighs. The sight of it made something possessive and hungry twist in my chest.

She eventually straightened and turned to face me. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, eyes still dark with residual heat. She looked thoroughly fucked and completely unapologetic.

Without a word she reached for a kitchen towel, cleaned herself up with quick, practical motions, then stepped back into her shorts and panties. I fixed my own clothes, pulse still hammering.

Elena picked up the whiskey glass she had left earlier, drained what was left, and set it down with a soft click.

“Jake gets up around eight on weekends,” she said quietly. “You should be back on the couch before then.”

I nodded.

She stepped close one more time, rose onto her toes, and kissed me—slower this time, almost lingering. When she pulled back, her voice was soft against my mouth.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.”

Then she walked out of the kitchen toward the stairs, the faint scent of sex and whiskey trailing after her.

I stood alone in the dim light, the taste of her still on my tongue, the memory of how she felt around me already burned into my skin, and the clear knowledge that I was nowhere near done with my best friend’s mother.