Who Needs Your Father Anyway...

My smoking-hot stepmom Ashlyn was already bugged about the drink, asking where the fuck it was. I plop down to figure out what's up, doing my best to ignore her giant rack spilling from that tiny dress. She spills it all—Dad has bailed on her, doesn't touch her. I throw my old man under the bus, mention his string of ex-wives, the fucking train wreck he's left behind. She laughs. I keep laying it on thick and watch her cheeks flush. One second she's giggling, next she yanks those fat, natural tits right out, cupping them, teasing me. I reach in and grab two palmfuls, squeeze until the flesh spills between my fingers. They feel heavy. She doesn't pull away. I slide a finger under her dress, push past the fabric, sink right into a pussy that's squeezing like a vice. She sits there wet and clenching, then slides off the couch to her knees. Ashlyn swallows my cock, tongue rolling, spit dripping down my balls. I get her back up, straddle her between those tits, pumping between the slick warm globes. Her eyes flick up, mischievous as fuck. Ashlyn turns, plants her phat ass back, guides my dick straight between those slick lips. She's so damn tight, the walls gripping and coating my shaft as I bottom out. Sweat rolls down our backs. I grab that waist and slam into her doggy-style, hips snapping, her moans hitting new volume until she's cumming hard—shaking, gasping, more satisfied than my old man has ever managed. She pulls off, spins around, takes my load across her cheeks and tongue. "Our secret," she says, licking her lip, tasting me.