﻿Using Ursula

by Pan



Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2024-02-16 23:11:22
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,647
Publisher: mcstories.com
Story URL: https://mcstories.com/UsingUrsula/index.html
Author URL: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Pan.html
Summary: There’s only one way to stop Dion from using his step-sister Ursula.
Erotica Tags: mc, md, mf





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3



	Chapter 1

I glanced over at my daughter. Surely she’d seen it. Surely she’d seen Dion’s hand.

He hadn’t been subtle about it.

We were sitting in the family room, watching a film, when my step-son had moved one hand onto my thigh.

Nope. Ursula continued to watch the television as the CGI heroes smashed the CGI bad guys. It was the climax of the movie—maybe that’s why Dion had felt that he could feel up his own step-mother without attracting attention.

For my part, I’d simply frozen. I knew that I should say something, do something, but…part of me felt that if I did, it would draw focus to what he was doing.

I didn’t want Ursula to see her own mother being felt up like a piece of meat. What kind of example would that be setting?

And so I just sat there in silence for the rest of the film, Dion’s hand resting on my thigh. Occasionally his pointer finger would stroke my skin slightly, sending tingles up my spine.

As soon as the movie was over, I got up, shaking my step-son’s hand off as I did.

“Well!” I said brightly. “That was an adventure, wasn’t it?”

My two kids stared at me like I was an idiot. Truth be told, I couldn’t tell you a single thing that had happened in the last portion of the film—my eyes had been watching the screen, but my mind had been entirely focused on Dion’s hand, on its movements and what it meant.

_I’ll have to talk to his father,_ I told myself, knowing that I wouldn’t. How do you tell your husband that his son decided to feel you up halfway through an action movie?

* * *

It happened again the next morning at breakfast. Ever since Ronald and I got married, we’ve made a point of having a big family breakfast—to show the kids that we’re not just two parents who got together, that we’re a _family_.

My husband was at the stovetop, flipping blueberry pancakes. Ursula was sitting across from us, talking about some school trip she had coming up, and Dion was sitting directly next to me, slowly munching on his breakfast.

As Ursula began going into the detail of some high-school drama, I jumped in my seat. Fortunately my daughter didn’t seem to notice, and just kept on talking.

Dion’s hand was on my thigh again, and I could feel myself going bright read.

“Dion…” I whispered under my breath, but I didn’t want to interrupt Ursula, or bring attention to the fact that anything strange was going on. What kind of a mother would that make me?

And so instead, I just continued to nod and smile as she went into detail about whatever had transpired between her and her ex second-best friend, as Dion’s fingers slowly stroked my leg.

Ursula’s story began to wind down, but I could feel his hand starting to move higher up my thigh, to the heat radiating out from between my legs...

“No…” I hissed, but at that same moment my husband dropped a pan, and the clattering sound drowned me out.

“And THEN she said that she’d tell Mr Stephenson!” Ursula finished triumphantly, and Dion took the opportunity to move one finger up to stroke the gusset of my panties.

“Oh my!” I exclaimed, and Ursula nodded fervently.

“Exactly!”

I stood up so quickly it caused a bottle of syrup to be knocked over, but I left the room so quickly that I don’t even know who cleaned up the mess.

My husband followed me into our bedroom a few minutes later.

“Honey?” he said, his brow creased. “Are you okay?”

I was anything BUT okay, but how could I explain that to Ronald? Dear, sweet Ronald—he’d never suspect anything of his son.

“I’m fine,” I gasped, but my husband wasn’t fooled that easily.

“You ran out of there like a spider bit you,” he said, and I could tell that I wasn’t getting away without an explanation.

Unless...

“Come here,” I whispered, and pulled his tie until his lips were against mine.

As I kneeled in front of my husband and took his hardness into my mouth, I tried to pretend that I wasn’t thinking of Dion’s hand on my thigh.

I did try, but as Ronald spurted into my mouth just a few minutes later, it wasn’t his face, his touch, his manhood I was thinking of…

“What got into you?” Ron asked with a grin, and I shot a shy smile back in response.

_Your son,_ I thought, before banishing the wicked thought from my mind. Dion’s perversion was contagious, it seemed.

“Nothing,” I said. “I guess I was just…in the mood.”

* * *

When Dion followed me into the bathroom that night, I knew it had gone too far.

“Dion…” I protested, but he just put one finger up, and I fell silent.

I watched as he closed and locked the bathroom door, and then turned the shower on.

“Dion…” I said in a whisper, but he just stepped forward, reached up my dress, and moved his hand to my thigh.

My breathing got faster and faster as he slowly traced patterns on my bare thigh. Finally, when he finally brushed against the wet spot on the front of my panties, I let out a soft moan.

He grabbed my hand and moved it to the front of his pants, and before I knew what was happening, my hand was tentatively stroking his hardness through his jeans, trying to grab the thick rod I could only feel the shape of.

When I thumbed what I knew to be the head, he let out a gasp, and a warm feeling rushed through my body.

His finger pushed more firmly into the fabric of my underwear, and I could feel him exploring my slit, causing electric sparks to race through me, totally shutting down my brain.

It was like I blacked out, or jumped forward in time—when I caught up with the world again, Dion’s fly was undone and his bare cock was in my hand. Had I done that, or had he?

Did it even matter?

Both my hands were hard at work now, desperately stroking and rubbing at my step-son’s thick cock. He wasn’t quite as long as his father, although he was substantially thicker. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have Dion inside me, stretching me out, filling me up, making me...

“Oh!” I gasped, as Dion pushed my panties aside and two of his fingers entered me. My back arched with pleasure, and I unwillingly clenched around his digits, aware that the action caused a fresh wave of my juices to dribble down his fingers.

In response Dion grinned, and withdrew his skilled fingers. I groaned again—this time in disappointment, and as my mouth opened with displeasure, Dion took the opportunity to slip his fingers inside.

I’d never tasted my own juices before, but I greedily began sucking and slurping at the tangy taste of my own cum, running my tongue around my step-son’s fingers, even as my own hands steadily pumped up and down his hardness.

Dion grunted again, and began to remove his fingers. Like a suckling baby, I didn’t want to let them go—it was as if I was in some kind of trance, and taking away the oral stimulation would snap me out of it.

It wasn’t until Dion’s other hand grabbed the back of my head that I realized I was at waist-height; he’d slowly moved his fingers down, and in my desperation to not stop sucking them, I’d bent almost in two.

Falling to my knees, I realized what Dion wanted. He firmly removed his fingers from my mouth, and to my horror, I found myself sucking on my step-son’s cock.

My pussy was pleading for attention, but my mouth and both hands were busy pleasuring Dion’s hard member. It wasn’t long before he was cumming in my mouth, just as his father had that morning.

Even as he grew soft, I continued to desperately suckle at Dion’s cock, my eyes tightly shut, totally avoiding thinking about what I was doing, about the cum that was even now moving down my throat and into my stomach.

Finally, he pulled me away, and zipped his fly back up. Pulling me to my feet, he straightened my dress, and opened the bathroom door.

Ursula was standing outside, a strange and confused look on her face.

“What were you two _doing_ in there?” she asked, head tilted to the side.

“Nothing!” I said, my head too dazed to come up with a convincing lie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were waiting.”

* * *

The next morning, before my husband or daughter were awake, I sneaked into Dion’s bedroom. I had to tell him that this—whatever it was—couldn’t keep on happening, couldn’t continue. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and it certainly wasn’t normal.

He was asleep when I came in, and so I knelt beside his bed. If anyone caught us together at this hour, I don’t know _what_ they would have thought.

“Dion!” I whispered. “Dion!…”

His eyes sleepily opened, and a smile appeared on his face when he saw me. Before I could say anything further, he’d reached out and pulled my mouth to his.

My hands flew up in shock, but for some reason I didn’t resist as his tongue slipped past my lips and began exploring my mouth. He didn’t seem to have even a hint of morning breath, and as he continued kissing me, one of his hands moved to my back and started tracing patterns on skin through my thin nightgown.

As soon as I found myself kissing him back, I realized how it must have looked. I’d slipped into his room in the clothes that I slept in—a pair of panties and a basically transparent night gown.

After the events of yesterday, he must have thought I was coming onto him.

I had every intention of pulling away and revealing the true intent of my visit, but as Dion playfully nipped at my lip, I found myself losing control of the situation.

Dion’s hand moved away from my head, and reached down to cup my breast. I moaned into the kiss as he tweaked my nipple, and I realized I was getting distracted from my mission.

Pulling away from the kiss, I began to tell Dion that we couldn’t do this any more…and that’s when I saw.

Ursula.

She must have been hidden under the cover when I entered, but Dion had shifted enough that I could see her clearly. My daughter was sleeping beside Dion, wearing nothing but an orange pair of panties. She was curled up, facing away from us—it was a miracle that she hadn’t woken up and seen us; her own mother, being groped and fondled by her older brother.

What was she doing here?

Dion grinned at the sight of my eyes widening, and put one finger to his lips.

“No…” I said breathlessly, and he rolled over and began running his fingers up and down my daughter’s bare back, using the same patterns he’d been stroking me with just a few minutes earlier.

“Mmmmm…” she moaned, and I backed away, terrified that she’d roll over and find me there, barely dressed, nipples hard.

Dion’s hands moved down to her pert young ass, and she pushed against him, wriggling slightly as his touch.

It was obvious that she wasn’t completely awake, but she reached behind her and blindly explored with her hand until it found what she was looking for—his rod.

“Put it in me,” she mumbled sleepily. “I want to feel you inside me again.”

Again?

My mouth fell open in shock—I couldn’t believe that such words were coming out of my little girl’s mouth, and I especially couldn’t believe that they were being directed at her brother.

Dion seemed to have completely forgotten I was there—he curled up beside my daughter, and drew her close. As I watched, one arm wrapped around her and (I assumed, based on the moans that started coming from her mouth) began skillfully playing with her nipples.

In one smooth motion, he pulled her panties off and—without looking—threw them in my direction. They softly landed beside me, and he gently thrust forward, filling my daughter with his thick cock, the same one that over the past few days had been in my hand, in my mouth, and had never left my mind.

“No…” I gasped, and my darling daughter’s head began to turn towards me.

Before she could see anything, Dion put his hand over her eyes, and brought her mouth to his. I took advantage of her temporary blindness to flee, running out of the room as quietly as I could.

“Morning, sweetheart,” my Ronald said, sitting up in bed—before he could even question why I was out of breath, I practically tackled him. I forcefully pushed him back onto the bed, lowered his pajama pants, moved my panties to the side, and rode him to orgasm after orgasm.

After he came, I rolled off him, and lay beside him.

He could never know.

No one could ever know.

And I had to do something to save my daughter.


	Chapter 2

I left work early that afternoon.

Ursula had band practice on Thursdays, my husband works until five, and so I knew that it would just be Dion and I, alone in the house.

I’d be able to talk to him, mother to son.

“Dion,” I said, and my step-son looked up at me from the couch, lust in his eyes.

A part of me quivered, but I knew I had to stay strong.

For my daughter.

“Dion,” I repeated, but before I could get the rest of my sentence out, it was out.

His cock.

He’d unzipped his pants and pulled out his thickening erection.

I couldn’t look away.

“Dion,” I said. I’d been planning this conversation in my head all day. I was going to be firm. Authoritative. I was his _mother_ ; I was going to tell him exactly what to do, that his behavior wasn’t acceptable.

Instead, I realized, my voice was breathy. Soft.

Pliant.

“Dion,” I begged. I wanted to slap myself. I sounded like I was panting, like I was…horny. I sounded like I was begging to be touched.

He gestured to the couch beside him, and I couldn’t help myself. I sat down.

I wanted to look him in the eyes, to show him that I was in control, in command. I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t keep using my daughter like that; how inappropriate it was.

I’d planned to threaten him, warn him that I’d tell his father. Although even _I_ wasn’t sure if I could follow through on that. Ronald was so trusting, so kind—it would kill him, to discover what his son had done. What his son had become.

Ronald loved Ursula, and I knew it would break him if he learned what was happening under his own roof.

Besides, what if Dion told him what I’d done? Yes, my step-son had started it, but I should have ended it that first night on the couch.

The couch we were sitting on at that moment.

“Dion,” I said, in a final attempt to regain the upper hand. _I need to talk to you,_ I wanted to say. _I need to talk about what you’ve been doing. It’s wrong. You can’t._

_We can’t._

But as soon as I said his name, he grabbed my hand, and moved it to his cock.

The words died in my throat, and I watched in horror and arousal as my hand—my treacherous, perfectly-manicured hand—began stroking Dion’s thick cock, as though I’d done it a thousand times before.

As if that was what I’d been born to do.

Stroking his erection, I realized it was slightly sticky. Dion hadn’t showered since that morning.

He hadn’t showered since he’d taken my daughter.

I tried not to think about it. I wanted to shut my eyes and imagine I was touching Ronald, my loving husband—Dion’s son.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t look away.

As I stroked Dion’s cock, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Ursula—my dear, sweet Ursula—had taken this hard rod inside her, just a few hours ago. She was so tiny, and he was so huge…it boggled the mind.

“Dion,” I said once more. I barely recognized my own voice, it was so thick with lust. With want. With desire.

I suddenly realized; I was soaking wet.

_No._

Yes.

With a great amount of effort, I managed to shut my eyes. Before I knew what was happening, I could feel Dion’s muscular hands on the back of my head, pushing my head down to his crotch.

_No…_

Yes.

My eyes shot open as I realized what I was tasting. Thinly coating the outside of Dion’s cock was my daughter.

Ursula.

I was tasting my daughter’s juices.

_No,_ I thought again, but I couldn’t stop. It was like some kind of feeding frenzy.

The first time I’d fellated Dion, it had been calm. Sedate. Classy, even.

Now, it was like I was in heat.

I desperately licked and slurped at the teenage hardness, trying to get as much of it down my throat as I could. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I enthusiastically sucked my step-son’s cock.

Every now and again I’d let out a grunt, like a pig suckling at a sow. Soon, I was grunting non-stop as I managed to deep-throat the cocky teenage boy.

I’d licked away every last vestige of my daughter’s juices, but my tongue wouldn’t stop exploring his skin, trying desperately to find any more traces of her.

Ursula.

I wanted to stop. I wanted to stop, to pull back and tell Dion that what we were doing was wrong. That he had to stop doing this to me, to my daughter.

Instead, I vigorously bobbed my head up and down his cock until I could feel him shooting down my throat.

When Dion came, it was as though his hold on me completely disappeared. I swallowed his seed, then staggered back.

“Dion,” I rasped, one last time, but he just smiled in response.

I could feel myself throbbing; my pussy. My tits. I felt like my face was on fire.

“Later,” I said, then turned and fled the room.

I needed to clear my head. I needed to get off, so I could think.

I needed to get off.

* * *

After cumming around my hand twice, I felt much calmer. It was obvious what I needed to do.

Dion had somehow managed to seduce my daughter. She was young, susceptible to attention from an older man.

I needed to save her.

It was clear that talking to Dion wasn’t going to work. His draw, his pull over me—it was too strong to fight. I was too weak; if I confronted him, I knew that I’d give in to his advances, again and again.

I moaned at the thought.

No, I wasn’t going to be able to intimidate him into stopping. I’d have to be smarter than that.

I’d have to _exhaust_ him.

Dion was a man. A teenager, yes, but still a man. And men have limits.

If I was able to keep him completely sexually satisfied, there was no way he’d be able to do anything with my daughter.

I could never cheat on my darling Ronald, but I know my talents. If I went down on him two, three times a day…even a teenager wouldn’t have anything left.

If I blew Dion as often as I could, he wouldn’t have the stamina to do anything to keep using Ursula for his own satisfaction.

It was the only way.

* * *

That night, I checked to make sure Ursula was in her _own_ bed before I made my way into Dion’s bedroom, locking the door behind me.

Ronald had been uncomfortable with the idea of putting locks on our children’s bedrooms, but I’d insisted. I’d never had any privacy as a child, and I’d wanted to make sure my daughter didn’t grow up that way.

I was suddenly very glad that I had.

Dion didn’t say anything as I approached the bed; he just smiled.

On one hand, I wanted to wipe that arrogant smile off his face. He was using my daughter—my sweet, innocent teenage daughter—to get off. How dare he.

How _dare_ he.

On the other hand, that smile sent a chill through my body that I couldn’t explain. I shivered with pleasure at the sight of it, before dropping to my knees beside his bed.

Again, he pulled my mouth to his, forcing his tongue deep into my throat, taking my mouth as though it belonged to him.

As though _I_ belonged to him.

I melted into the kiss, allowing his hands to explore my body. His rough hands reached up underneath my nightshirt, grabbing my tits, twisting my nipples. I wanted to cry out with pain, but I knew I couldn’t risk anyone knocking at the door, wondering why I was missing and our son’s bedroom door was locked.

And so I just closed my eyes and accepted the pain.

As Dion reached between my legs, I remembered why I was there. It was not for my pleasure…not, of course, that I was going to get any pleasure from this. This was for my daughter.

This was for Ursula.

I moved his hand away, and climbed up on the bed.

Dion smiled at me—again, causing a wave of lust to roll through my entire body—and I realized he thought I was going to climb on top of him.

Images of Dion’s smile as I rode him flashed through my mind, but I couldn’t do that. Not to Ronald. Not to my husband.

Not with his son.

I shot him a seductive smile, and slithered down his body, until my head was level with his monstrous cock. It looked like it was straining to get out of his briefs.

“Please,” I whispered. “Let me do this for you.”

Dion didn’t respond, but I knew he wanted it. His eyes bore into mine as I unleashed his huge erection. I wanted to keep staring at his face, watching his reaction to my slutty actions, but I couldn’t resist glancing down at his cock…and then, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it.

I’d felt like I was in a haze for our previous few encounters, like I was on a runaway roller-coaster. I’d felt totally out of control.

This, tonight: I felt like I was the one in power.

I was doing this, me. Not for him not for me.

For Ursula.

Pride filled my body as I reflected on what a good mother I was being. This was the right thing to do.

It was the right thing to do.

My mouth was watering, in preparation for taking Dion’s length inside. I stuck my tongue out, and as I began to lick his cock, my eyes widened.

No.

_No._

Earlier that day, when I’d gone down on my step-son, I’d licked him completely clean.

And yet, I could taste it. On the skin of Dion’s cock—the unmistakeable taste of my daughter’s juices.

_No._ Not again.

Since Ursula gotten home, Dion had again taken her.

How?

He was hard as a man who hadn’t been laid in a week, but the evidence was there. He’d taken my daughter that morning, I’d blown him in the afternoon, he’d taken her _again_ since then…and still he was sporting an erection hard enough to cut glass.

This was going to be more difficult than I thought.

_Still,_ I thought as I took Dion’s cock into my mouth, _I’m nothing if not a hard worker._

As my step-son’s erection hit the back of my throat, it was tempting to reach between my legs and play with myself. I’d just gotten off a few hours ago, but…god, there was just something about Dion. His smile, his arrogance, his dick.

I knew I was dripping wet.

Mustering up all the self-control I could manage, I resisted. I focused all my efforts on Dion—he’d already gotten off (at least) three times that day, so I was expecting it to take a while. If I was going to wear him out, however, I had to get used to this.

My mouth, my jaw, my neck—they were all going to get tired, but with practice, I knew I’d build up enough stamina to do what needed to be done for Ursula.

_For Ursula_.

To my great surprise, it was less than five minutes before Dion grunted, and started shooting his load down my throat. I swallowed it hungrily—more hungrily than I wanted to admit—and once he was done, pulled back.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

Dion just nodded in response. He looked like he was ready to fall asleep, but we weren’t done yet.

“Again,” I whispered, and his eyes widened slightly with surprise before he shot me that leg-weakening arrogant smile of his.

Without saying a word, he reached between my legs. I wanted to slap his hand away, to remind him that I was his _mother_ and that he would treat me with respect…but somehow, with his cum still making its way to my stomach, I didn’t feel like my words would carry much weight.

Besides, if this was what he needed to get turned on again, I had to let it happen.

I had to get him hard, and get him off. I had to, again and again and again.

For my daughter.

For Ursula.


	Chapter 3

My alarm woke me up early the next morning.

I left the bed stealthily, making sure not to wake Ronald. He was sleeping as soundly as a rock—after I’d returned from his son’s room the previous night, I’d worn him out, riding him to orgasm after orgasm.

My dear, sweet Ronald.

A part of me definitely felt guilty for what I was doing to my loving, supportive husband…but I reminded myself that I wasn’t doing it for me. I was doing it for our family.

For Ursula.

To protect her.

But as I slowly opened the door to Dion’s room, I realized that I wasn’t the only one who’d thought to get up early that morning.

Dion was sitting on his bed, his legs spread, that arrogant look on his face as he watched me enter the room.

And kneeling in front of him on the floor was my daughter, Ursula.

She was wearing flannel pajamas, the type that she’d loved since she was a little girl. And while I couldn’t be sure from the angle I was standing, it looked like the top was unbuttoned.

My daughter had one hand between her legs, the other wrapped around Dion’s sizable cock. Though I was unable to see her face, I would have bet my life that she had a look of adoration on it as she stared up at him, her tiny hand slowly pumping up and down his huge member.

Dion continued to stare at me as Ursula’s head moved forward. Her long hair prevented me from seeing exactly what was happening, but the noises quickly made it obvious.

I wanted to cry out, to tell her to stop. This was my moment—I was fully dressed, and could pretend to have caught them organically.

But I said nothing.

I wanted to leave, to shield my eyes, to turn away.

But I didn’t.

I would have given anything to avoid seeing my darling daughter give head, but for the next few minutes I was helpless. I stood there, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch Ursula give Dion one of the most enthusiastic blowjobs I’d ever seen.

And as I did, his eyes never left my face.

My step-son watched me watch Ursula, until his hips began to buck and he grunted, shooting his seed down my daughter’s throat.

To my horror, Ursula’s orgasm soon followed—her other hand moved to her exposed breast as she fell backwards onto the floor, cumming around her fingers, grabbing at her tit like she was in heat, her step-brother’s seed making its way to her belly.

This was my nightmare. I’d thought that watching Ursula get fucked was the worst thing I could ever, ever see…but this was somehow worse.

Two teenagers having sex, that’s not exactly headline news. It was wrong, of course—everything about this situation was wrong. But I remembered the hormones, the desires of youth.

Dion was a monster, of course, but he was a very attractive monster. Giving into their urges the way they had…on a sick, primal level, that made sense.

But this?

Ursula had gotten off just from giving her step-brother head. He’d _used_ her, and she’d all but thanked him for the privilege.

I’d tried so hard to raise my daughter with self-respect, with self-confidence. To see her blow her brother, and then get off just from making him cum…

It made me sick.

And god help me, it turned me on.

Dion’s eyes moved from my face to my daughter’s, and all of a sudden, I felt like I could breathe again. Like I could move.

I could have fled, as I did the previous morning. But I was standing right beside Dion’s closet, and so I slipped inside and closed it with a soft ‘click’.

The slats in the door allowed me to see what was going on. Almost as soon as Dion’s attention shifted to my daughter, her eyes opened, and she was smiling at him.

“Wow,” she said, a bashful tone in her voice. “God, that was amazing.”

Dion didn’t say anything in response, just smiled down at her. I shifted in discomfort—his attitude was truly disgusting—and was annoyed to discover that his arrogance had turned my nipples as hard as rocks.

“I have band practice tonight,” she said dreamily (Ursula is a percussionist in the school band), before standing up and beginning to rebutton her pajamas. “But I’ll sneak in after everyone goes to bed, okay?”

Dion just grinned, a small response that evoked a peal of laughter from my daughter. She did up her final button, and straddled her step-brother, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him passionately on the lips.

In response, he grabbed her butt with both his hands, and kissed her back. A wave of pleasure passed through my body as I remembered what that had felt like—the total dominance, the feeling of _ownership_. Ursula melted into the kiss exactly as I had; her eyes looked hazy as she pulled back, before staggering out of the room.

Before I could collect myself, Dion had locked his door and opened the closet.

“Dion—…” I began, but he didn’t let me get more than one word out before pulling me against him. Just as he had a few seconds ago with my daughter, his mouth took mine.

I was wearing pair of pajamas, not unlike my daughters—without saying a thing, he ripped my pajama top open, sending buttons flying everywhere.

_I’ll have to pick those up while the kids are at school,_ I hazily told myself, before Dion’s mouth moved to my exposed breasts, and I lost the ability to form words at all.

Until I had Ursula, I’d always loved having my breasts sucked. After two and half years of breastfeeding, I’d found it too strange to revisit in a sexual context. Ronald had completely understood when I’d told him, and so it had been more than eighteen years since I’d felt any mouth other than my daughter’s on my nipples.

Despite his youth, Dion clearly knew what he was doing—as his mouth made love to my breasts, switching from one to another, I completely lost track of time. When he pulled back, that arrogant look on his face, it could have been ten hours later.

Sense slowly returned to my dazed mind, and I realized what I must look like. My mouth was hanging open, my skin was flushed, my nipples were a deep red, and I was breathing heavily.

“On the bed,” I instructed softly, remembering why I was here.

For Ursula.

To my great relief, Dion obeyed, sitting on the bed and spreading his legs. He was hard again—in fact, I couldn’t even remember seeing him soften after Ursula’s earlier administrations.

I dropped to my knees, blushing harder when I realized that I was in the exact position my daughter had just been in.

As if he could read my mind, Dion’s grin widened. He leaned back—gone was the dominant, possessive boy who had pulled me out of the closet.

Now, he wanted me to do the work.

Just as my daughter had.

I wish I could say that I wasn’t turned on as I leaned forward and took the head of his cock in my mouth. I wish that this had been entirely an act of duty, an effort to save my daughter.

But watching Ursula’s tiny mouth wrapped around this enormous rod had been more erotic than I ever would have imagined. Combined with the performance that Dane’s mouth had just shown my exposed breasts, I was embarrassingly keen to return the favor.

As I took Dane’s member into my mouth, I couldn’t help but marvel at how hard it was. Despite having just seen it, I was struggling to believe that he’d just cum. When my lips got halfway down his hardness that I tasted a hint of semen that my daughter had missed, and I was forced to accept that it was true.

_I won’t miss a drop,_ I assured myself, wriggling uncomfortably when I realized I’d somehow entered into a sexual competition against my daughter.

When my lips met my step-sons pubic hair, he surprised me. Both my hands had been wrapped around the base of his cock—they’d shifted to make way for my mouth, and started gently playing with his balls.

Dion took one of my hands, and leaned forward to place it firmly between my legs. In response to my furrowed eyebrows, he just grinned, and I found myself gently stroking my pussy, playing with the thick bush between my legs.

As my head continued to bob up and down, my tongue massaged my step-son’s thick erection, and my hand brought me ever-closer to orgasm. I was so turned on, it took me a few minutes to realize—this was an exact repeat of the blowjob he’d just received.

The thought should have disgusted me, but ever since Dion’s cock had entered my mouth, I hadn’t been able to think straight, so the sick situation just served to fuel my lust. I couldn’t help but see myself the way he did—a slutty MILF, competing with her own daughter.

I was on my knees, sucking a cock that had just been in my daughter’s mouth, recreating the experience…and getting off as I did.

Just as I had the previous day, I lost what little self-control I had. I started slamming my head up and down, fucking Dion’s cock with my face. I had three fingers inside me, my other hand groping my full breast (probably the most obvious difference between my daughter’s body and mine), emitting grunting noises as I used every weapon in my arsenal to bring my stepson to orgasm.

I was nothing but a mouth for Dion to fuck. I was a set of tits, for him to suck on. I was a hot piece of ass. I was a wet, pliable step-mom for him to jerk off to.

I was there for him to use as he wanted.

As was Ursula.

It was this sick, perverse thought that tipped me over the edge—my orgasm seemed to trigger his own, and I’d just started cumming when I felt his cock tighten, and start pumping his seed into my mouth.

I fell back before he was done, and the last few strings landed on my exposed tits, as my own orgasm peaked.

I don’t know how long I lay there, my eyes closed. No wonder Ursula hadn’t heard me enter the closet—in that moment, Ronald could have come in and started shouting at me me and I probably wouldn’t have noticed.

A thousand thoughts and feelings were running through my head. Guilt, obviously—not about what I was doing (my actions were purely to save my daughter, after all) but about how much I’d enjoyed it. I was a happily married woman; I shouldn’t have been getting off while pleasuring another man.

And I certainly shouldn’t have been thinking about Ursula as I did.

_No,_ I told myself. _That was just a mental slip._ When you’re cumming, your mind goes to weird places. My daughter’s sudden presence in my coital thoughts didn’t mean anything. I’d just watched her give head, and then recreated the experience—it made total sense that she would be on my mind.

I briefly considered trying to think about my dear Ronald the next time I came, but I knew it wouldn’t work. I loved my husband—I truly did—but he’d never made me feel the way Dion did.

No one ever would.

Finally, I remembered what Ursula had said. She was planning on returning that night—I had until then to wear Dion out.

I had until then to suck him dry. It wouldn’t be easy, but I knew I could do it.

Opening my eyes, I was unsurprised to see Dion smirking at me.

“Again,” I said, and he didn’t object.

Fifteen minutes later, I realized that there might be a problem with my plan. The boy was seemingly insatiable—it seemed like he could go through the Dallas Cheerleaders and still want more—and we only had half an hour before he was due at school.

“Again,” I said, and he just smiled at me.

That time took longer, at least. Aside from the low-level arousal I always get from giving head (I’m a people pleaser!), my heat had all but dissipated. This was no longer an erotic adventure; this was a job that needed to be finished.

“Again,” I said, swallowing down his cum. Dion glanced at the clock.

I wanted to tell him that I was calling in sick to work. I wanted to insist that he stay home from school, tell him that I was his mother, and that I was going to blow him until we were both completely wiped.

But I didn’t.

I sat there silently as he stood, tucking his (still-hard) cock into his pants. I just watched as he got dressed.

And as he left the room, I stayed where I was: kneeling on the floor, Dion’s cum drying on my chest.

“Come straight home from school this afternoon,” I called out weakly. I have no idea if he heard me.

I don’t know it would matter if he did.


End file.
