Story Excerpt

My mom caught me with my face buried in her panties, and she didn’t stop me.

I thought I was alone. The laundry basket told a story I couldn’t resist: lace soaked through with her scent, clinging with heat, daring me to inhale deeper. I wasn’t supposed to be there. And she definitely wasn’t supposed to watch.

But when my mom caught me red-handed, jeans down, nose full of her, she didn’t scold me. She told me to keep going.

Now I’m hers to tease, to train, to ruin. She’s curvy, irresistable, and filthy as hell. Her rules are twisted. Her body is addictive. And I’m already too far gone.

If she tells me to sniff, I sniff.
If she tells me to beg, I beg.
If she tells me not to spill until she says so… God help me, I try.