Before I could answer, she leaned over the center console, one hand braced on the back of my seat as she swung her body toward me. I knew the drill—reached down, hit the lever, and the passenger seat slid all the way back with a soft electric hum, giving us room.
Kara was on me in seconds, straddling my lap, knees sinking into the leather on either side of my hips. Her tight crop top rode up as she pressed against me, those full breasts pushing into my chest. I could feel the heat of her through her pants.
"Fuck, Kara—" I started, but she silenced me with a hard kiss, tongue sliding in, tasting like mint and the faint sweetness of whatever cocktail she'd had earlier.
My hands went straight to her ass, gripping through the thin fabric. She ground down on the bulge already straining my jeans, rolling her hips slow and deliberate.
I broke the kiss long enough to mutter, "Your mom's literally right inside the house."
Kara laughed against my mouth, low and dirty. "Exactly. Makes it hotter, doesn't it? Knowing she's waiting while I ride her daughter's boyfriend in the driveway?"
She reached between us, popped the button on my jeans, tugged the zipper down. I lifted my hips so she could yank them and my boxers down just enough to free my cock. It sprang up hard against my stomach.
"Wallet," I rasped.
She grinned, reached back into my pocket, pulled it out, and flipped it open. I took the foil packet, tore it with my teeth, rolled the condom on fast while she watched, biting her lip.
"Good boy," she whispered.
Then she was shoving her tight pants and panties down in one impatient motion, kicking them off one leg so she could straddle me properly. She rose up on her knees, took me in her hand, lined me up—and sank down in one slow, tight slide.
We both groaned. She was soaked, hot, gripping me like a fist.
"God, you feel so fucking big like this," she hissed, starting to move, rocking her hips in tight circles at first, then lifting and dropping harder. The car rocked gently with us.
I grabbed her crop top and shoved it up over her breasts—no bra tonight, just perfect, heavy tits bouncing as she rode me. I leaned in, sucked one nipple into my mouth, bit down lightly.
Kara gasped, fingers digging into my shoulders. "Harder—fuck, Ace, suck them harder."
I did, switching to the other, while my hands gripped her ass, helping her slam down faster. The windows were already fogging, the air thick with the scent of sex.
"You love this, don't you?" I growled against her skin. "Fucking me right under your mother's nose like a dirty little slut."
She moaned loud at that, clenching around me. "Yes—fuck yes. I'm your dirty little slut. Keep talking."
I thrust up to meet her, the slap of skin filling the car. "She's probably looking out the window right now, wondering what's taking so long. Seeing her perfect daughter bouncing on my cock."
Kara's rhythm stuttered—she was close. I reached between us, thumb finding her clit, rubbing fast circles.
"Cum for me, baby," I told her. "Cum all over my dick while we're parked in your own driveway."
That pushed her over. She buried her face in my neck to muffle the cry, body shaking, pussy pulsing hard around me as she came.
The feeling of her milking me sent me right after. I gripped her hips bruisingly tight and thrust up deep, groaning as I spilled into the condom, pulse after pulse.
We stayed like that for a few seconds, breathing hard. Then Kara lifted off me slowly, reached down, and carefully peeled the condom off my still-sensitive cock.
She held my gaze the whole time, brought it to her lips, and tipped the contents straight into her mouth. Thick white strands slid over her tongue. She swallowed deliberately, licked her lips clean, then gave the empty latex a little suck for the last drops.
"Fuck," I breathed, cock twitching hard again at the sight.
Kara smirked, eyes gleaming. "Slow down, cowboy. We'll be late." She leaned in, kissed me quick so I could taste myself faintly on her tongue. "Mom's waiting."
We scrambled to fix our clothes—me tucking myself back in and zipping up, her pulling her pants back on and smoothing her top down. Hair a little messy, lips swollen, both of us flushed.
She checked her reflection in the visor mirror, wiped a smudge of lipstick from my cheek with her thumb, then grinned.
"Ready now?"
I exhaled, half-laughing. "Yeah. Way more relaxed."
Kara popped her door open, cool night air rushing in. "Good. Come on."
We stepped out of the car together, the massive front doors of the house looming ahead, warm light spilling out like an invitation.
We stepped out of the car into the cool night air, the scent of fresh-cut grass and distant jasmine hitting me. My body was still buzzing from what we'd just done—heart racing, skin tingling, that post-orgasm high making everything feel a little sharper, a little more exciting. I couldn't help the grin tugging at my lips as Kara shut her door and came around to my side, slipping her hand into mine like it was the most natural thing.
She tugged me forward along the flagstone path leading to the massive double front doors—dark wood carved with intricate patterns, flanked by stone lions that probably cost more than my yearly rent. The house loomed even bigger up close, lights glowing from what seemed like every window, casting warm pools on the driveway.
We stopped at the top of the wide steps, right in front of those imposing doors. I exhaled slowly, trying to steady the mix of nerves and leftover adrenaline.
Kara glanced at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and gave me a soft, reassuring smile before lifting her hand to knock—three sharp, confident raps that echoed faintly.
The door opened almost immediately. A maid in a crisp black uniform with a white apron stood there—mid-forties, hair pulled into a neat bun. She bowed slightly at the waist. "Miss Kara. Welcome home."
"Thanks, Elena," Kara said, stepping inside and pulling me with her.
The foyer opened into a sprawling living room that felt more like a high-end lobby than a home. Soaring ceilings with crystal chandeliers dripping light, marble floors veined in gold, massive plush rugs anchoring clusters of leather sofas and antique side tables. A grand fireplace roared quietly on one wall, flanked by built-in bookshelves towering two stories high. Maids moved discreetly—one dusting a sculpture on a pedestal, another arranging fresh flowers in a vase the size of a small table, their movements silent and efficient. Everything screamed old money luxury, the kind that didn't need to shout.
My eyes drifted upward, drawn by movement on the second-floor railing that overlooked the entire space like a balcony in a theater.
There she was.
Ambly Delirus.
Long, rich brown hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, framing a face that was all sharp, elegant angles—high cheekbones, full lips painted deep red, and those piercing green eyes that seemed to cut right through you. She had to be in her late thirties, maybe forty, but she wore it like a weapon. Her body was pure curves: huge, heavy breasts straining against a silk blouse unbuttoned just one button too far, revealing a hint of black lace bra and deep cleavage. Wide hips hugged by a fitted pencil skirt that ended mid-thigh, showing off thick, toned thighs and long legs in sheer stockings. Total MILF perfection… confident, voluptuous, radiating that mature sensuality that made my throat go dry even after what Kara and I had just done in the car.
She crossed her arms under those incredible breasts, pushing them up further, and leaned slightly against the railing as she looked down at us.
"Mother," Kara called up, her voice light but respectful. "Hey."
Ambly's gaze shifted from her daughter to me, slow and appraising. "Is this the Ace you've been talking about?" Her voice was low, smooth, with that husky edge of someone who'd lived a lot and enjoyed most of it.
"Yes," Kara replied simply, squeezing my hand.
I took a step forward, trying to ignore how my pulse kicked up under that stare. "Hello, ma'am."
She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing as she studied me from head to toe. "Ace. That's your name?"
"Yes, ma'am. Aceston, technically."
Kara chimed in with a playful grin. "But they call him Ace because he's really good at gambling. Like, really good at it."
I let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. "I'm... not, really." Total lie. I was damn good—good enough to pay a few bills when rent was tight—but admitting that right now felt like handing her ammunition.
"Mm." Ambly's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile as she uncrossed her arms and started down the grand staircase. Each step was slow, heels clicking softly on marble, hips swaying in a way that made it impossible not to watch. The silk blouse shifted with her movements, fabric clinging to every curve, and I had to force my eyes up to her face by the time she reached the bottom.