I never thought happiness could shatter so completely in one afternoon.
Dad's affair exploded like a bomb in our living room. Mom—my stepmom, Clara—found the messages on his phone while he was in the shower. I was in my room when I heard the scream. Not anger. Just… pure heartbreak.
By the time I ran downstairs, Clara was on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, her perfect face streaked with mascara. She looked small for the first time since she'd married Dad. My stepsister, Vanessa, stood over her like a furious goddess—blonde hair wild, green eyes blazing, fists clenched so tight her knuckles went white.
"He's been fucking his secretary for eight months," Vanessa spat. "Eight. Months."
Dad tried to explain. Tried to beg. Clara didn't even look at him. She just whispered, "Get out."
Two days later, the divorce papers were signed.
That night, Clara sat on my bed, still in her silk robe, smelling like vanilla and crushed roses.
"Sweetheart," she said, voice trembling, "Vanessa and I… we're leaving. We've got a villa in Belle Meade—Nashville. New start. You're eighteen now. You don't have to come… but we want you. We can take care of you. You'll never have to see him again."
Vanessa leaned in the doorway, arms crossed under her full breasts, watching me with those intense eyes. "You're family, little brother. Real family."
I hated Dad. Hated how he'd broken them.
"I'm coming with you."
The villa was obscene levels of luxury—marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, a pool that glowed turquoise at night. Three wings. My bedroom had a balcony overlooking the hills.
For the first month, it was paradise.
Clara cooked breakfast in tiny satin shorts and oversized sweaters that slipped off one shoulder, revealing the lace of her bra. Vanessa sunbathed topless when she thought I wasn't looking—her breasts heavy and perfect, nipples pink against tanned skin. They treated me like gold. Hugs that lasted too long. Kisses on the cheek that brushed the corner of my mouth.
I tried to be good. I really did.
But I was eighteen. And they were… unreal.
Clara: 38, brunette, hourglass figure, soft full lips always painted red. Vanessa: 26, blonde, long legs, an ass that made yoga pants look illegal.
We were a family. A broken, beautiful, dangerously close family.
It started with a thunderstorm.
Power went out at 2 a.m. I woke up to Clara slipping into my bed, trembling.
"I hate storms," she whispered, curling against me. "Your father used to hold me… I just… can I stay?"
She was wearing a thin silk nightie. No bra. Her nipples pressed against my chest through the fabric. Her thigh slid over mine.
I was rock-hard in seconds.
She felt it. I know she did. Her breath hitched. But she didn't move away.
"Thank you, baby," she murmured, lips brushing my neck. "You're such a good boy."
I didn't sleep. I laid there with my stepmom's perfect body draped over me, her ass nestled against my cock, and I burned.
Two weeks later. 104 degrees. Vanessa decided we needed to "cool off."
She walked out in a white bikini so tiny it was basically string. Her breasts spilled out the sides. The fabric went sheer when wet.
Clara joined us in a black one-piece that hugged every curve, the neckline plunging so deep I could see the edges of her areolas.
They wrestled me into the pool. Laughing. Splashing. Bodies sliding against mine.
Vanessa pinned me against the wall, her tits crushed to my chest. "Got you," she grinned, breath hot on my lips.
Clara swam up behind me, hands on my waist. "Don't let him escape, baby girl."
I was trapped between them. Hard. Aching. Their hands "accidentally" brushing my cock under the water.
That night, I jerked off three times imagining them.
It was a Friday. Vanessa was at a friend's bachelorette party—wouldn't be home till morning.
Clara had been drinking. Not drunk. Just… soft. Vulnerable.
She knocked on my door at midnight wearing a sheer black robe and nothing else. I could see everything—her heavy breasts, the dark triangle between her thighs.
"Baby," she whispered, climbing onto my bed. "I can't sleep. I keep thinking about… how lonely I am."
Her hand slid under my sheet. Found me already hard.
"Mom…" I choked.
"Shh." She stroked me through my boxers, slow, reverent. "You're so big. So beautiful. Let Mommy take care of you."
She pulled my cock out. Stared at it like it was a miracle. Then she leaned down and took me into her mouth.
Wet. Warm. Perfect.
I came in less than a minute, groaning her name. She swallowed every drop, moaning like it tasted like heaven.
Then she crawled up my body, robe falling open, and kissed me deep, letting me taste myself on her tongue.
"This is our secret," she whispered. "But it's only the beginning."
The next morning, Vanessa came home early. Found Clara's robe on my floor. Saw the bite marks on my neck.
Instead of screaming… she locked my door. Stripped off her dress. Crawled onto my bed in just a red thong.
"Mommy got to play?" she purred, straddling my face. "Now it's big sister's turn."
Her pussy was soaked. She tasted like sin.
I ate her out while she ground against my tongue, coming with my name on her lips.
Then she sank down on my cock—slow, tight, perfect—and rode me until we both shattered.
The air in the villa had changed.
It wasn't just warm anymore; it was thick, honey-slow, humming with the secret we now shared.
Friday night again.
Vanessa had come home from work early, hair still damp from the gym, sports bra clinging to her breasts like it was painted on. Clara was in the kitchen, barefoot in a silk slip the color of champagne, slicing strawberries for no reason other than to keep her hands busy.
I walked in and they both stopped.
Vanessa's eyes flicked to the faint bruise on my collarbone (Clara's teeth marks from two nights ago).
Clara's gaze dropped to the way Vanessa's nipples had hardened the second she saw me.
No one spoke for a full ten seconds.
Then Clara set the knife down.
"Living room," she said, voice low. "Now."
We obeyed.
The sectional was huge, cream leather, soft as sin. Clara sat in the middle. Vanessa dropped to her knees in front of her, hands sliding up Clara's smooth thighs, pushing the slip higher.
"Tell him," Vanessa murmured, kissing the inside of Clara's knee. "Tell him what you told me this morning."
Clara's cheeks flushed crimson, but her eyes never left mine.
"I want to watch you fuck my daughter," she whispered. "And then I want both of you to fuck me until I forget I was ever married to anyone else."
My cock throbbed so hard it hurt.
Vanessa looked back at me over her shoulder, green eyes glittering. "Come here, little brother."
I crossed the room like I was floating. Vanessa tugged my sweatpants down, freeing me. She moaned at the sight (I was already leaking).
Clara spread her legs wider. No panties. Just glistening pink folds, swollen and ready.
Vanessa guided me forward until the head of my cock brushed Clara's entrance.
"Slow," she ordered. "Let Mommy feel every inch."
I pushed in.
Clara's head fell back, a broken moan spilling from her lips as I sank into her velvet heat. She was tighter than I remembered, hotter, her walls fluttering around me like they were trying to pull me deeper.
Vanessa watched, lips parted, one hand between her own thighs, rubbing slow circles over her clit through her yoga pants.
"God, look at her face," Vanessa breathed. "She's never been this full."
Clara's hands clutched my shoulders. "Baby… move… please…"
I started to thrust: slow, deep strokes that made her breasts bounce under the silk. Vanessa peeled the straps down, exposing Clara's heavy tits, rosy nipples begging for attention. She latched onto one, sucking hard while I fucked her mother right in front of her.
Clara came first: sudden, violent, her pussy clamping down so hard I saw stars. She cried out into Vanessa's hair, thighs shaking around my hips.
I pulled out, slick and shining with Clara's juices. Vanessa grabbed my wrist.
"My turn."
She shoved me onto my back, yanked off her clothes in one frantic motion. Her body was a sculpture: toned stomach, flared hips, pussy bare except for a neat golden strip.
She straddled me reverse cowgirl, facing Clara.
"Watch Mommy," she told her. "Watch how I take your son."
Clara's eyes were glassy with lust. She crawled forward on her knees, spreading Vanessa's ass cheeks so she could see every detail as Vanessa sank down onto my cock.
The sound Vanessa made was pure filth: a long, guttural moan as I stretched her open. She was tighter than Clara, almost painfully so, but dripping wet.
Clara leaned in and licked: one long swipe from my balls up to where we were joined, tasting both of us. Vanessa shuddered, grinding down hard.
Then Clara climbed over my face.
"Eat me while she rides you," she commanded, lowering her soaked pussy onto my mouth.
Heaven.
Vanessa started bouncing: slow at first, then faster, her ass slapping against my thighs. Clara rocked against my tongue, feeding me her clit in tiny circles, her hands braced on Vanessa's shoulders.
They kissed above me: deep, hungry, tongues tangling. Clara's moans vibrated against my lips; Vanessa's pussy clenched every time their breasts rubbed together.
I was drowning in them.
Vanessa came first this time: screaming into Clara's mouth, her walls milking me so hard I had to grit my teeth to keep from following her.
Clara wasn't far behind. She ground down hard, flooding my face as she climaxed again, thighs trembling around my head.
I couldn't hold back anymore.
"Inside," Clara gasped, reading my face. "Both of you: come inside us."
Vanessa slammed down one last time, taking me to the root. I exploded: thick, endless pulses that filled her so full it leaked out around my cock, dripping down my balls.
Clara collapsed forward, kissing Vanessa through the aftershocks, then me: soft, reverent, tasting herself on my lips.
We stayed like that for a long time: tangled, sticky, breathing each other in.
Eventually Vanessa laughed, low and satisfied. "New house rule," she murmured, tracing lazy circles on my chest. "Every Friday night is family night."
Clara smiled against my neck. "And every other night… we'll improvise."
I closed my eyes, surrounded by warm, soft, perfect flesh.
This wasn't a family anymore.
This was home.