My Young StepMom (English)

Chapter - 6

I moved slowly, ensuring that my bed wouldn’t make a single sound. I wanted to make sure the danger was gone, that I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. I cautiously peered over the edge of my bunk bed once more.

But I was met with a shock; instead of an empty floor or Henry’s back, I was greeted by a pair of glinting, sharp eyes.

Henry was lying below, his head resting on his own arm like a king resting after a battle. And Ana... Ana was kneeling between Henry’s thighs. In the shadows, I saw the movement of Ana’s head,, licking and feasting upon Henry’s burning weapon, which seemed as though it hadn't tired at all. It felt as if every stroke of Ana’s tongue was being felt by me on my own skin.

My eyes met Henry’s. In the bright moonlight, I saw a mocking smirk form on Henry’s lips. He wasn't surprised to see me. Instead, he gripped Ana’s hair tighter, forcing the maid’s face deeper into his manhood while maintaining a direct, challenging stare into my eyes.

I quickly averted my gaze and lay back down on my stomach. I hugged myself, my heart racing like horses competing in a sprint. I felt as if I had been caught in a great sin, an act of voyeurism that shamed my entire being.

There, under my blanket, I couldn't help but reach for my panties. My hand trembled as it slowly brushed against the thin fabric. I gasped when I felt the intense slickness and moisture in my center. My jewel seemed to have its own pulse, demanding attention, as if aching for the pleasure my eyes had just witnessed.

I bit my lower lip hard, until I tasted the slight saltiness of my own sweat. My entire body felt like it was on fire—a fever brought on by longing. The image of Henry looking at me while being served by Ana played repeatedly in my mind, fueling a forbidden desire I should never have felt for my own stepson.

"Oh, God... please forgive me," I whispered into the dark, but my finger seemed to have a mind of its own as it moved slowly over my womanhood. Every stroke felt like the shadow of Henry’s hand. Every tickle felt like the young man’s mockery.

I didn't know how I would face the morning, knowing Henry had caught me watching. Yet every throb of my jewel served as a reminder that on this night, Henry wasn't the only one who had sinned—because in my mind, and in my wet and longing body, I had also surrendered to that man's ferocity. As I closed my eyes, Henry's face was the last thing I saw, along with every thrust he had given Ana earlier. The beauty of his back made me feel as if I were the one being taken; I bit my lower lip as I suddenly found pleasure in my own fingers while stroking my c******s.