Flaws and Secrets

MY MOTHER'S BOYFRIEND'S SHAFT 🏠🍆💦💦(1)

Cassie Pov

I never planned on wanting my mother’s boyfriend.

At twenty-three, I thought I was past stupid decisions. I would come back home for the summer after my contract job fell through, telling myself it would only be a few weeks. Just until I found something new. The house was small, the AC barely worked, and the tension in the air was thicker than the humid nights.

Damon had been living with my mom for six months. Charming. Easy-going. The kind of man who filled every room without even trying. Tall, broad-shouldered, with that quiet confidence that made women look twice. My mom was completely smitten. I tried to avoid him as much as possible out of principle.

But tonight that wasn't going to happen.

Mom was visiting her sister across town and wouldn’t be back until morning. The power had flickered earlier from the heat, and now the kitchen lights were off. I came downstairs at 2 a.m. in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties, dying for a glass of cold water.

I didn’t expect him to be there.

Damon stood at the counter in the dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the fridge light. He wore gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and no shirt. The sight of his bare chest toned, with just the right amount of muscle made me pause in the doorway.

He turned when he heard me. Our eyes met. Neither of us reached for the light switch.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, voice low and rough from the late hour.

“Yeah.” I walked past him to the fridge, very aware of how short my t-shirt was. “It’s too hot.”

He didn’t move out of the way. Our bodies brushed as I reached for a bottle of water. His skin was warm. The brief contact sent a spark straight between my legs.

I should have gone back upstairs. Instead I leaned against the counter, taking slow sips, feeling his eyes on me in the darkness.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Cassie,” he said quietly. He wasn't accusing me but just stating a fact.

I swallowed. “Have I?”

“You know you have.” He stepped closer. The kitchen island was behind me now. I was trapped between the counter and his body. “Ever since I moved in. You barely look at me. But when you do…”

My heart pounded. I could smell his scent clean soap and something distinctly male. My n*****s tightened against the thin fabric of my shirt.

“I’m trying to be good,” I whispered.

Damon’s hand came up, bracing on the counter beside me. Barely touching me. “Your mom’s not here tonight.”

The words hung between us like a challenge. I knew what he was saying. What he was offering. The wrongness of it hit me hard — this was my mother’s man. The one who slept in her bed. But my body didn’t care. Heat pooled low in my belly. My panties were already getting damp.

I looked up at him. In the dim light, his eyes were dark with the same hunger I felt.

“I shouldn’t want this,” I said, voice barely audible.

“Neither should I.” His thumb brushed my lower lip, gentle but deliberate. “But here we are.”

The tension snapped.

I rose onto my toes and kissed him first. It was slow at the beginning, testing, then deeper. Hungrier. His mouth was warm and sure, tasting like the whiskey he’d probably had earlier. His hands finally touched me sliding under my t-shirt, gripping my waist, pulling me flush against him.

I moaned softly into his mouth when I felt how hard he already was through his sweatpants. Big. Thick. Pressing against my stomach.

“f**k, Cassie,” he groaned against my lips. One hand moved down to cup my ass, squeezing. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

I rocked against him, needing more friction. My p***y was aching now, soaked through my thin panties. I reached between us and palmed his c**k through the fabric. He hissed, hips jerking forward into my touch.

We moved without thinking. He lifted me onto the kitchen counter, spreading my legs wide. His fingers traced up my inner thigh until they brushed the wet spot on my panties.

“Soaked already,” he murmured, voice thick. “All this time avoiding me and your p***y is dripping for me in your mom’s kitchen.”

The dirty words made me throb. I pulled him closer, kissing him harder as he pushed my panties aside and slid two fingers through my folds.

“Damon…” I gasped when he pushed them inside me. He was thick. Skilled. Curling just right while his thumb found my c**t.

“That’s it,” he whispered against my neck, kissing and biting softly. “Let me feel how wet you get for the wrong man.”

I rode his hand shamelessly, moaning quietly. The risk of my mom coming home early only made everything hotter. I came fast and hard on his fingers, biting his shoulder to stay quiet, my p***y clenching around him as waves of pleasure rolled through me.

But we both knew we weren’t stopping there.

He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, tasting me while looking straight into my eyes. The sight made my core tighten again.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he said, even as he freed his c**k from his sweatpants. It was thick and heavy, the head glistening.

I wrapped my hand around it, stroking slowly. “I know.”

Neither of us moved away.