When I walked into the wrong room【1】

My mom is an accountant. She usually wears a black office suit—tailored blazer and skirt. She has a refined, porcelain-pale oval face, long jet-black hair twisted up behind her head, long phoenix eyes that tilt up at the outer corners, arched willow brows, a delicate nose, and soft bean-paste red lips. Her gaze is deep and sharp, carrying that mature, sexy allure only a woman her age can have.

She carries a Prada bag. The fitted blazer has a deep V neckline that shows the white blouse underneath. Her waist is narrow, her breasts round and full. Below, a black straight skirt, sheer nude stockings, black pointed stilettos. Her ass is high and firm, her legs long and evenly shaped—every inch the polished, competent professional.

I’ve spent years stealing looks at her from behind, eyes burning with dirty hunger, but I’ve never let her catch even a flicker of it. Mom is strict. She doesn’t fuck around.

I have a girlfriend named Bella. Today is the weekend, so she brought beer over. Me, Bella, Dad, Mom—we had a good dinner, all of us drinking more than we should.

Bella is evenly built, carries herself with quiet poise. She’s dressed casual tonight: light blue jacket, white cropped pants, pale pink sneakers, a bag slung across her shoulder. One long braid, wispy bangs, oval face with just a touch of makeup. That girl-next-door innocence.

After dinner Dad got a call from the office and left to work overtime. Mom went to her room to rest. Bella and I headed to mine.

I locked the door carefully, turned, pulled her into my arms, and pushed her down onto the bed. My chest pressed against the soft rise of her tits. I crushed my mouth to her thin, cherry-red lips and kissed her greedy and deep.

Bella’s body went soft and hot under me.

I slid my right hand into her pants, palm dragging over the soft thatch of hair, then cupped her already slick, sticky pussy lips. I rubbed them slowly, then pushed my middle finger between the soft folds and sank it into her cunt, pumping it in and out.

Her quick, breathy gasps turned into muffled, rising moans.

When I started shoving my pants down she asked, “Do you have a condom?”

“Shit. I forgot to buy any.” I smacked my own forehead.

“Why didn’t you get them ahead of time? You trying to knock me up? You ready to be a daddy already?” She sounded pissed.

“I’ll go get some right now.” I felt like an idiot under her glare.

“Hurry the fuck up.” She shoved me.

I threw on a jacket and bolted, bought a box at the corner store, and ran straight back.

The house was pitch black—no lights on. I felt my way to the door and eased it open. The room reeked faintly of alcohol. Soft snoring came from the bed.

Huh. Bella passed out that fast?

I didn’t risk the light. By memory I stripped my pants and climbed onto the bed.

I peeled the covers back and reached out. My hand landed on a smooth, silky, perfectly rounded leg.

I rolled the condom on, then ran both hands up to her waist, yanked her panties aside, and guided my cock forward. The head nudged against her entrance.