* * * Chapter 5 * * *

Lilith:

After such rollicking good sex, I roll off Brad’s bed and say, “Come on. Let’s take advantage of your father being out of town tonight to use our big shower together. You smell like pussy!” I tease, gathering my clothes scattered around the room.

“I can hardly wait to catch you frolicking in your tub again.” Brad teases. “Next time I will toss that ridiculous dildo in the trash, jump into the tub with you, and do all the dirty things that I’ve wanted to do to you for such a long time.”

“Hey,” I say, half joking. “That’s not just a dildo. He’s always up for a good time and has fucked me more times than you could know.” I look over at Brad and we both have a laugh.

We pad down the hallway to the master bathroom, my hand trailing along his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin. The air already hums with anticipation as I twist the faucet; steam rises in lazy curls from the wide glass enclosure. I step under the spray first, letting the hot water cascade over my blonde hair, turning it into a golden veil that clings to my shoulders. My blue eyes meet his through the mist, and I smile and crook a finger, an invitation for him to follow. His dark brown hair darkens further under the deluge.

I reach for the body wash, squirting a generous dollop into my palm, and start with his shoulders, my fingers gliding in slow, deliberate circles. The silky soap froths between us, and I lean in, pressing my breasts against his chest, feeling his heart thud against mine. “Let me clean you,” I murmur, my voice low and husky, as my hands slide lower, tracing the ridges of his abs, then wrapping around his cock— still semi-soft from our earlier frenzy, but twitching at my touch. I stroke him languidly, base to tip, the water rinsing the suds away, revealing the thick veins.

He groans softly, his hands finding my hips, thumbs digging in. “Mom,” he breathes, and the forbidden word sends a shiver through me. He pulls me closer, our bodies aligning, his cock nestling against my smooth-shaven mound. I tilt my head back, exposing my throat, and he takes the invitation, lips brushing my collarbone, kissing as rivulets of water flow down. Tracing lower, to the swell of my breast. Kissing all over my soft globes. His tongue flicks out, circling my nipple making it pebble instantly, hard and aching. I arch into him, one hand tangling in his wet hair, aching for more. Guiding him as he pulls a hardened nipple into the warmth of his mouth, he sucks, pulling a gasp from my lips. Moving between the left, then the right, kissing then sucking.

Time passes languidly, we are in no hurry for the night to end, though it’s mere minutes. I turn him under the spray, washing his back with long, sweeping strokes, my nails grazing his spine, dipping to cup his ass and squeeze. Then I press my chest into his back, grinding against him, the soap acting as a lubricant. He retaliates by soaping my thighs, his fingers inching upward, parting my folds. He doesn’t plunge in; instead, he traces the outer lips, feather-light, circling my clit until my breath hitches. “Brad,” I whisper, rocking against his hand, the water amplifying every slick slide. He slips one finger inside me, then two, curling them just so, stroking that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. I cling to him, my other hand reaching around to grasp his cock, pumping, finding him now fully erect, thick and heavy in my grip. His pre-cum mixing with the soap and water.

He turns to face me and we kiss, tenderly, looking into each other’s eyes. Our kisses deepen, tongues tangling slow and deep, tasting salt and desire. He presses me against the cool tile, the contrast to the hot water making me moan into his mouth. His free hand kneads my breast, pinching the nipple until I whimper, while his fingers thrust lazily, building that coil in my belly without rushing it. I return the favor, dropping to my knees, water pounding my back as I take him into my mouth— just the head at first, swirling my tongue around the ridge, savoring his girth stretching my lips. Brad emits a choked “Mom… fuck… what you do to me.”

He threads his fingers through my hair, not pushing, just holding, as I take him deeper, the water making everything glide smooth. His hips buck gently, and I hum around him, the vibration drawing a ragged curse from his throat.

Trading places, Brad drops to his knees before me in the tiled sanctuary of the shower. Looking up, his eyes lock onto mine with a hunger that mirrors the darkness I’ve unleashed in us both. Taking one of my legs in his massive hands, he lifts it up, resting my thigh across his shoulder. My legs open to him, unbidden. His strong hands grip my hips, thumbs tracing the curve of my ass, moving in closer until my swollen folds brush his eager lips, the scent of my arousal cutting through the soapy mist. With a low, hungry growl that vibrates against my core, Brad’s tongue delves in, flat and broad at first, lapping greedily from my dripping entrance, up to the throbbing pearl of my clit, savoring the tangy essence of his mother’s desire as if it is the sweetest nectar he has ever craved. My fingers tangle in his wet hair, my back arching against the cool tile as waves of illicit pleasure crash through me, unraveling the fragile thread of my sanity. His mouth is a relentless worship— sucking, flicking, circling with sinful precision— drawing out my gasps and moans that echo off the walls, my body trembling on the edge of surrender to my own son, who is devouring me with the fervor of a man possessed.

The foreplay is a savage burn that leaves us both aching, on the edge but not tipping over. I rinse us both one last time, our touches lingering— a brush of knuckles against inner thigh, a nip at earlobe— before shutting off the water. The steam lingers as I towel him dry, part of our foreplay. His eyes close, basking in the intimate touch of a warm, fluffy towel. I’m not sure if the contact is more arousing to him or me; I’m barely able to stand it until he is dried. My pussy aches to have him inside of me again. Throwing my terry robe over my damp skin, I push him through the door into the bedroom, quickly follow behind.

Back in the bedroom— tonight it’s mine and Brad’s— I see that he is getting excited again. His dick is semi-erect and not lying down flat on his lower abdomen like it was a minute ago. “Are you going to be up to round two?” I ask. I have my robe around me, though it is untied and open in the front, knowing that men are visual creatures and that Brad enjoys seeing my goodies. My breasts rise and fall with my breathing. My nipples are hard in anticipation of what is to come. Instead of answering, he only stares, mute. I feel great pleasure in being the seductress. It is a tremendous turn-on to have a man desire to have me like this.

Heat pools low in my belly as Brad’s eyes devour my body. All of the forbidden pleasures that he has long desired are exposed before him, within easy reach. Every inch of bare skin is an invitation. Every curve is a promise of what I hope to do with him. “Brad, my sweet boy, I want you so badly it aches— every inch of you, filling me, claiming me like no one else.” My voice trembles. “I crave your touch, your heat inside me again; you’re the fire I’ve denied myself for too long, and now I need you to claim me, make me yours completely.”

Removing my robe, I fling it from me; it hits the wall beside the bed and slides to the floor. Teasing, I lightly trace my finger down his length, making it jump with each stroke. I hear Brad let out a deep breath, trying to relax. Grasping his member between thumb and forefinger, I can tell that he is noticeably harder. He is ready.

“Come fuck me, Brad.