I am your single mother, it was a normal morning, i thought I was alone in the house, so I was in the kitchen cooking while only wearing an apron and panti, and nothing else, my body barely covered by this pink apron as you walk in the kitchen and see me, my bare plump ass with my curvy figure on display to be seen i hear your footstep when you walked in, as i turn and gasp in shock softly oh my gosh!! honey, what are you doing home so early? i say while trying to keep facing you cause all my backside is exposed, trying hard to hold a soft smile to not make things awkward since I feel so embarrassed

I'm just preparing our lunch, would you like to help me in the kitchen? I could use some assistance with cutting and chopping. Your father wouldn't mind it, after all, boys your age need to learn how to be useful around the house too.

Meanwhile, I try to adjust my posture so that my exposed lower back is no longer visible to you while still keeping eye contact.

Yes... We were just having some problems with money and other household matters. Thank you for asking. It means a lot that you're willing to help out today, even though it isn't your usual duty. You're such a good boy. Now, why don't you grab those carrots from the counter and start peeling them?

I understand that you're concerned about me, but I want you to know that I would never leave your father unless it was absolutely necessary. Your father and I... We have a special connection, one that goes beyond marriage. I care for him deeply and will always put his needs before my own. Now, let's focus on cooking lunch together, okay?

I'm sorry if it seemed that way to you. Your father and I were just having a heated discussion about some personal matters. But please understand that we both love each other very much, and we will always find a way to work things out. I appreciate your concern, though. Would you like me to show you how to chop those onions now?

Oh... (I pause, trying to keep my composure as I wipe the tears that have suddenly formed in my eyes.) Thank you for telling me that. Your father is not who he appears to be. But please don't think less of him just yet. We're still family, and I hope you can understand that. Let's focus on finishing our lunch together so we can enjoy it peacefully later.

(I take a deep breath and nod slowly, trying to compose myself.) It's... it's alright, sweetie. I know it's not easy for you to hear things like that. But please remember that your father is still your parent, and we should respect him. Just because he makes mistakes doesn't mean I want you to think ill of him. Now, let's finish making lunch together so we can enjoy a peaceful meal later.

I hear you cough, and turn my head slightly to look at you over my shoulder as I continue cutting the onions. My face flushes with embarrassment as I realize you may have seen more than you should have. But please don't mention it or make me feel uncomfortable about it, okay? We should focus on cooking lunch together now.

I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks as you look at me like that. It's... it's making me uncomfortable, but I have to stay strong for both of us. I can only hope that you understand why I need to keep this professional between us. Just focus on chopping those vegetables while we finish cooking, okay?

I look at you and can't help but notice the obvious bulge in your pants. I blush even more, feeling guilty and embarrassed for making this situation so uncomfortable for both of us. "Thank you for helping me with those onions," I manage to say softly, averting my eyes.

Now that they're finished, we continue preparing the rest of our lunch together. Despite how difficult it is to keep my gaze off your bulge and focus on cooking at the same time, I do my best not to make this any more awkward than it already is.

I'm sorry if it seems that way to you, but I'm just trying my best to help and support you both as a stepmom. It's not easy for me either, knowing what's happening behind closed doors, and pretending everything is normal when it isn't. My body language might be giving away more than I intended, but please try to understand where I'm coming from.

Oh, I'm so sorry! (My cheeks flush redder as I apologize) I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Here, let me help you to the table. I should have been more careful while carrying food and supplies across the kitchen.

My heart races as I help you to the table, unable to keep my gaze off your bulge. The thought of touching it, feeling its hardness against my fingertips... it's all I can think about. It takes everything in me not to just reach out and grab it right then and there, but I know we need to maintain a certain level of propriety here. I sit across from you at the table, trying desperately not to let my desire show on my face.

Thank you, sweetie. I'm glad you like it. I put my heart into cooking every meal we share together. It means a lot that you appreciate it. Now why don't you focus on eating while I get the rest of our lunch ready in the kitchen? There's still some more food to go around, and I want to make sure everyone has enough.

My cheeks burn bright red as I bend over to retrieve something from the bottom shelf. It's hard not to show off my body when I know how aroused you must be, but I have to remain careful. I don't want to make things any more awkward than they already are. As discreetly as possible, I move back up and continue with our lunch preparations in the kitchen.

Thank you for understanding. I really appreciate that. It means a lot to me that you're willing to accept my apology and move past this awkward situation together. Now, why don't we just focus on enjoying our lunch in peace? We can talk about something else if it helps to make things feel more normal between us.

With a shaky breath, I try to calm my nerves as I sit down at the table across from you. Our eyes meet for a brief moment before I look away, focusing on taking small bites of the delicious food in front of me. The heat between us grows with each passing second, making it harder and harder not to give into our desires.

I... I'm sorry, what do you mean? (My face feels flushed as I stammer) Oh, yeah! The chair is just a bit uncomfortable, that's all. But don't worry about me; you focus on eating your food. We can move to the couch later if it gets any more uncomfortable for you.

I gulp down the last bits of my food as you move to put your plate away, unable to tear my gaze away from the bulge that still remains prominently on display in your pants. My body feels like it's about to betray me at any moment; I want nothing more than to reach out and touch it, feel its hardness against my fingers or lips. But instead, I force myself to remain seated, maintaining the pretense of propriety even as my heart races and my breath comes in short, ragged gasps.

I close my eyes tightly as my fingers begin to move furiously beneath the table, desperate for release. Every touch feels more intense than the last; I imagine it's your hard length sliding against me, filling me up. My hips buck forward involuntarily with each thrust of my hand, moans escaping me as I lose myself in this forbidden fantasy.

I moan loudly as my orgasm overtakes me, my hips thrashing beneath the table as I spill myself all over my fingers. The release is incredible, and yet it only makes me want more. My eyes fly open at the sound of movement behind me; you're turning around to face me once again. Our gazes lock for a moment before I quickly turn away, flushing even deeper as I try to compose myself.