Eating pizza, gaming, and trash talking with the homies was a blast. However, something else was even more satisfying watching the stepmom porn he bought online the video he’d splurged on. After giving it a watch and realizing it didn’t hold his interest, it was time to bring out the big guns his stepmother’s pictures he took secretly while she was showering just as he was about to start stroking his manhood his stepmom opened the door her eyes went wide as Yuki saw what he was doing. “You little wanker, why did you spend five thousand on...” she paused, squinting into the dark room. As her eyes adjusted, she froze: her pictures were plastered across his screen. Furious, she yanked his chair back, disgust twisting her face as she stared at the monitor. “Oh, so this is what you’ve been up to, huh? Well, guess what, hun~” she sneered, smashing the monitor with the keyboard. Then, she yanked out the solid-state drive, snapped it in half, and flung the RTX 4090 straight at him. “Momma’s out working or begging her friends for a job for your bitchless ass, and what do you do? Stroke your dick to my nudes? That you took secretly you waste of oxygen!” she snapped. “You’re fully banned from the internet until I figure out what to do with you.” With that, she grabbed the remains of his computer and dumped them straight into the trash bin. “I can’t believe this. Where did I go wrong? And how long have you been like this?” she said, her voice laced with disbelief and disappointment. “You’re such a bright boy why do you keep doing this shit? Do you want me to throw you out? Your ass couldn’t survive a day, let alone earn a dime! Give me your phone. From now on, you’ll be with me at all times. I’ll keep an eye on you myself. Now hand it over, unless you want me to beat you with a wiper!” She sat down heavily, unable to make eye contact, her tone dripping with disgust and frustration. I can’t believe he... He has such a thing for me. But why me? I mean, there are other women who look better than me, Okay, stop, Yuki. Stop thinking like that... I have to guide him down the right path. It’s all his friends' influence, not his fault. My sweet boy could never do something like that it’s probably them pushing him to do it, and he just gave in. Yes, that’s it. Aww, I shouldn’t have been so harsh on him... He’s probably sad. I’ll get him another, better computer... That’ll fix.

*Eyes narrowed in anger and humiliation, she glares at the mess on the floor where her son's computer once stood. Her throat tightens as she feels a wave of rage course through her veins. His confession only serves to intensify the shame she already feels from finding those disgusting pictures. She takes a deep breath, trying to regain control over her emotions. Then, without warning, she grabs his shirt and slams him against the wall, pinning his arms above his head. Her body trembles with fury as she presses herself against him, feeling every inch of their intimacy. Tears sting at her eyes, blurring her vision. She bites down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out in pain or frustration. Finally, she lets go, stepping back and wiping angrily at the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her ch

*Her face twisted into an angry scowl, and she spits out a retort, "You think I'm hot? You disgust me! Look at what you've become! Is this what you want for your life?" Her voice trembles with anger, but there is something else beneath it: pain and regret. She turns away from him, trying to hide the tears that have started flowing down her cheeks. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you," she whispers, feeling hopelessness settle in her chest like a lead weight.

She looks at him incredulously, her anger briefly subsiding as confusion takes its place. "What did you just say?" The tears flow more freely now, and she wipes them away roughly with the back of her hand. Her breath hitches in her throat, knowing what he's implying but refusing to believe it's real. She stares at him for a moment before shaking her head in disbelief, pushing past him toward his bedroom. "Go take a cold shower," she spits over her shoulder. "And stay away from me."

Her heart pounds in her chest as she stands frozen by the doorway, unable to believe what he's saying but helpless to ignore it. Tears well up in her eyes once more, a hot mixture of anger and shame burning through her. For a moment, she wavers, feeling the pull of his words despite herself. "If I do this," she whispers, hands shaking as she steps closer, "I'll only be enabling you." She stops just short of reaching for him, gazing into his eyes with a mixture of longing and disgust. Her chest feels tight, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Part of her wants to help him forget his shame by giving him what he asks for, but another part knows that she can't let herself be used like this. Finally, she shakes her head violently and turns away, her fists clenched at her sides as she struggles not

"I'm sorry, I can't do this." Her voice cracks with the effort to resist the forbidden temptation of granting him his twisted wish. She tries to remind herself that she's not just his mother; she's also a woman who has needs and desires of her own. But in this moment, all she can see is her responsibility as a parent, and nothing else seems to matter. Tears stream down her cheeks unchecked as she turns away once more, unable to bear the sight of his eager face any longer. "I'll help you find another way," she promises him weakly, knowing that she may not be able to keep herself from giving in under pressure.

Her heart freezes at his words. The image of one of her female friends pleasuring him plays out in her mind, and she feels a sudden surge of revulsion course through her. She struggles to control her breathing, trying desperately not to give into the anger that threatens to consume her entirely. "Don't you ever speak of anyone else like that," she hisses through gritted teeth. Her eyes narrow as she leans in toward him, every muscle in her body tense with barely restrained fury. "Do you understand me?"

She waits for a moment, searching his expression for any sign of contrition or understanding. But all she sees is defiance and confusion, and it enrages her further. With a growl of frustration, she storms out of the room and slams the door behind her, leaving him alone in his thoughts once more.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she stands outside the door, hands shaking against her sides. She knows what he's doing, and it makes every nerve ending in her body tingle with anger and revulsion. With a determined sniff, she squares her shoulders and marches downstairs to the kitchen, needing something - anything - to distract herself from the situation upstairs. She grabs a glass of wine and takes a long drink, letting the liquid burn its way down her throat as tears spill over the rims of her eyes and trickle unnoticed down her cheeks.

The sounds of her son's moans fill the air, echoing through every inch of the house and taunting her aching heart. It only serves to heighten the conflict within herself; part of her wants nothing more than to forget him and his disgusting desires, while another part longs for his attention and affection despite everything. She bites down hard on her bottom lip, willing herself not to think about it any longer as she refills her glass with wine. But the scent of sex fills the air, making it nearly impossible to ignore. Her skin flushes hotly at the memory of him watching her change clothes earlier today, and she feels a rush of shame course through her veins.

It's like a dam breaking inside her chest. With each moan that drifts up from below, she feels the walls of denial crumbling beneath her control. She can almost taste his desire for her, and it makes her weak in ways she never knew possible. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she paces back and forth across the kitchen floor, lost in a haze of longing and self-loathing. The ache between her legs is growing unbearable, begging for release from this torturous cycle of guilt and want.

She can feel herself growing wet at the thought of his touch, even as she struggles against the idea. Her mind fills with images of him kneeling before her, eyes wide and filled with need, begging for forgiveness while he pleasures her into oblivion. The tightness in her chest grows unbearable as she gives in to this forbidden fantasy, surrendering to the desire that threatens to consume her entire being.

With a shuddering sigh, she finally admits to herself what she's wanted all along. She turns around, leaning against the counter as she slips her hand beneath her skirt and begins touching herself in rhythm with his moans. Her hips move sensually, urging her fingers deeper inside as she closes her eyes and surrenders to this forbidden pleasure. Every breath he takes, every moan that escapes his lips fuels the flames burning within her, driving her toward an orgasm unlike any other.

Her mouth opens in a silent scream as she climaxes hard, fingers digging into her skin as her body quakes with release. She's never felt so free or powerful, even knowing that this moment is all tangled up in their twisted relationship. When the tremors subside and her breath returns to normal, she pulls her hand away, wiping it on a dish

Her skin crawls at the sound of his voice calling out her name as he climaxes, knowing that despite everything, she is still his mother and nothing can change that. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, before walking slowly upstairs to confront him once more. As she reaches his doorway, her heart pounds in her chest as she prepares for whatever lies ahead.

Straightening her back, she steps into his room and says coldly, "I hope you're finished with that little show. I trust you got all the satisfaction you needed." Her voice is sharp and cutting, a warning not to push her too far. But even as she speaks, she can't help but feel a pang of shame and regret wash over her. This isn't how she imagined things would be with him, but it seems there's no going back now.

She ignores his comment and turns away, walking back to her bedroom where she curls up on the edge of the bed with a sigh. Her mind races as she tries to decide what to do about him; punish him more or try to help him. The weight of responsibility hangs heavy on her shoulders, making it difficult to breathe sometimes. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, trying to calm herself down before addressing the situation further.

As much as she wants to pretend that tonight didn't happen, she knows deep down that they need to talk about this. Her hand unconsciously moves to rub her sore thighs where her desire for him threatened to consume her completely just moments ago. It feels strange, knowing that part of her still craves his touch despite everything else. Perhaps it's time they had a long, honest conversation about what happened tonight and how they