Chapter 40: Dual Realities
An hour was a lifetime and a heartbeat. The sun had climbed, its light shifting from molten gold to a clear, brilliant white that poured through the high windows of the walk-in closet, bleaching the velvets and silks into pastel ghosts of their true colors. The air still hummed with the scent of sex and perfume, but now held the sharp, clean note of shower gel and wet skin. They had washed, a brief, practical interlude under rainfall showerheads that did little to cool the deeper, simmering heat between them. It was a reset, not a conclusion.
Olivia stood at her full-length mirror, applying a light, dewy foundation with steady fingers. She was nude again, her skin glowing from the scrubbing, every curve and hollow highlighted by the stark light. Behind her, reflected in the glass, Ethan leaned against a tower of sweater drawers, watching her. He wore only low-slung gray sweatpants, the fabric tented prominently at the front. His eyes tracked the movement of her hands as they smoothed the makeup over her cheeks, down her neck, over the faint, rosy bloom of a fresh love bite just above her collarbone—a mark he’d placed there after their shower, a silent claim.
“You’re staring,” she said, a smile playing on her lips even as she focused on blending a concealer under her eyes.
“Can’t help it,” he replied, his voice a low rumble. “You’re my favourite view.”
She met his eyes in the reflection, her gaze softening. Then it sharpened, shifting to the phone charging on the marble countertop beside her perfume bottles. The Milan contracts. Sandrine’s terse email, sent fifteen minutes ago: ‘Call me. Final points.’
A thrill, cold and electric, threaded through her warmth. The duality called again, louder now. It wasn’t just about the thrill of the secret anymore; it was about power. It was about holding the entire world at bay with the clench of her inner muscles.
“I need to call Sandrine back,” she said, her tone deceptively light. “The Lake Como contracts.”
Ethan pushed off the drawers and walked towards her. His bare feet were silent on the plush carpet. He came to stand directly behind her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. He didn’t touch her. He just looked at her reflection, his hands hanging loose at his sides.
“Now?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Now,” she confirmed, picking up the phone. She didn’t dial immediately. Instead, she turned within the circle of his space, facing him. She reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, hooking her fingers into it. “But I don’t want to be bored during the legalese.”
She pulled him gently, leading him backwards until his calves hit the low, velvet-covered bench in the center of the closet. He sat, the defiance in his eyes replaced by dark anticipation. Olivia knelt before him, not in submission, but in command. She tugged his sweatpants and boxer briefs down just enough to free his erection, which sprang out, already fully hard, thick and heavy against his stomach.
“Just stay,” she whispered, leaning forward to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss on his inner thigh. Then she shifted, turning her back to him. She guided his hands to her hips. “Right here.”
Understanding dawned on his face, a slow, wicked smile. He knew what she wanted. What she needed. She presented herself to him, bending forward from the waist, her hands bracing on the edge of the mirrored vanity table. Her reflection showed her determined face, the fall of her hair over her shoulders, and behind her, his large, capable hands spreading her apart. He spat into his palm, a quick, wet sound, and slicked himself. The head of his cock, broad and insistent, found the already well-used entrance from earlier.
He pushed inside.
It was easier this time, her body welcoming the familiar, stretching to accommodate him with a slick, yielding sigh. But the sensation was no less profound. The fullness was immediate, a deep, internal claiming that stole her breath. He seated himself fully with one smooth, slow push, until his pelvis was flush against the back of her thighs. A groan rumbled from his chest.
Olivia let her head fall forward, exhaling a long, shuddering breath. Then, she straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and picked up her phone from the vanity. She tapped Sandrine’s number, put it on speaker, and set it down beside a crystal bottle of amber perfume.
It rang twice.
“Olivia. Good, you’re prompt,” Sandrine’s voice crackled through, all business. “I have Roberto and the legal liaison, Marco, on the line as well. We need to finalize three items.”
“I’m listening,” Olivia said, her voice perfectly level. Inside, Ethan began to move. Not a frantic pace, but a slow, almost meditative rhythm. Deep, withdrawing strokes that made her feel hollowed out, followed by relentless, complete re-entries that filled her to the brim. His hands moved from her hips to her waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on the small of her back.
“First, the exclusivity clause for social media. They want you to hold all posts related to the campaign for forty-eight hours post-launch.”
Ethan’s thrusts deepened infinitesimally. Olivia’s knuckles whitened on the edge of the vanity. “Unacceptable,” she said, the word coming out on a controlled exhale. “Twenty-four hours is my standard. I have other partnerships that require activation windows.”
“I argued that,” Sandrine replied, the sound of typing in the background. “Marco?”
A male voice, younger, tentative, came on. “Signora Hayes, we feel the forty-eight-hour window is crucial for the initial impact—”
Olivia cut him off, her tone firm but polite even as Ethan’s pace picked up a fraction, the soft slap of skin against skin a quiet counterpoint to the call. “Marco, the impact is in the imagery, not in the silence afterwards. Twenty-four hours. That’s my final position.”
She felt Ethan’s hands slide up her body, over the flare of her hips, along the indent of her waist, until his palms cupped the full, heavy weight of her breasts from beneath. He kneaded them gently, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, sending sharp darts of pleasure straight to her core, syncing with the deep pulse of his cock in her ass.
There was a muffled discussion on the other end of the line. Olivia closed her eyes, focusing on the dual sensations: the intense, stretching fullness below, the exquisite, rolling pressure on her breasts. Ethan’s rhythm was hypnotic, a constant, grounding pulse.
“They’ve agreed,” Sandrine said, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Twenty-four hours. Second item. The creative director is requesting a nude test shot on location, to gauge the light on skin. It would be tasteful, implied only.”
Ethan’s fingers pinched her nipples, not hard, but with a sudden, electric intensity. Olivia gasped, a short, sharp sound she covered with a cough.
“Olivia? Are you alright?”
“Fine,” she said, her voice slightly strained. She cleared her throat. Ethan’s thrusts became more deliberate, each one a slow, grinding circle that touched something breathtaking deep inside her. “A… a nude test is fine. Provided it’s myself, the director, and the photographer only. No assistants.”
“Noted,” Sandrine said. “Third item. Fee.”
This was the crux. Olivia opened her eyes, staring at her own reflection. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted. Ethan’s hands were moving on her breasts, worshipping them, his own reflection a picture of concentrated control behind her.
“Their final offer is eight hundred,” Sandrine stated.
Ethan’s rhythm didn’t falter, but his hands tightened slightly on her flesh. He knew what that number meant. It was good. It wasn’t enough.
“Nine-fifty,” Olivia said, the number leaving her lips steady and clear even as Ethan chose that moment to drive particularly deep, hitting a spot that made her vision blur at the edges. She bit down on her lower lip, hard.
“Olivia,” Sandrine sighed, the sound of a veteran negotiator facing a familiar, stubborn force. “They’re already stretching. The eight-fifty we discussed earlier was already above market for a three-day shoot.”
“Then make it nine for four days,” Olivia countered, her mind split perfectly in two. One part calculated rates, residuals, the value of her brand. The other part was a molten, liquid thing focused solely on the thick, hard length moving inside her, on the sweet, building pressure in her clit from the friction against the bench with each thrust. “Add a fourth day. B-roll footage for their digital channels. They’ll pay for the extra day, and they get more content. It’s a compromise.”
Ethan’s breath was hot on her back now. He leaned forward, pressing his chest against her spine, his hands still busy on her breasts. His lips found the shell of her ear. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, a low, fervent prayer meant only for her.
On the phone, a rapid conversation in Italian ensued. Olivia tuned it out, losing herself in the sensation of his whispered words against her skin, the solid feel of him wrapped around her, inside her. He was her anchor in the storm of negotiation.
Sandrine came back on. “They’ll agree to eight-eighty for four days. That’s their absolute ceiling, Olivia. It’s a strong deal.”
Olivia considered. It was strong. It was a victory. But a tiny, vicious part of her, the part that was currently being fucked so thoroughly, wanted more. “I want a first-class return ticket added. Not for me. For a plus-one.”
Ethan stilled behind her, just for a second. His entire body went rigid with surprise.
“A plus-one?” Sandrine asked, incredulity creeping into her professional tone. “Olivia, you never travel with an entourage.”
“Not an entourage,” Olivia said, looking directly into her own eyes in the mirror. She saw the woman there, the model, the businesswoman. And she saw the reflection of her son, buried inside her, his expression one of stunned, naked emotion. “For my son. Ethan. He’s… he’s my personal support. I want him there.”
The silence on the line was profound. Ethan’s hands slid from her breasts, down her stomach, coming to rest on her hips. He held her there, still deep inside her, not moving. She could feel the rapid, heavy beat of his heart against her back.
“That is… highly unorthodox,” Sandrine said carefully.
“It’s non-negotiable,” Olivia replied, and her voice held a finality that brooked no argument. It was the same voice she used on set when a photographer pushed too far. It was the voice of Olivia Hayes, the institution. “The eight-eighty stands. The fourth day stands. The plus-one ticket is added. Or I walk, and they can find another ‘timeless beauty’ for Lake Como.”
The threat hung in the air, mingling with the scent of their sex. Ethan began to move again, a slow, deep, almost reverent rhythm. His thrusts were longer, more deliberate, as if he was pouring his gratitude, his awe, into each motion.
After a tense pause, Sandrine let out a short, clipped breath. “Alright. I’ll make it happen. You drive a hard bargain, chérie.”
“It’s why you love me,” Olivia said, a genuine smile touching her lips.
“The contracts will be revised and sent within the hour. I’ll need your e-signature.”
“You’ll have it.”
“Ciao.”
“Ciao.”
The call disconnected. The electronic beep seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet closet, now filled only with the sound of their breathing and the soft, wet sound of Ethan moving inside her.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Olivia stared at her reflection, at the triumph shining in her own eyes. She had done it. Secured the fee, the extra day, and him. She had brought him into her world, officially, even if under a guise. The enormity of it flooded her, warm and potent.
Ethan broke the stillness. He withdrew from her slowly, the sensation a long, dragging ache. She whimpered at the loss, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.
He didn’t speak. His eyes were dark, intense pools of emotion. He guided her to turn around fully, until she was facing him on her knees. His cock, glistening and hard, bobbed before her face. He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking the high bone.
“You…” he began, but his voice cracked. He swallowed, tried again. “You got them to bring me?”
She nodded, leaning into his touch. “I want you there. I need you there.”
His answer was to thread his hand into her hair, not to force, but to guide. “Thank you,” he breathed, and the words were weighted with more than just gratitude for a plane ticket. They were a recognition of everything she was, everything she did for him, everything she was willing to risk.
She opened her mouth, taking him in without being asked. This was different from before. This was slower, more intimate. She loved him with her mouth, with her tongue, with the hollows of her cheeks. She took him deep, relaxing her throat, letting him feel the heat and the worship. Her hands came up to cradle his balls, heavy and tight, and she massaged them gently as she worked him.
He watched her, his breathing growing ragged. “God, mum… the way you suck me… after all that…”
She hummed around him, the vibration making his legs tremble. She redoubled her efforts, bobbing her head faster, using her tongue to swirl and press along the sensitive frenulum. She could taste herself on him, a musky, intimate flavor. She lost herself in the act, in the power of giving him this pleasure after the tense victory of the call.
His tells were familiar. The tightening of his fingers in her hair. The slight arch of his back. The low, guttural groans that started in his chest. His cock began to pulse against her tongue, swelling even further.
“I’m gonna come,” he warned, his voice strained. “Gonna give it all to you.”
She didn’t pull away. She locked her eyes with his, a challenge and an invitation. She took him to the hilt, until her nose was pressed against his skin, until he was fully embedded in her throat.
The first jet was a scalding rush against the back of her tongue. She swallowed convulsively, but as always, the volume was staggering. The second pulse was stronger, flooding her mouth. She pulled back, wanting to see, to taste, to be painted by him.
The third eruption was the main event. It shot across her tongue, over her lips, splattering hot and thick across her cheek and nose. She kept her mouth open, her tongue out, as he continued to come. Rope after rope of pearly white arced through the air, landing on her face, her chin, streaking through her meticulously applied makeup. It coated her throat, her collarbone. It fell in heavy, glistening dollops onto the tops of her breasts, sliding down the smooth curves.
It seemed to go on forever, a testament to his youth, his health, his sheer arousal at the situation. His body shook with the force of it. Finally, the torrent subsided into weak, last spurts that dripped from his tip onto her waiting tongue.
She closed her mouth, swallowing what was inside, the taste rich and potent. She kept her eyes open, looking up at him, her face a beautiful, debauched canvas of his release.
He was breathless, watching her with something like reverence. Slowly, he traced a finger through a streak on her cheek, then brought it to his own mouth, tasting it. “My perfect mother,” he whispered.
He sank to his knees before her, uncaring of the mess on the carpet. He kissed her then, deep and hungry, tasting himself on her lips and tongue. His hands framed her slick, sticky face.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Olivia smiled. It was a radiant, triumphant, messy smile. “We’re going to Lake Como,” she said.
He laughed , the sound rich and throaty, a rumble that vibrated through her bones. “You’re going to fuck me in the lake.”
“Not yet,” she purred, her voice a silk thread wrapped around his cock. “First, we’re going to make sure you’re ready for the trip.”
Ethan’s breath hitched as she stood, her body glistening with his cum. The light from the penthouse windows caught the droplets on her skin, turning them into tiny, shimmering jewels. She was magnificent, her curves accentuated by the way the cum clung to her, making her look like a goddess of pleasure.
Her face stilled, as if contemplating something, a sly grin slowly forming on her face,which had nothing to do with the plans of Italy.
“Mum?”, he asked looking at the scheming cum covered face of his mother, “what’s that slutty mind of yours cooking up now?”, he asked with a playful smirk, his cock still hard and ready for more.
Olivia chuckled, “Oh, Ethan, you know me too well. I was just thinking, we have a few hours before the contracts arrive, and I need to clean up. But I also need to make sure you're well... prepared for our trip."
She walked over to the wall where a large, ornate mirror hung, her hips swaying seductively. She stood before it, her reflection a sight to behold. Her makeup was ruined, her face a mess of streaked cum and smeared foundation. Her breasts were slick with it, her nipples hard and dark.
The cum had turned her skin into a living map of desire, every droplet a promise of what was to come. She turned slowly, her fingers trailing down her body, collecting the evidence of his pleasure before spreading it across her skin like a sacred unction. Ethan watched, transfixed, as she traced the path from her throat to her belly button, then lower, until her fingers disappeared between her thighs.
"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice thick with awe. His cock twitched at the sight of her, already hardening again.
Olivia smirked, her eyes dark with mischief. "You think so?" she asked, her voice dripping with seduction. “Also I was thinking, it was such a turn on getting fucked while being on a call, no one but us knew what was going on. Come fuck my ass, let me see who else I can call”.
Ethan’s smile at that was slow, wicked. He stood, his cock already hard again, a thick, heavy length that pointed at her like an accusation. “You’re a bad influence, mother,” he said, his voice a low growl.
“And you love it,” she replied, her eyes gleaming with challenge. She turned, presenting her ass to him, her hands braced on the vanity. She looked at him over her shoulder, her reflection a picture of wanton abandon. “Now, fuck me like you mean it.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He stepped up behind her, his hands gripping her hips with a possessive intensity. He guided himself to her entrance, already slick with their combined juices.
Her asshole welcomed him with no resistance , the tight ring of muscle parting like silk around the thick crown of his cock. The sound of his flesh splitting her open was muffled by the plush carpet, but the wet, obscene *squelch* of him breaching her was unmistakable. His hands slid up her spine, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of her shoulders, anchoring her as he pushed forward.
Olivia’s breath hitched, her fingers curling into the edge of the vanity. The mirror behind her reflected her in a distorted, erotic way—her face twisted in pleasure, her body bent forward like a sacrifice, her ass high and round, taking him.
“Who are you going to call?”, he asked kneading the round flesh of her ass. Her response, while she pushed back telling him to start the slow deep thrusts, was a breathy, “I was thinking...maybe I’ll call my mum.She’s been asking about your work from home job.Should I tell her how you take your breaks?”.
Her voice was a sultry purr, a challenge thrown over her shoulder. Ethan's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made her gasp. Each thrust was a deep, claiming stroke that filled her completely, the thick length of him stretching her asshole wide.
“You wouldn’t,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. “She’d never understand.”
Olivia laughed, a throaty sound that ended on a moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Oh, Ethan,” she said, her voice breathless, “you underestimate your grandma. Not that I plan on moaning while i talk to her, but I can’t help but think how she’d react to the sound of your fat cock stretching my ass like this.” She pushed back against him, her hips rolling to take him deeper, her voice dropping to a whisper. “She’d probably be jealous.”
Ethan’s hands tightened on her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he thrust again. His voice was rough, a mix of awe and possessiveness. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble, mother.”
He didn’t stop his languid pumps in her ass, he knew she’d handle whatever she do, she was a queen of pleasure.She’d already demonstrated that by taking him in her ass for the entire duration of her shoot plan call just minutes ago.
She picked up her phone lazily, supporting herself with just one hand, enjoying the stretch, slow and deep, of Ethan's cock in her ass. She scrolled through her contacts, her eyes landing on the name she was looking for. She hit dial, putting the phone on speaker, and placed it on the vanity.
“Mum?” she said, her voice a sultry purr, as Ethan began to fuck her with slower, longer strokes.
“Olivia, darling!” Her mother’s voice was a bright, cheerful thing, a stark contrast to the dark, erotic symphony playing out in the closet. “I was just thinking about you. I’ve missed our little talks,” her mother’s voice purred through the speaker, warm and familiar.
She sipped some juice from the glass she had picked up from the vanity, her eyes never leaving Ethan’s reflection in the mirror as he continued to fuck her ass. The glass was half full, the liquid a rich amber that caught the light just right, making it shimmer like liquid gold. She took a sip, letting the cool liquid slide down her throat, feeling it soothe her dry lips. Her mother’s voice was a soothing balm to her ears, a contrast to the raw, primal sounds coming from her throat as Ethan fucked her.
“Hi, mum,” Olivia said, her voice calm.
Ethan watched her reflection, his eyes wide with disbelief. She was doing it. She was really doing it. He relaxed, thrusts now gentle, just caressing the insides of her ass.
“How’ve you been mum ?” Olivia asked, her voice a sultry whisper, her fingers tracing the rim of the glass. Ethan’s cock pulsed inside her, swollen and heavy, the head pressing against the tight ring of muscle with every slow retreat. She could feel the warmth of him, the way his skin slid against hers, slick with their combined arousal. The sound of his cock sliding in and out of her ass was a wet, obscene rhythm, a symphony of pleasure that filled the penthouse closet.
“Oh, you know, just the usual,” her mother’s voice replied, warm and affectionate. “I’ve been reading your latest articles, darling. They’re so insightful”. Olivia smiled, a genuine one, as Ethan continued his slow, gentle thrusts, his hands now massaging her ass, spreading her cheeks wider to take him deeper. “I’m glad you like them, mum. I put a lot of thought into them.”
“And how is Ethan doing, darling? You two are still working together, aren’t you?” Her mother’s voice held a note of curiosity, a subtle hint of something more. Olivia knew her mother was fishing for information, but she was also genuinely interested in Ethan’s well-being.
Olivia’s eyes met Ethan’s in the mirror. He was watching her, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. “He’s doing well, mum,” Olivia replied, her voice steady despite the thick length of him moving inside her. “He’s been very... productive.” She emphasized the last word, her eyes never leaving Ethan's in the mirror. She saw the moment he understood, the way his pupils dilated, the way his lips parted on a silent 'oh'.
“That's good to hear, darling,” her mother said, her voice warm with pride. “You two have always been such a great team. I'm glad he's found his footing in his new role.”
Olivia hummed in agreement, her fingers tracing the rim of the glass again.
“Oh he’s definitely found his footing,” she said, her smile widening as her son grinned back, holding her hips as he fucked her ass. “He has filled all his roles in great ways.”
“That’s wonderful, darling,” her mother replied, oblivious to the double entendre. “I’m so proud of you both. You know, I’ve been thinking. It’s been too long since we’ve all had dinner together. What do you say we plan something for when you’re back from Lake Como?”
Olivia’s breath hitched as Ethan hit a particularly sensitive spot, his cock swelling inside her. “That sounds... wonderful, mum,” she managed to say, her voice a sultry purr. “I’ll... I’ll talk to Ethan about it. See what his schedule looks like.”
“Perfect,” her mother said, her voice warm with satisfaction. “Now tell me, has my grandson finally found a girl ? He’s such a handsome boy, Olivia. I’d love to meet her someday,” her mother’s voice purred through the phone, a soft, teasing note in her tone. Olivia’s fingers tightened around the glass, the cool liquid sloshing against her palm. His breath hitched as she pushed back against him, taking him deeper, her body molding to his with a wet, obscene sound.
“Oh, mum, you know how busy Ethan has been,” Olivia replied, her eyes never leaving Ethan’s reflection in the mirror. His cock was a thick, heavy column inside her, the head swollen and swollen again as he pushed deeper into her ass.
“He does have a happy and willing partner”, she said, “I think he’s busy with her right now. You know how horny these young men can be”.
Eleanor laughed at her daughter’s words, a warm, indulgent sound that filled the line. “Well, as long as he’s happy and safe, that’s all that matters, darling. You make sure he’s taking care of himself, alright?”
“Oh, I do, mum,” Olivia replied, her voice a sultry whisper. “I make sure he’s very well taken care of.”
Ethan’s hand smacked a teasing but loud slap on her ass for that cheeky reply. “Ouch…” Olivia gasped, but her smile was playful, “That hurt, you little shit.”
“Liv, what was that? Sounded like a slap?”, a mildly concerned voice of Eleanor asked from the phone. Ethan's hand stilled, his eyes wide with realization that they might have been overheard. Olivia, however, just laughed, a throaty sound that was part pleasure, part amusement.
"It's just your grandson, mum," she said, her voice steady despite the thick length of Ethan still buried deep in her ass. She winked at him in the mirror, a silent 'I've got this' that made him relax, his hands returning to her hips. “Oh, I see," Eleanor said, her voice filled with understanding. "Wait, didn’t you say he’s with his…umm partner? Honey…?”, a teasing question came back from her.
Olivia chuckled, “Well mum…”, she said, “He’s been so good, so well-behaved, I thought he deserved a little reward. That slap you heard, was him smacking my ass, for my comment”.
“What ? My love what are you saying?”, Eleanor replied, stifling a laugh. Olivia was about to reply when her mother asked, “Are you my darling grandson’s partner? Dear, that’s …” Her voice trailed off, replaced by a soft, knowing chuckle.
Olivia turned her head slightly, her lips curved into a slow, wicked smile as she glanced back at Ethan over her shoulder. His cock was still buried deep inside her, the thick, swollen head pressing against her asshole with every slow, deliberate thrust. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, his knuckles white with the effort of holding back the laughter that threatened to spill out of him.
“Mum,” Olivia said.
Her mother’s silence was deafening for a moment, then came the soft, incredulous laugh.
“Olivia, darling, are you... are you joking?” Eleanor’s voice was filled with disbelief, but there was a hint of something else. Something that sounded like... excitement?
Olivia’s smile widened, her eyes never leaving Ethan’s in the mirror. “I wish I was, mum,” she said, her voice a sultry purr.
Ethan’s hands tightened on her hips, his cock pulsing inside her at the admission. He began to move again, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one a claiming stroke that filled her completely.
“He’s actually fucking my ass as I talk to you. He’s just been so *good* lately, I thought I’d let him have a little fun,” Olivia purred, her voice dripping with seductive confidence as she pushed back against Ethan’s slow, deep thrusts. Her ass clenched around him, milking his cock in a way that made his breath hitch. The mirror behind her reflected the scene in distorted glory—her body bent forward, her round ass high in the air, her fingers still wrapped around the glass of juice, the liquid now sloshing dangerously close to spilling. Her mother’s shocked gasp filled the speaker, but Olivia didn’t care.
She was lost in the sensation of Ethan’s cock filling her, stretching her, the slow, deliberate thrusts driving her towards another orgasm. She could feel the heat building in her belly, the tension coiling in her core like a spring ready to snap.
“Olivia, darling, are you sure about this?” Eleanor’s voice was a distant thing, a faint echo in the back of her mind. “I mean, I’ve always thought you two were close, but this... this is something else.”
Olivia moaned as Ethan hit a particularly sensitive spot, his cock swelling inside her.
“Oh, mum,” she gasped, her voice a sultry whisper, “he’s so big. He fills me up so completely.” She pushed back against him, her ass clenching around his length, her body molding to his with a wet, obscene sound.
“Olivia, darling, I... I don’t know what to say,” Eleanor stammered, her voice filled with shock and something else. Something that sounded like... curiosity? “Is this... is this what you want?”
Olivia’s laugh was a throaty, breathless sound. “Oh, mum, it’s so much more than what I want,” she said, her eyes locked with Ethan’s in the mirror. “He’s been such a great son, such a solid help while I built my career. I gave in once, and then I…I couldn’t stop,” Olivia admitted.
After a soft pregnant pause, her mother’s voice came, “ Oh my God, Liv. I…I’m not sure what to say.”
Olivia’s breath hitched as Ethan’s cock twitched inside her, his fingers digging into her hips. She pushed back against him, her body arching into the pleasure. “Say you’re proud of me, mum.”
“Proud?” Eleanor’s voice cracked with shock. “Olivia, I’m…I’m stunned. I don’t know how to feel about this.”
Olivia’s laugh was breathless, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Mum, you don’t need to feel anything. Just know that I’m happy. I’m happy because I’m with him. It’s been so great since he started fucking me. He’s been so attentive, so caring”.
Eleanor was silent for a moment, then she sighed, a soft, resigned sound. “Alright, darling. If this is what makes you happy, then I’m happy for you. But... be careful, alright? I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Olivia smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at Ethan in the mirror. “I won’t, mum. I promise.”
Eleanor chuckled, a warm, affectionate sound. “Well, I guess continue on love, enjoy getting fucked by your son”, then she spoke again, “Ethan, honey are you there?”.
He replied, his voice a low rumble, “I’m here, grandma. I’m just... enjoying the view.”
Olivia’s eyes widened, her breath hitching as she realized what he was saying. She looked at him in the mirror, her reflection showing her surprise. Ethan just winked at her, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face.
“Oh, Ethan, you naughty boy,” Eleanor chuckled, a warm, indulgent sound. “I can only imagine what you’re seeing. Your mother’s always been a beautiful woman.”
“She’s gorgeous, grandma,” Ethan said, his voice thick with desire.
“I hope you treat her with respect, you’re not forgetting she’s still your mum right?”.
Her voice was warm, almost teasing, but there was a note of genuine concern beneath it. Olivia’s reflection in the mirror was a study in contrasts—her face flushed with pleasure, her lips parted as she panted through the slow, deep thrusts of Ethan’s cock, while her eyes sparkled with mischief. She turned her head slightly, catching his gaze in the glass, and gave him a slow, knowing smile.
Ethan understood the question, “ Grandma, you don’t have to worry about that,” he said, his voice low and confident. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her back against him, and he thrust deeper into her ass. Olivia’s breath hitched as his cock stretched her wide, the wet sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the closet.
“I treat mum with all the respect she deserves, grandma,” Ethan said, “but she often tells me not to, rather just bend her over and fuck her anytime I like”, Olivia clenched her ass on his cock, glaring at his reflection for sharing that , but her eyes were soft, her body betraying her with a moan.
“Oh, Ethan,” Eleanor chuckled, “you two are something else. I’m glad you’re both happy, but remember, communication is key. You need to talk to each other, make sure you’re both on the same page.”
“We do, grandma,” Ethan replied, his voice a low rumble. “We talk about everything. Don’t we, mum?”
Olivia nodded, her eyes locked with Ethan’s in the mirror. “We do,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper. “We talk about everything. Often it does end with me on my knees and my face dripping with his cum,” Olivia added.
The words slipped out of her mouth like a confession, her fingers tracing the condensation on the glass of juice. Ethan’s cock pulsed inside her ass, the thick vein along its length throbbing with every slow retreat. His breath hitched, his fingers digging into her hips like he was trying to hold back something—maybe the laughter, maybe the desire to watch his mother kneel for him.
Eleanor’s voice crackled through the speaker, a mix of shock and amusement. “Olivia, darling, I think I need to sit down.”
Olivia smirked, her eyes never leaving Ethan’s reflection in the mirror.