New experience

**Home**

Avery stepped through the front door and immediately smelled the faint scent of Martha’s perfume. She was on the couch in a soft robe, legs tucked under her, watching something on the television. The moment she saw him her eyes dropped to the way he walked—still a little careful from Evelyn—and a slow, knowing smile curved her lips.

He walked over, leaned down, and kissed her. Martha returned it without hurry, one hand sliding up the back of his neck.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, baby.” She patted the cushion beside her. “Sit. Tell me about your day.”

Avery settled against her side. Martha’s arm went around his shoulders, and after a minute her free hand slipped under his sweater. Soft fingers found one of his nipples and began to play with it absently—rolling, pinching lightly—while he talked.

He told her about the bookstore first: how busy it had been, how the older women kept staring, how a few had tried to give him their numbers and how he’d politely refused. Martha listened, occasionally giving his nipple a firmer twist that made his breath hitch.

Then he mentioned the party.

“Skye invited me tomorrow night,” he said quietly. “Private. Some of her friends. She already told them I’m… open.”

Martha’s fingers stilled for a second, then resumed their slow circles.

“Did she.”

It wasn’t a question. Avery nodded against her shoulder. Martha didn’t say anything else for a while. She just kept playing with him, thoughtful and possessive, until the television show ended.

Around seven she finally stood.

“I’ll start dinner. Blair should be home soon.”

She kissed the top of his head and disappeared into the kitchen.

Blair walked through the front door twenty minutes later, cheeks a little flushed from the evening air. She spotted Avery still on the couch, grinned, and crossed the room in three long strides. She leaned down and kissed him—deeper than a simple hello, tongue briefly brushing his—before straightening.

“Missed that,” she said. “I’m gonna change. Be right back.”

She took the stairs two at a time. Martha called from the kitchen that dinner would be ready in half an hour. Avery stayed on the couch a little longer, listening to the ordinary sounds of the house, until he heard Blair’s bedroom door open again… and then nothing. No footsteps coming down.

He stood and climbed the stairs quietly.

The bathroom door was cracked open. Soft yellow light spilled into the hallway. Avery stepped closer and looked through the gap.

Blair sat on the toilet, oversized shirt pushed up around her waist, soft cock resting against her thigh. She was scrolling on her phone with one hand, clearly waiting to pee.

Avery’s own cock twitched hard inside his skirt.

He pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside.

Blair’s head snapped up. “Avery—what—”

He didn’t answer. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled across the cool tile toward her. Blair watched, frozen, as he settled between her spread knees. He reached up, gently lifted her soft cock with both hands, and brought the head to his lips. He kissed it once, then opened his mouth and took the tip inside, sucking slowly, tongue working the underside.

Blair’s breath left her in a shaky rush.

“Fuck… Avery, I need to—”

He only sucked harder, looking up at her through his lashes.

That was all it took.

Blair’s head tipped back against the wall as the first stream of piss left her. The warm, salty flood filled Avery’s mouth. He swallowed greedily, throat working, sucking like he was drinking milk straight from the source. Blair’s free hand tangled in his hair, not pushing him away, just holding on as the relief and the pleasure mixed. Soft, broken sounds slipped from her throat while Avery kept nursing at her cock, drinking every drop until the stream finally slowed and stopped.

Only then did he pull off with a wet little sound, lick the last drops from the tip, and rest his cheek against her thigh, looking up at her with flushed cheeks and shiny lips.

Blair stared down at him, breathing hard, soft cock still twitching in his hand.

“…You’re unreal,” she whispered.

Blair’s fingers stayed tangled in his hair for a long moment. Avery didn’t move. He just kept his cheek against her warm thigh, occasionally giving the softening head of her cock another lazy lick, tasting the last traces of piss and skin.

Blair let out a shaky laugh.

“You’re actually serious about this stuff,” she said quietly. “Mom wasn’t exaggerating.”

Avery only looked up at her, cheeks still pink, and gave a small nod.

Blair exhaled, then gently tugged him upward by the hair until he was kneeling between her legs. She leaned down and kissed him—slow, deep, clearly tasting herself on his tongue. When she pulled back she rested her forehead against his.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” she murmured. “We should go down before Mom comes looking. But later…” Her free hand slid down and squeezed his ass through the short skirt. “Later you’re finishing what you started.”

Avery’s cock twitched. “Okay.”

Blair stood, flushed the toilet, and washed her hands while Avery stayed on his knees watching her. She glanced at him in the mirror, smirked, and tossed him a washcloth.

“Clean your face, slut. You look like you’ve been drinking from a fountain.”

He did as he was told, then followed her downstairs.

Martha was setting plates on the table when they walked into the kitchen. She took one look at Avery’s still-flushed cheeks and the way Blair’s hand rested low on his back, and her eyebrows rose slightly.

“Everything all right?” she asked, voice mild.

Blair answered first. “Just fine. Avery was being helpful upstairs.”

Martha’s gaze lingered on her son for a second longer. Then she smiled, slow and dark.

“Good. Sit. Both of you.”

Dinner was quiet at first—ordinary conversation about Blair’s friends, the bookstore, weekend plans. Under the table, though, Martha’s foot found Avery’s ankle and stayed there, rubbing slowly. Halfway through the meal her toes slid higher, pressing against the soft bulge under his skirt. Avery kept eating, voice soft whenever he answered a question, while his mother casually teased him.

Blair watched the whole thing with open interest, occasionally reaching over to brush crumbs from the corner of Avery’s mouth or rest her hand on his thigh.

When the plates were empty Martha stood and began collecting them.

“Blair, help me with the dishes. Avery, stay right there.”

Blair shot him a quick, heated look before following their mother to the sink. Avery stayed seated, skirt tented, listening to the quiet clink of plates and the low murmur of their voices. He couldn’t make out the words, but he heard Martha’s soft laugh and Blair’s answering hum.

A few minutes later both women returned. Martha dried her hands on a towel, walked straight to him, and tipped his chin up with two fingers.

“Upstairs,” she said simply. “Both of you. My room.”

Blair’s smile was slow and hungry.

Avery stood on slightly unsteady legs and followed them.