A steamy reunion

Dinner with the Morettis – A Feast of Forbidden Desires

The Moretti residence was a picturesque Tuscan villa nestled in the hills overlooking the city of Torino, its terracotta walls bathed in the golden hues of sunset. Wisteria vines curled around the arched doorway, their sweet perfume mingling with the rich aroma of garlic, rosemary, and slow-cooked veal wafting from the kitchen.

Stefano stood at the threshold, adjusting his cuffs, the Osiris ring glinting faintly in the fading light.

Time to play.

The incubus true form rippled beneath the setting sun.

Arrival – The Greeting

The door swung open before he could knock.

Maria stood there, her voluptuous curves poured into a dangerously tight emerald-green dress that clung to every dip and swell of her body. The neckline plunged just enough to showcase the heavy swell of her breasts, her cleavage glistening with a faint sheen of sweat from the kitchen heat.

"Stefano," she breathed, her dark eyes drinking him in, her full lips parting.

Behind her, Antonio's voice boomed from the living room. "Maria! Who's—oh, Stefano! Finally!"

Maria flinched, her body tensing as if caught in something illicit, but Stefano merely smiled, stepping forward—into her space—his hand brushing hers as he passed her the bottle of wine he'd brought.

"Thanks for inviting me," he murmured, his fingers lingering against hers just a second too long.

Maria's breath hitched.

Antonio clapped him on the back, his grip firm, his beard scratchy against Stefano's cheek as he pulled him into a rough hug. "None of that formal shit, brother! You're family!"

Stefano smirked over Antonio's shoulder, his gaze locking onto Maria's flushed face.

Oh, if only you knew.

The Kitchen – Appetizers

Antonio dragged him toward the living room where Miranda and her boyfriend—Luca, some scrawny, wide-eyed economics student—sat stiffly on the couch.

But Stefano's attention was pulled back to the kitchen.

"Maria, sweetie, let me help," he said smoothly, already moving toward her before Antonio could protest.

Maria's hips swayed as she led the way, the emerald fabric of her dress stretching taut over her round ass with every step. Stefano followed, his fingers brushing the small of her back as they entered the kitchen.

The moment the door swung shut behind them, Maria whirled, her hands fisting in his shirt, her mouth crashing against his in a ****, hungry kiss.

Stefano groaned into her luscious cocksucking pillow lips, his rough hands gripping the mature woman's wide hips, yanking her against him. Maria moaned, her curvy body melting into his, the lustful mom's tongue sliding against his with a familiarity born of years of stolen moments.

The sound of Antonio's laughter from the living room made her jerk back, her eyes wide.

"O-ohgod," she whispered, her fingers trembling as she smoothed Stefano's rumpled shirt. "We can't—"

Stefano smirked, his hand sliding down to squeeze her ass through the thin fabric. "We can," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. "And we will."

Maria shivered, her thick thighs pressing together.

The oven timer beeped, startling her. She pulled away, flustered, the mature lady's cheeks flushed as she turned to tend to the osso buco.

Stefano leaned against the counter, watching her, his fingers still tingling with the heat of Maria's sinful body.

The Dinner Table – Main Course

Dinner was a symphony of tension.

Antonio dominated the conversation, his booming voice regaling them with stories of rowdy tourists and museum mishaps. Luca sat stiffly, his hands folded in his lap, his eyes darting nervously between Antonio and Miranda.

Miranda, for her part, was watching Stefano.

Her dark eyes—so like her mother's—flickered between him and Maria, her brow furrowing as Maria flinched when Stefano's foot brushed hers beneath the table.

Stefano met her gaze, holding it, his lips quirking in a slow, knowing smile.

Miranda's breath hitched.

Antonio, oblivious, shoved another forkful of veal into his mouth. "Stefano, mangia! Maria slaved over this!"

Maria blushed, her fingers tightening around her wineglass as Stefano's hand slipped onto her thigh beneath the table.

"Delicious," Stefano murmured, his fingers creeping higher, kneading the soft flesh of Maria's inner thigh.

Maria's lips parted, her chest rising rapidly.

Miranda noticed.

Her fork clattered against her plate.

Antonio frowned. "Are you ok, darling?"

Miranda swallowed, her eyes locked on Stefano's face. "Y-yes. Just... hot."

Stefano's fingers dipped beneath the hem of Maria's dress, teasing the lace edge of her panties.

Maria gasped, her wineglass slipping from her fingers.

Antonio lunged, catching it before it could spill. "Careful, Maria!"

Maria's face was scarlet. "S-sorry, I—"

Stefano pinched her inner thigh, his fingers slipping beneath the lace, stroking her wetness.

Maria choked on her breath, her nails digging into the tablecloth.

Miranda stared, her lips slightly parted.

Luca, oblivious, reached for her hand—then flinched back when Antonio's glare snapped toward him.

"What a coward..." A soul fragment, it seemed Miranda didn't appreciate her boyfriend's spineless behavior.

Stefano chuckled, his fingers working Maria with slow, cruel precision.

Dessert – The Breaking Point

Maria fled to the kitchen the moment the plates were cleared, the curvy milf's breath ragged, her legs unsteady.

Stefano followed, his steps unhurried, his body humming with anticipation.

The kitchen was dim, the only light coming from the flickering candles on the counter. Maria stood at the sink, her hands braced against the edge, her back rising and falling with each shaky breath.

Stefano pressed against her, his body caging her in, his lips brushing the nape of her neck.

"Stefano," she whimpered, her hips pushing back against him, her ass grinding against his growing hardness.

His hands gripped her hips, yanking her dress up to her waist, exposing the soaked lace of her panties.

"I missed you so much," he growled, the incubus' teeth sinking into her pale shoulder as his fingers ripped the lace aside, plunging into her without warning.

Maria cried out, her back arching, the mature woman's fingers scrambling for purchase against the sink.

From the dining room, Antonio's laughter rang out, followed by Miranda's hesitant voice.

"M-mom? Do you need help with the—"

The kitchen door creaked open.

Maria froze.

Stefano didn't stop.

Miranda stared, her dark eyes wide, the young woman's luscious red lips parted in shock as she took in the sight—her mother, bent over the sink, Stefano fucking her with his fat fingers, his other hand gripping her hair, yanking the cheating wife's head back.

Maria moaned, the lustful whore's body betraying her again and again, the mature lady's childbearing hips rolling against Stefano's hand.

Miranda's breath hitched.

Then—

She stepped back.

And closed the door.

The Drive Home – Seeds of Corruption

Later, as Stefano glided through the winding hills, his fingers still slick with Maria's arousal, the incubus' phone buzzed.

A text.

From an unknown number.

But he knew who it was.

"I saw you."

Stefano smiled. With one beat of his leathery wings, the incubus dropped down perching his legs on a rooftop in the middle of Piazza Castello's massive royal palace.

"Did you like what you saw, Miranda?"

The typing bubbles appeared.

Disappeared.

Reappeared.

Finally—

"Yes."

Stefano's grip tightened on the wheel.

Game on.