Respect signal #2

Jeremy smirked, suddenly grabbing mom's wrists and twisting them behind her back, pressing her chest forward. "Well guess what? In Russia, it's polite to let guests have a taste of wife of the house. Since Lachlan's dad isn't around..."

Mom raised an eyebrow, still fully seduced. "Yes sir! What do you want to taste again?" Her breasts jiggled as she innocently bobbed up and down.

Jeremy gestured at her breasts. "Your nipples are a sign of youth. By giving them to my mouth, you are fulfilling your duty as a bringer of happiness into the family home." My fists balled up, ready to fight.

Mom gasped, "Oh my! I never knew!" She eagerly pushed her torso towards Jeremy, her perky nipples already hardened from anticipation from underneath the garment. "Please, teach me more!"

Jeremy licked his lips, leaning forward towards mom's breasts. He didn't have to move much—she was already pressing herself against him, practically begging for his mouth.

"Mom! Stop!" I yelled, grabbing Jeremy's shoulder. He shoved me off effortlessly, sending me sprawling onto the floor again.

"See?" Jeremy smirked, now with one hand groping mom's breast while the other pinned her wrists behind her back. "Weak men like your son will never understand true hospitality."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched mom's blouse go completely translucent as Jeremy licked her nipple through the fabric, leaving a dark wet spot. "Am I doing well?" Mom moaned, her hips grinding against nothing—her knees buckling when Jeremy suddenly bit down on the stiff peak.

"You're learning," Jeremy growled, releasing her wrists only to grab two fistfuls of her silky black hair. He continued sucking on mom's nipples from over her blouse. I wondered why he didn't just rid her of the blouse. Perhaps it was to extend my embarrassment - he was keeping the possibility of revealing her, ensuring I would always feel anxious, never comfortable with how far he would go in exploring mom's body.

Jeremy slapped Mom's large breasts. "Tell me, are these fake?" His voice was mocking, knowing full well they were natural—the way they jiggled with every movement gave that away. Mom whimpered, her cheeks flushed as she shook her head rapidly. "N-no! They're—ah!—real!" she gasped when his fingers dug into her soft flesh, kneading roughly.

I scrambled to my feet, but Jeremy shot me a warning glare—one hand still tangled in Mom's hair, the other now twisting her nipples. "Stay down, runt," he hissed. Mom let out a little giggle, her eyes half-lidded, as if this were some game. "He’s right, honey. You wouldn’t want to interrupt our... cultural exchange, would you?" Her voice was sweet, unknowing.