Caught with your dick in your hand

You can’t stop watching.

The video of Mrs. Steel and your mom is already an hour long, and you’ve never made it more than twenty minutes before your hand takes over. This is the third time this week. You’re on your bed, phone propped against a pillow, pants shoved down around your thighs, fist working your cock in tight, desperate strokes while the two of them scissor and 69 on screen. Mrs. Steel’s tongue is buried in your mom’s cunt again. Your mom’s moans come through the speakers raw and continuous. The wet sounds fill the quiet room.

You’re so locked on the way your mom’s thighs clamp around your boss’s head that you don’t hear the bedroom door open.

“Is that one your favorite?”

Your hand freezes mid-stroke. You whip your head around.

Your mom is standing just inside the doorway in her tight workout gear—sports bra and short leggings, skin still glistening with sweat from her run. The gold chain rests against her damp cleavage. Her dark braid is a little messy. She doesn’t look shocked. She looks amused.

She steps closer, eyes flicking from the phone screen to your exposed, throbbing cock.

“I mean, I get it,” she says, voice easy and warm. “I love women too. God knows they’re more giving than your father ever was. But I still enjoy a good fat cock.” She tilts her head, watching your face. “Do you like watching Mommy take cocks too?”

You swallow hard and slowly nod.

Her smile softens, but it doesn’t get any less sharp.

“Or are you still too insecure to enjoy watching women take nice big dicks in porn?”

The question hits you square in the chest.

“What? I’m not insecure. I… I don’t just— I mean, I don’t only watch lesbian porn!”

The words come out tangled. You don’t normally stumble like that, but having your mom stand there—sweaty, calm, catching you red-handed with the exact video she arranged—has your brain short-circuiting.

She steps right up to the edge of the bed, reaches down without hesitation, and wraps her warm, slightly damp hand around your cock. She gives it one slow, measuring stroke, thumb brushing over the head.

“Well,” she murmurs, “at least it’s a little bigger than the last time I saw you hard.”

She keeps her fingers loosely wrapped around you, not really stroking, just holding, while her eyes stay on yours.

“You can tell me about the one that should be hitting your phone any second now.”

As if on cue, your phone dings with a new message.

Your mom’s smile widens just a fraction. She gives your cock one more gentle squeeze, then lets go and straightens up.

“Don’t stop on my account, baby. I’ll be downstairs whenever you’re ready to talk about the next one.”

She turns and walks out, leaving the door open behind her. The scent of her sweat mixes with the still-playing moans of her and Mrs. Steel. Your phone sits there with the new unread message waiting, your cock still hard and wet from her brief touch, and the clear knowledge that she caught you—and she isn’t finished with you yet.