A Short Resolution

You stand there in the middle of the living room with the video still playing on your phone—Josh’s thick short cock, the algebra girl, your mom’s face streaked with cum. Instead of rage, something else hits you hard and low. You’re rock hard in your pants, throbbing almost painfully, the mix of humiliation and raw heat making your head spin.

You decide to go all in.

Maybe fucking her will end the madness.

You set the phone down (still playing) and walk into the kitchen where she’s leaning against the counter in that short night shirt, nipples clearly visible, bare ass half-exposed underneath. She looks up, sees the expression on your face and the obvious bulge, and raises one eyebrow.

“Something on your mind, baby?”

You don’t answer with words. You step in close, grab her by the waist, and kiss her hard. She lets it happen for a few seconds—lets you press against her, lets you feel how hard you are—then pulls back just enough to speak against your mouth.

“So that’s where we’re at. All right.”

She reaches down, yanks your pants and boxers open, and wraps her warm hand around your cock. The second her fingers close around it she lets out a soft, almost pitying little laugh.

“There it is. Same little dick Mommy’s been comparing to everyone else’s.”

She starts stroking you with tight, expert twists of her wrist—fast, focused, no teasing. Her thumb swipes over the head on every upstroke, spreading the precum that’s already leaking. The night shirt is still on; her bare ass is pressed against the counter; her nipples poke clearly through the thin fabric while she works you.

“You’re really going to try and fuck Mommy with this?” she murmurs, voice soft and amused. “After everything you’ve seen? After Josh’s thick soda-can cock? After all the ones that actually stretched me open?”

You’re already breathing hard, hips twitching into her fist. The humiliation and the fact that it’s her hand make it impossible to last. She feels it immediately and speeds up, grip perfect and merciless.

“That’s it… cum for Mommy like a good little boy. Show me how fast that tiny thing goes off.”

Thirty seconds after she first touched you, you do.

You cum hard—thick spurts pumping over her fingers and the underside of her night shirt—while a broken sound leaves your throat. She keeps stroking you through every pulse, milking it all out until you’re oversensitive and shaking.

Then she lifts her hand, looks at the mess, and slowly licks her fingers clean one by one, eyes locked on yours the entire time. When she finishes she gives a low, genuine laugh.

“Thirty seconds. Not even. Mommy barely had to try.”

She wipes the last bit from the corner of her mouth with her thumb, still smiling.

“That’s what you get for thinking this little dick was going to ‘end the madness.’ Go clean yourself up, baby. We’ll talk about how cute that was later.”

She turns back to the counter like nothing major just happened, night shirt still riding high on her bare ass, leaving you standing there spent, sticky, and more lost in it than before.