A Taboo Trio

It had been a few weeks since that tense dinner with my girlfriend’s mother, and I was crashing at Lily’s place for the night.

We’d spent the evening at a club with friends, the music pulsing through us, and now we were in an Uber, riding a wave of adrenaline and desire. Her mom was home, but her brothers were at their dad’s for the weekend, leaving us some freedom.

Lily was buzzed from a few cocktails, her laughter loose and her eyes sparkling with mischief, but she was still in control. I’d had a beer or two, just enough to feel warm but fully aware. She pressed close, her breath hot against my ear, promising to drain me dry tonight. I shot back, teasing about finally claiming that one boundary she’d always guarded fiercely. She giggled, shaking her head, saying she’d let me finish where she usually allowed, but that spot? “I’m wild, but not that wild,” she purred, her voice a playful challenge.

The driver kept stealing glances in the rearview mirror, so I upped the ante, sliding Lily’s dress up her thighs to reveal her sheer black stockings and a glimpse of her red lace panties, the fabric hugging her curves like a second skin.

We pulled up to her building, and I tipped the driver as we spilled out, practically sprinting inside. Instead of the elevator, I pulled her into the dimly lit maintenance room by the lobby, the air thick with the hum of electrical panels. The second the door clicked shut, she dropped to her knees, her fingers deftly unzipping me. Her lips were soft but urgent, teasing with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue, her eyes locked on mine as she worked, the faint buzz of the room amplifying the intensity. I pulled her up, spun her around, and tugged her panties aside, pressing myself against her. The angle was tight, her body trembling as I entered her, each thrust deep and rhythmic, her gasps sharp against the concrete walls. She arched back, her hands gripping a pipe for balance, her moans growing louder as I set a relentless pace, her dress bunched around her waist.

I was determined to push her limits tonight, craving the one thing she’d always denied me-a prize her mom, with her fuller curves, didn’t hold a candle to Lily’s toned, perfect rear.

I eased back, zipping up with effort, and she whined in protest, her cheeks flushed. Grabbing her wrist, I led her to the elevator. As it hummed toward the tenth floor, I pushed her against the mirrored wall, lifting her dress again. I entered her from behind, her favorite position, her body molding to mine. I hit the stop button, trapping us in the moment, and went deeper, her thighs quivering as I gripped her hips, the mirror reflecting every angle of her pleasure-her parted lips, her half-closed eyes, the way her body rocked with each thrust.

L: You’re killing me tonight, Jake. The drinks, that joint I shared with Mia, and this-you’re making me lose my mind.
J: I’m taking all of you tonight – every last bit.
L: Not there, you’re not.
J: I’ll find it somewhere else then, huh?
L: If I’m not enough, just say it.
J: That’s mine – one way or another.
L: Dream on.

I kept going, her reflection in the mirror showing every shudder, my hands firm on her waist as I pushed her to the edge.

We reached the tenth floor, and she fumbled with her keys, barely getting the door open before I was on her again, her hand clamped over her mouth to stifle her cries. But as we stumbled into the living room, my blood ran cold. Her mom, Sandra, was on the couch, the TV glowing with a video from weeks ago-me and her, unmistakable, her moans loud and explicit, begging for something Lily had never given. The screen showed every detail, her curves bouncing as I took her in a way that left no question.

My body froze, desire crashing to a halt.

Lily’s scream pierced the air.

L: Mom! You’re disgusting – how could you?! And you, Jake, with my mom?! You’re scum!

She swung at me, her hand grazing my cheek as I ducked. She crumpled to the floor, sobbing into her hands. I slammed the door shut. Sandra rushed to her, but Lily pushed her away, tears streaming. Sandra signaled for me to stay put and led Lily to the kitchen.

S: Let me get you some chamomile, honey – we’ll sort this out.
L: You’re a liar – I’ll never forgive you!

Chamomile? I thought, shaking my head. This woman’s something else.

From the hallway, I caught snippets of muffled cries and sharp accusations. Sandra passed by, heading to her room, and threw me a sly wink, lifting her top just enough to flash me before disappearing.

After what felt like an eternity, Sandra returned. “Come in, Jake – we’re talking this through.” Two empty mugs sat on the counter. Lily’s eyes were distant, her anger softened to an eerie calm. Sandra, though, was beaming, her smile almost too bright, like she was high on the chaos.

I started to speak, but Sandra pressed a finger to my lips, leaning in to whisper that tonight was about to get unforgettable – for all of us. I mentioned Lily’s joint with Mia, and Sandra’s grin widened. “Oh, this is going to be a riot,” she said, then knelt right there, her hands quick and confident, reigniting the fire. Lily watched, silent, then joined her, their movements synchronized. Lily tugged Sandra’s blouse down, her hands kneading, lips exploring, the air thick with their shared rhythm.