Tag Archive: sexy slut

The door clicks shut, and finally, the house is ours. Your father just left to whisk his wife away for a “romantic” Valentine’s dinner, leaving you here alone with me. Being a Sexy Milf means I know exactly how to spend my evening when the house is empty and the air is thick with tension. 

He thinks he’s being a good provider, but he has no idea that the real treasure is sitting right here on the velvet sofa, nursing a glass of red wine and watching you. You’re nineteen now, tall and filling out that shirt in all the right places, yet you still have that nervous habit of looking away when our eyes meet.

Come closer, baby. I can feel the heat radiating off your chest from across the room, and I’m tired of the polite distance we’ve been keeping. Don’t look so shocked; a woman like me knows exactly what a young man is thinking when he thinks he’s being subtle. 

You’ve spent months watching me from the hallway, catching glimpses of me in silk robes, wondering what it would be like to actually touch what your father takes for granted. Tonight, the “stepmom” act is taking a backseat. Tonight, I’m your private fantasy, your naughty little secret, and I’m going to show you exactly how a real woman… an experienced woman… takes care of business.

Sit down at my feet. Yes, right there. I want to feel your breath on my knees while I run my fingers through your hair. Your father is a predictable man; he likes the lights off and the routine steady. But you? You have that fire in your eyes, that raw, unspent hunger that only a younger boy possesses. 

You’ve been playing with girls your own age, haven’t you? Sweet, clumsy girls who don’t know the first thing about a man’s body. They don’t know how to read the rhythm of your heart or how to push you just to the edge of losing control before pulling back. But I do.

I’m going to teach you things tonight that will ruin you for anyone else. I’m going to show you the difference between a girl and a real woman. As I lean down, the scent of my perfume filling your senses, I want you to remember that this is our little Valentine’s gift to one another. Your father is out buying chocolates and roses, but I’m giving you something much more intimate. 

I’m giving you the experience you’ve been dreaming about every time you heard my shower running. Close your eyes, lean back, and let me show you why experience always wins. You’re in my hands now, and I promise, by the time I’m through with you, you won’t even remember your own name.

Ebony

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