She turned, the towel tucked precariously over her chest, and walked out of the ensuite. I followed, my gaze locked onto the sway of her hips. As we stepped into the master bedroom, the atmosphere shifted. The light was dimmer here, focused on the massive charcoal silk bed.

​Holmes and Lana Grande were already positioned in the shadows, their eyes glued to the monitors. The cameramen moved like ghosts, one circling to the far side of the bed to catch the wide angle, the other staying tight on our faces.

​Yolanda stopped at the edge of the bed. She didn't wait for a cue. She reached for the knot in her towel and let it drop. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her standing completely bare in the center of the room.

Under the studio lights, her body was a map of mature perfection—the heavy, swaying weight of her breasts, the soft curve of her belly, and the glistening, dark invitaiton between her thick thighs.

​"The cameras are on, Druski," Holmes muttered from the darkness, his voice thick with anticipation. "Give the fans what they've been waiting for."

I didn't need to be told twice. I stepped out of my joggers, my cock springing free, thick and fully engorged, pulsing with every beat of my heart. Yolanda's eyes dropped immediately, her breath catching as she tracked the size and weight of it.

​She sat back on the charcoal silk, leaning on her elbows. She slowly drew her knees up and spread them wide, a shameless, inviting gesture that showcased the inner sanctum of her mature beauty.

The sight was staggering—the outer mahogany skin giving way to a glistening, vivid pink center that was already weeping with anticipation.

​"Tell me the truth, Druski," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of character and real-fetched lust. "Have you ever really licked a pussy before? Not just a quick swipe, but truly tasted a woman?"

​She let out a bitter, airy laugh that made her heavy breasts shudder. "Your father... he's useless. He treats me like a piece of furniture. He hasn't put his tongue there in years. He's bad at it, Druski. He's so bad at it."

​I walked to the edge of the bed, my shadow falling over her spread-eagle form. I looked her dead in the eye, my voice a low, dangerous rumble that echoed in the quiet room.

​"The old man is a loser, Yolanda," I said, the "Step-son" persona merging perfectly with my own ego. "Neglecting a classy, high-end woman like you? That's a crime. He doesn't deserve to even look at this, let alone touch it."

​She beckoned me closer, her fingers curling in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. "Then show me. Show me what a real man can do for his mother."

​I crawled onto the bed, moving between her legs. The scent of her—the expensive soap mixed with the raw, musky perfume of her arousal—was overwhelming. I gripped her thick, soft thighs, my thumbs digging into her skin as I pulled her closer to the edge of the silk.

​I leaned down, my face inches from her heat. I could see the tiny tremors in her labia, the way she was pulsing for me. I didn't rush. I let my tongue dart out, just barely grazing her clitoris, and she let out a scream that probably echoed all the way down the hall of the brownstone.

I didn't hold back. I buried my face into her, my tongue finding the swollen, sensitive peak of her clitoris with the precision of a surgeon. The taste of her was intoxicating—salty, sweet, and searing hot.

​Yolanda's reaction was explosive. Her hips bucked off the charcoal silk, her fingers clawing at the sheets as she let out a jagged, raw scream. "Oh, God! Yes, Druski! Use that tongue! You're already ten times the man your father ever was!"

​As I worked her with a relentless, flicking rhythm, my hands weren't idle. I reached up, my palms cupping the immense weight of her breasts. They were heavy and warm, spilling out between my fingers as I squeezed them firmly, rolling her dark nipples between my thumbs. I moved my hands down, my nails lightly grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, pulling her legs even wider to give myself total access.

​"Look at you," she hissed, her voice a filthy, breathless rasp. "My little stepson... devouring me like a starved animal. I knew you were watching me in that tub... I knew you wanted to taste how wet I was for you. Don't stop... don't you dare stop!"

​She began to ramble, her dirty talk becoming more frantic as she neared the edge. "Eat it all, Druski. Clean up the mess your father left behind. Show me how a real King treats a woman like me!"

​Her internal muscles began to pulse against my face, a rhythmic clenching that told me she was seconds away from shattered. I increased the pressure, my tongue swirling deep into her folds while my hands kneaded her breasts with a possessive grip.

With one final, earth-shattering moan, she stiffened, her back arching so high her head nearly touched the headboard, and she flooded.

​I stayed there, holding her through the aftershocks, listening to her ragged breathing and the sound of the cameras whirring in the silence.

I sat back on the edge of the bed, the charcoal silk cool against my skin, and looked down at her. My cock was standing like a pillar of heat, throbbing with the momentum of the scene. I didn't care that the cameras were still rolling or that Holmes was watching from the shadows—this was about dominance now.

​"Get down here, Yolanda," I commanded, my voice dropping an octave. I gripped the base of my shaft, presenting it to her like a trophy. "Suck it. I want you to show me you can handle a real man. Suck it better than you ever did for that loser husband of yours."

​She slid off the bed with a graceful, hungry motion, her knees hitting the plush carpet between my feet. She looked up at me through her lashes, her eyes dark and glazed with a submissive heat.

​She began to tease me, her lips curling into a "naughty step-mother" smirk. She leaned in close, her warm breath hitching against the sensitive head of my cock, but she didn't touch it. Instead, she used the tip of her nose to nuzzle the shaft, inhaling my scent deeply.

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A/N: Thank you all for making it this far. I appreciate your support. You've been incredible pillars in this journey. There's still a lot of events to cover. I would like to say that we are just getting started. Hope to see you in the finish line.

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