Hell, if they’d been watching from the driveway, my entire family would’ve gotten a front-row show. Luna was climbing out now with her sweater still gaping, tits spilling out as she adjusted herself—the same tits that had been bouncing in Jeremy’s face while she straddled him in the back seat all the way up the last stretch.
He’d kept her there, grinding on him, edging her the whole time. Drawing it out, making her squirm, refusing to let her come until the tires rolled over the gravel of my parents’ driveway.
She was flushed and restless, wound so tight she might combust, and I was standing here with a cum stain on my jeans and the image of her moaning, begging him for release, burned so deep into my brain.
We made our way up the walkway, Luna’s arm looped through mine while Jeremy followed a few steps behind, hands shoved in his coat pockets like he hadn’t had her riding him for twenty minutes straight.
“If your mom only knew how deep your cock was buried?—”
The door swung open.
“—in my mouth,” she finished, a wicked smirk curling her lips.
Of course, there stood my mother. Hair perfectly blow-dried, sweater dress hugging her frame, eyes going wide, telling me she’d heard every goddamn word.
For half a second, no one moved.
Luna’s smirk only grew, and I did the only thing I could—stepped forward, scooped my mom into a hug, and held her there before she could open her mouth.
“Hi, Mama,” I whispered.
If I sounded sweet enough, she’d hopefully forget the fact that her future daughter-in-law implied she’d gotten railed in the driveway.
“Hi,” Luna said sweetly.
My mom’s eyes lit up, and she reached out to cup Luna’s cheek. “Oh, hi, sweetheart—you’re the girl my boy keeps yammering on about.”
“That I am.”
When she stepped aside, I glanced back toward the porch. Jeremy was still out there, hands in his pockets.
“Hey, Mama,” I said, motioning him forward. “This is Jeremy—he’s a friend of mine, too.”
Jeremy offered her a polite smile, and she surprised him by pulling him right into a hug. “Nice to meet you. I like your tattoos,” she said, her gaze flicking over his arms.
“Thanks, ma’am,” he mumbled, a little thrown off.
“Come on in, all of you,” Mom said, stepping aside. “Oh, Dirks, I made your favorite.”
I groaned. “No, Mama. I told you, it’s not?—”
“What is it?” Luna cut in, curiosity written all over her face.
I sighed. “It’s a Midwest delicacy . . . ”
“Frog eye salad,” Mom announced proudly.
Jeremy snorted behind me, and I turned, shooting him a look that saidDon’t start. He held up his hands in mock surrender.
Mom turned back to Luna like she was revealing a family secret. “It’s pasta, fruit, whipped cream, marshmallows... and tapioca.”
Luna blinked, forcing a smile. “Oh wow. That’s... unique.”
Dani walked out next, her husband Tom trailing behind with their two kids in tow, Carter and Chloe, the very picture of a polished, small-town, Midwest family entrance.
“Hi,” Chloe, the four-year-old, said shyly to Luna before her eyes lit up. “Iloveyour outfit!”
Luna grinned and gave a little twirl so her yellow sweater flared with her skirt. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
