Chapter 97: Gentle

She took me back in, and the gentle part was already over.

My hand stayed in her hair because she had put it there. Evelyn set the pace herself, wet and steady, tongue flat under the head on every pull back, lips tight on the way down. The sound was filthy in the quiet room. Spit and the taste of both of us. She didn’t look away. When I thickened fully she hummed like she had won something, and the hum went through me.

“Mom.”

She pulled off just long enough to speak, a string of spit connecting her lip to the head. “I know. Don’t warn me like it’s a problem. I told you where. Hold my hair if you want. Don’t push. I’ll take it.”

She took it. Deeper. Her hand worked what her mouth left, slick, twisting at the top the way she had in the shower, only now there was no napkin waiting. I felt the edge gather low and fast. She felt it in the jump of me and sped up, not cruel, hungry. Eyes up. Cheeks flushed. The mark of her own teeth on her lower lip when she had to breathe.

“Close,” I said, because she had asked for it once and the habit stuck.

She didn’t stop. She sank down and stayed, tongue working, and I came in her mouth in hard pulses, groaning, hips jerking once before I caught them. Evelyn swallowed. I felt her throat. She stayed on me through the last weak spill, then pulled off slow, licked the head clean, and sat back on her heels with her mouth wet and her chest rising.

“There,” she said. Voice rough. “That’s the one I kept off the menu. It tastes like us. I like it. Don’t make a face like I did you a favor. I wanted it.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.” She wiped her chin with the back of her hand and looked at the shine, then sucked her thumb clean without the old flinch. “Come here. Kiss me. I want you to taste it too. Then I’m not done. You’re not done. We have the house and we have the night and I am finished pretending one finish is a chapter.”

I kissed her. Salt. Her. Me. She opened into it and climbed back into my lap, naked, warm, the mess on her thigh smearing my stomach. She reached between us, found me soft and sensitive, and stroked lightly, almost idle.

“Give me a minute and you’ll be hard,” she said. “I can feel it trying. While we wait, put your mouth on me. I’ve come on your cock. I haven’t come on your tongue tonight. Fix that.”

She lay back. I went down. She was swollen, slick, open, the taste of us thick on her. I licked her clean first, long strokes, and she sighed like relief. Then I focused. Tongue on her clit, two fingers sliding in easy, curling. She grabbed the sheet. Her hips rolled up into my mouth.

“Yes. Like that. Don’t rush it. I want it slow and then I want it mean.”

I gave her slow. Circles. A suck. Fingers pumping lazy. She got louder. Her thighs tried to close and I held them open, and she let me, one hand dropping to my hair.

“Mean now,” she said. “Suck. Faster. I want to soak your mouth.”

I sucked. Faster. Fingers driving. She broke on a cry, pussy clenching on my hand, a rush of wet against my tongue, hips jerking. I stayed on her through it, licking softer as she shook, until she pushed at my forehead and laughed, wrecked.

“Enough. God. Up. In me. You’re hard. I can see it. Don’t wait for a speech.”

I was hard. I slid into her in one stroke, the new wetness and the old mess making it obscene. She locked her legs and pulled me down into a kiss that tasted like her orgasm. I fucked her deep and even. She met every thrust. No fences. Her nails in my shoulders. Her mouth on my neck, which she had once forbidden me, now hers to take.

“Harder,” she said. “I can take it. I want to feel it tomorrow and not be angry about it.”

I gave her harder. The bed knocked the wall. She didn’t care. She was wet enough that every stroke sounded like a kiss turned filthy. I rubbed her clit with my thumb and she sobbed a yes, coming again, smaller, gripping me so tight I had to fight to keep moving. I fought. She liked the fight.

“Inside again,” she gasped. “Fill me. I want to leak while you watch. Then you’re going to put it back in and we’re going to lie here until one of us sleeps. No couch. No click. You stay.”

I buried and came, pulsing deep, her name against her throat. She held me with her whole body, ankles crossed, arms tight, milking what she could. When it ended she didn’t let go. A slow leak escaped around me anyway. She felt it and smiled, tired and filthy.

“Look,” she said. “Then stay. I’m serious about the staying. I’ve had enough of sending you to the front room like a guest. You’re not a guest.”

I looked. White and clear at the seal, her pussy stretched around me, fluttering. She reached down and pushed a trickle back in with two fingers, beside my cock, and shivered.

“Greedy,” she murmured. “You said it. Keep saying it if I get shy. I might get shy in the morning. Tonight I’m not shy. Tonight I want you soft inside me and then hard again if it happens, and if it doesn’t we sleep like this until we can’t.”

We shifted onto our sides, still joined, her leg over mine. The leak slowed. Her hand found mine and put it on her breast, no edge, no rib, the whole soft weight.

“Hold that,” she said. “Not a test. I like your hand there. Kiss me once and then be quiet unless you want more. If you want more, say so. I’ll probably say yes. I’m disgusting and happy. Don’t ruin it with a rule.”

I kissed her once. Held her breast. Stayed inside.

She was quiet long enough that I thought the sleep had chosen. Then she clenched, deliberate, and spoke against my mouth.

“More,” she said. “Slow. From the side. And when you’re close, tell me. I want to decide if this one goes in my pussy or back in my mouth. I’m allowed to be greedy twice.”

I started to move, slow, and she smiled like the night had finally matched her.

I moved slow from the side, and she decided before I was close.

“Pussy,” Evelyn said. “This one stays. Mouth later if you get hard again. I’m not rationing. I’m choosing.”

She hooked her leg higher over my hip so I could get deeper. The angle was lazy and filthy, a long drag out, a slow fill in, the mess from before squelching softly every time I bottomed. Her breast filled my hand. I thumbed her nipple and she shivered, pushing back onto me.

“Good,” she murmured. “Just like that. Don’t speed up to finish. I want to feel all of it.”

I kept it slow. She kissed me between strokes, open, tasting herself. Her hand slipped down and rubbed her clit in time with me, small circles, and the flutter started around my cock.

“I’m going to come again,” she said, almost surprised. “Stay deep when I do. Then you.”

She came quietly this time, a long clench, wet pulse, her mouth open against mine, hips jerking in little rolls. I stayed deep. When it eased she nodded, breathless.

“Now. Fill me. Slow till the last second, then hold.”

I stroked through the aftershocks until the edge hit, then buried and came, thick, pulsing into her, groaning into her hair. She held me there with her leg and her hand on my ass, taking it, whispering yes, stay, good. A fresh leak followed when I softened. She didn’t push it back this time. She let it run, warm, over both of us, and laughed once.

“Bed’s a disaster,” she said. “Worth it. Don’t you dare get up for a towel unless I ask. I like the mess on my thigh.”

We lay in it. Joined until I slipped free. She turned onto her back, legs loose, and looked at the ceiling, chest still rising hard.

“Come here,” she said. “Head on my stomach. I want your mouth near me while I catch my breath. Not working. Just near. Then I’ll tell you what I want next, or I’ll fall asleep on you. Both are fine.”

I laid my head on her stomach. She stroked my hair. The room smelled like sex and her. Her pussy glistened, leaking slow onto the sheet. She didn’t close her legs.

“I meant the apology,” she said, quieter. “The controlling. I won’t do the codes again. If I slip, you can tell me I’m doing it, and I’ll stop. That’s the only rule I’m keeping. One. And it’s on me.”

“Okay.”

“Not okay like a student. Okay like you heard me.”

“I heard you.”

“Good.” Her fingers paused in my hair. “Next. I want you hard again, and I want to ride you until I can’t, and then I want to suck you clean after. In that order. If you’re too spent, say so. I’ll kiss you and sleep. I’m not collecting finishes like points.”

“I can get hard.”

“Then do it while you lie there. Touch me if it helps. I’m sensitive. Be nice about it until I’m not.”

I turned my face and kissed her stomach, then lower, a soft lick over her clit. She hissed and didn’t push me away. I licked her slow, tasting us, until she was rolling her hips again and I was hard against the sheet. She felt me shift and smiled.

“Up,” she said. “Sit back. I’m climbing on. Hold my hips and let me use you. If I get shy, remind me I asked for this.”

I sat back against the headboard. She swung a leg over and sank down, both of us groaning at the slide, sloppy and perfect. She stayed seated a moment, full, hands on my shoulders.

“Mine,” she said, and started to ride.

Slow at first, grinding, then a proper bounce when the angle hit. Her tits moved. I held her hips the way she had wanted earlier, pulling her down. She nodded, mouth open, and went harder. Wet slap. Her clit grinding on every drop. She came fast, surprising herself, crying out, pussy milking me, and she didn’t stop riding.

“Keep me going,” she gasped. “I’m not done. You neither.”

She rode me through the shudder and into another build, sweat on her throat, hair stuck to her cheek, looking at me like she had finally stopped managing the picture. I was close. She saw it.

“Not yet,” she said. “Hold it. I want one more. Then you can flood me and I’ll lick it out of myself off your cock. Greedy. Say it.”

“You’re greedy, mom.”

“Yes.” She grinned, ruined and happy, and rolled her hips meaner. “Again. And don’t come until I say. I can feel you trying. Be good for a different reason tonight.”

I held it. She chased the next one, filthy and free, and the night was nowhere near done.