They moved rapidly, their movements frantic. Ethan yanked on his shorts, his cock still half-erect as he hastily stuffed it back into his boxers. Mrs. Willow yanked on her clothing, her hands trembling as she tried to hide the sticky wetness between her legs.
"Hurry," she whispered, looking toward the door.
Ethan moved in a rush, pulling his shirt and redoing his pants. His half-raised cock was still sticking out, and he had to settle in before he moved to the bathroom. Mrs. Willow gasped sharply, trying to compose herself as she heard his footsteps disappear down the corridor.
She buttoned her shirt and shorts on with trembling hands, the cloth sticking to the dampness on her skin. She looked once again at the disheveled bed, evidence of their secret encounter, before she rushed to the door. She opened it, and the spicy, warm smell of her husband's perfume and the thud of his shoes on the stairs welcomed her.
"Honey, I'm home!" Mr. Willow boomed, his keys jingling.
Mrs. Willow gulped, her heart racing. "Welcome back," she said, her voice better than she was feeling. "I'll fix dinner."
Mr. Willow moved in for a kiss, and she caught the faint scent of Ethan's presence on her lips. She recoiled, pretending to be busy with pots and pans. "I'll be right down," she promised him, a little too high.
"Take your time," he said to her, his own lips curving in a way that implied he knew. "I'm going to wash up first."
Mrs. Willow listened as her husband's footsteps moved down the hall to the bathroom. She leaned against the kitchen counter, her hand pressed to her still-throbbing pussy. She could feel Ethan's cum leaking out of her, a sticky reminder of what had just transpired. Her mind raced with the implications of their actions, but she pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand.
With trembling fingers, she started to prep dinner, her thoughts wandering to the taste of her son on her lips. The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity as she chopped, sautéed, and seasoned, trying to ignore the slickness between her legs. Each movement brought a fresh wave of pleasure, making it difficult to concentrate.
Ethan had been watching her from the hallway, his cock still half-erect from their encounter. He couldn't resist the urge to sneak back in, his heart racing with excitement and fear. As he approached her from behind, he reached out and grabbed a handful of her thick, juicy butt, feeling it fill his palm.
Mrs. Willow yelped in shock, spinning around to face him. "Ethan!" she hissed, her cheeks flushing red.
"Mom," he murmured, his voice low and needy. He slipped his hand down the front of her shorts, sliding one finger inside her soakinng wet pussy without warning. She emitted a shocked gasp, her body betrayingly clenching around him.
"What do you think you're doing?" she ordered, trying to break free, but with a voice slick with arousal.
He gazed at her, his eyes black with need. "Making sure you're ready for round two," he whispered, his finger slowly sliding in and out of her.
Mrs. Willow's eyes were wide with surprise and indignation. "You can't simply.do that!" she grumbled half-convincingly, her body doing its best to betray her with reactions.
With a smug grin, Ethan pulled his finger out, taking it to his mouth to lick the sweetness of her juices. His mother's face went scarlet, and she slapped his hand away, surprised at his audacity.
But before she could say anything more, Mr. Willow's voice boomed from the dining room, "Dinner's ready yet?"
Mrs. Willow's eyes darted to the clock. "Almost," she called back, her voice strained. She turned to Ethan, whispering fiercely, "You need to go. Now."
He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "But, Mom, I'm not done with you."
Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped back, straightening her clothes. "We'll finish this later," she snsrled through gritted teeth, "When your father isn't around."
Ethan smirked, adjusting his shorts, and retreated to his room. The anticipation of what was to come made his cock twitch.
Mrs. Willow took a deep breath, willing her body to behave as she carried the plates to the table. Her pussy was still pulsing from Ethan's soft caress, and she hoped that her husband wouldn't notice anything amiss. But as she set the food down, she couldn't suppress the small smile that played on her lips at the knowledge of the delicious little secret she shared with her son.
"What's got you smiling?" Mr. Willow asked, his eyes twinkling.
Mrs. Willow flushed, caught off guard. "Oh, nothing," she said, a little too quickly. "Just happy you're home."
Ethan entered, his own face not showing anything. He sat down, his eyes looking down to his mother's butt as she leaned forward to serve the food. She caught his eyes on her and shivered, recalling the sensation of his finger inside of her and her pussy clenching.
"Thanks, Mom," he whispered, his voice a little too easy.
"You're welcome," she said, her voice strained. She did not dare glance at him, fearing that the fire in his eyes would betray them.
They took their seats to dinner, the tension as thick as could be sliced with a knife. Every bite she took was as tasteless as a lie, her mind replaying the moment Ethan had stuffed her so full. She could feel her cheeks flushing and hoped it was just the heat from the stove.
Mr. Willow interrupted the silence, "So I got a call from Rachel today. They're all returning home next week. Can't wait to see those two."
"How's Rachel's internship?" Ethan asked, not glancing away from his plate.
"Great," Mr. Willow replied, "And Lilly's summer camp? Did she mention her archery award to you?"
Mrs. Willow smiled rigidly. "That's great. She's always been good at that."
"Sure," replied Mr. Willow, "It's going to be a house full again. Maybe we should have a family dinner or something to welcome them back."
They have supper with Mr. Willow unaware of the sexual tension between Ethan and Mrs. Willow. They exchange tense glances, and Mrs. Willow is struggling to keep her emotions under control. Their subject matter for conversation is Rachel and Lilly's homecoming being imminent, giving a possible twist to celebrate, but an additional layer put to their illicit affair.
Ethan's hand touched hers under the table, sending a jolt of electricity up her arm. She withdrew, as if to let a napkin fall. "I'm sure they'd love that," she stammered.
The subject changed to Ethan's schooling, his father beaming with pride at his academic achievements. Mrs. Willow nodded, her thoughts racing. Rachel and Lilly's return meant more eyes, more questions, more danger of being discovered.
Ethan took a deep breath. "Dad, I need to talk to you about something."
Mr. Willow put down his fork, his expression concerned. "What is it, son?"
"It's school," Ethan began, "I've been having a bit of trouble focusing."
"Is everything okay?" Mrs. Willow asked, her mind racing.
"It's just," Ethan stalled, his eyes darting to hers, "I think I need some extra help, maybe some private tutoring."
"Whatever you require," replied Mr. Willow, slapping his back, "Your mother and I will assist."
Their air was thick with unexpressed hunger, the shared secret like a third at dinner. Mrs. Willow's heart beat rapidly as Ethan's hand traveled up her thigh, his fingers creeping toward her still-damp pussy.
"Thanks," said Ethan, talking low, "I'll research it tomorrow."