Lassoing the Moon

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 5,462
1 Ratings (3.0)

Leila knows she’s always been closer to her stepson, Rich, than most mothers, since Rich’s father left when he was just a baby. He’s been the man in her life forever--but now he’s really a man, and his coming-of-age is a test for both of them.

Warnings: This title contains graphic language and sex as well as stepmother-stepson incest.

Note: This story appears in the anthology Back to the Garden

Lassoing the Moon
1 Ratings (3.0)

Lassoing the Moon

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 5,462
1 Ratings (3.0)
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Cover Art by Willsin Rowe

“I’m sorry about this morning,” she whispered, looking down at the dark line of hair that started at his belly button and trailed down under the elastic band of his boxers. She grazed it lightly with her fingertip and found herself thinking about what lay beneath the navy blue material.

He shrugged. “I should have closed the door.”

“Why didn’t you?” She closed her eyes as his fingers moved lightly over her collarbone.

He swallowed. “I don’t know. I guess I forgot.”

Leila was trying hard to just keep breathing, to ignore the sweet sensation of his fingers on her skin, how it made her nipples tingle and harden. She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that she was getting wet, the gentle pulse between her legs turning into a throb.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she murmured, teasing the waistband of his boxers with her fingertip. “It looked like you were…pretty close to finishing.”

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “Yeah.”

“Did you?” she asked after a moment, seeing what she was sure was a slow rise under his boxers as he shifted again.

“Mom…” he breathed as she snuggled a little closer, pressing her full breasts into his side.

“Did you come?” she whispered, seeing a definite tenting in his shorts now.

He swallowed and whispered, “Yeah.”

“Good,” she purred, feeling his hand slipping a little lower in her blouse. She knew she should stop him, stop herself, but she didn’t seem to be able to. “I’m glad I didn’t spoil it for you.”

“You didn’t,” he assured her, moving his hips slightly, like he was trying to get comfortable.

“I haven’t seen you naked since you were a little boy.” He gasped when she slid one finger under the elastic waistband, tugging it up and letting it snap back. “It was kind of a shock.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice lower, his breath warm and his lips almost touching her ear. “For me too.”

Slowly, she let her whole hand move underneath his shorts, reaching toward heaven or hell, she wasn’t sure which, but she found she didn’t want to stop.

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