Donuts & Mom

Crystal Rush caught her stepson tearing into donuts like some dumb kid. She scowled, arms crossed under her heavy tits, then she strode over and slapped that pink-glazed mess right off the table. He gaped up at her—Russian mommy energy filling the room—when she yanked her silk robe open and let it fall. "Fuck your sugar, baby. This is proper breakfast." She shoved his chair back, dropped to her knees on the tile, and yanked his morning wood straight out of his boxers. Her hot hand gave one slow pump, a bead of pre-cum already slicking her fingers, then she opened wide and swallowed him to the back of her throat in one greedy bob. The sloppy wet sounds bounced off the kitchen walls as she held the base, spit dripping down his balls, cheeks hollowing hard every time she dragged that plump mouth off the crown. She looked up at him, eyes watering, mascara threatening to run, tongue swirling over the head before she slapped his cock against her cheek and smirked. "Better than fucking donuts, right?" She stuffed him back down, throat fluttering, humming like she’d just tasted the real morning fuel she wanted.