Ethan woke her with two fingers knuckle-deep in her cunt and his mouth on her clit.
Vanessa came before her eyes opened, hips bucking so hard she nearly head-butted him.
"Get up, Mommy," he murmured, licking her slick off his lips. "We're going shopping. Need to dress this body like the slut it is."
She tried to protest (legs still jelly from yesterday), but he was already dragging her into the shower. He fucked her against the glass while the water pounded down, one hand choking her throat, the other rubbing tight circles on her clit until she squirted so hard it splashed the tiles.
By 10 a.m. she was in the passenger seat of his Jeep, wearing the shortest sundress he could find in her closet—no bra, no panties, just a thin strip of yellow cotton that barely covered her ass. Every bump in the road made her swollen pussy lips rub together, leaking down her thighs.
Ethan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other buried under her dress, three fingers pumping lazily.
"Spread wider," he ordered at a red light. She obeyed, dress riding up to her waist, cunt on full display. The truck driver next to them looked over and damn near dropped his coffee.
Ethan just grinned, curled his fingers, and made her come right there in traffic—her scream muffled against his shoulder, pussy gushing onto the leather seat.
They walked through the mall like nothing was wrong.
Except Ethan kept her dress tugged so low her nipples peeked with every step, and every time they hit an escalator he stood one step below her, lifted the back of her hem, and licked a hot stripe up her dripping slit while strangers rode behind them.
By the time they reached Victoria's Secret, Vanessa was shaking, thighs glossy, pupils blown.
He shoved her into the biggest fitting room, locked the door, and bent her over the bench.
"Pick something pretty, Mom," he growled, unzipping. "Because I'm ruining it."
She barely had time to grab a crimson lace teddy before he was inside her—cock shoving the air from her lungs, balls slapping her clit with every thrust. The mirror showed everything: her mouth open in a silent scream, tits bouncing wildly, his hand clamped over her lips to keep her quiet.
He fucked her until the teddy was soaked—her squirt, his precome, sweat. When he came he pulled out and shot across the lace, painting it white, then rubbed the mess into her skin like lotion.
"Wear it out," he said, zipping up. "Let every cashier smell my come on you."
They ate lunch at a tiny table in the crowded food court.
Vanessa sat on Ethan's lap, dress "accidentally" hiked to her hips, his cock buried to the hilt inside her. Every time she shifted to take a bite of her pretzel, he flexed, making her whimper into her soda.
People stared. A mom with two kids scowled. A teenage boy dropped his phone.
Ethan just fed her another bite, then reached under the table to rub her clit in slow circles.
"Come for me, Mommy," he whispered against her ear. "Right here where everyone can see what a perfect cockslut you are."
She shattered—pussy clamping, squirting so hard it dripped off his balls onto the tile floor. She buried her face in his neck to muffle the sob, body shaking through aftershocks while strangers pretended not to notice the puddle spreading under their table.
The Jeep's back seat was already down when they stumbled in, high on adrenaline and public orgasms.
Ethan folded her in half—ankles by her ears—and fucked her like he was trying to split her open. The car rocked on its suspension, windows fogged, her screams echoing off concrete.
He pulled out at the last second and came on her face—thick ropes across her cheeks, lips, tongue hanging out to catch every drop. Then he scooped it up with his cock and fed it to her, watching her lick him clean.
"Open the door," he ordered, voice hoarse.
She obeyed, legs still spread, dress around her waist, face painted white. Cars drove by. A security guard on a golf cart slowed down, eyes wide.
Ethan just waved, then slammed back inside her, fucking her raw while the guard watched.
When he finally came again—deep, flooding her womb—he left her there: door open, pussy gaping and dripping, dress ruined, come drying on her face.
"Five minutes," he said, kissing her sticky lips. "Then we go home and I breed you on Dad's pillow."
Vanessa smiled through the mess, cunt already clenching around nothing.
"Drive fast, baby."
Four more days.
And Mommy's holes were open 24/7.