Natalia didn't hesitate.
The command hit her like a lightning strike straight to her clit. One second she was trembling on the couch, lips still buzzing from that brutal kiss; the next she was sliding off the cushions and dropping to her knees on the cold hardwood floor. The lantern's flickering orange glow painted everything in sinful shadows—her wine-red lips parted, her dark hair tumbling over one shoulder, her full breasts heaving against the thin cashmere of her sweater.
Ethan rose to his feet in front of her, towering like a god. His hazel eyes burned down at her as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweatpants and shoved them down in one rough motion.
His cock sprang free.
Nine thick, veiny inches of pure sin. Heavy. Angry. The fat head already glistening with a thick bead of precum that caught the lantern light like liquid gold. His balls hung low and full, drawn tight with three years of denied need. The sheer size of it made her mouth water instantly.
"Oh my God," Natalia breathed, voice wrecked. "I missed this fucking monster."
She didn't wait for permission. Her hands flew up, wrapping around the base—her fingers barely meeting around his girth—and she leaned in like a woman starved. Her tongue dragged a slow, wet stripe from his balls all the way to the tip, tasting the salty musk that had haunted her dreams for years. Then she opened wide.
The first slide was heaven and hell at once.
She took him deep on the very first try, lips stretching obscenely around his thickness, jaw aching instantly. Four inches. Five. Six. Her throat convulsed, gagging hard around the invasion, but she pushed forward anyway, tears springing to her eyes as the fat head bullied past her gag reflex and sank into the tight, rippling heat of her throat.
"Fuuuuck," Ethan groaned, head falling back for half a second before his hand fisted in her hair. "That's it. Just like you used to. Choke on it, baby."
Natalia's mascara started running immediately—black rivers streaking down her flushed cheeks as spit bubbled from the corners of her stretched lips and dripped in thick strings onto her sweater. She gagged again, wet and obscene, the sound echoing in the dark living room, but she didn't pull back. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder, throat muscles fluttering and milking him like she was trying to swallow him whole.
Ethan's hips jerked. He tightened his grip in her hair and started to thrust—shallow at first, then deeper, using her face exactly the way he used to during lockdown. The wet *gluck-gluck-gluck* of her throat being fucked filled the room, louder than the storm outside. Every time he bottomed out, her nose pressed flush against his pelvis, her throat bulging visibly under the delicate skin of her neck.
She was soaked. Her jeans were ruined. She could feel her pussy clenching rhythmically around nothing, dripping down her thighs, and she hadn't even been touched yet. The degradation, the stretch, the way he was owning her throat again—it was everything she'd craved in secret for three long years.
"Goddamn, look at you," Ethan growled, voice ragged. He used both hands now, cradling her head like a toy while he fucked her face in long, deliberate strokes. "Still the best fucking throat I've ever had. Crying and drooling all over my cock like a desperate little stepmom whore. You love this, don't you?"
Natalia moaned around him—a broken, vibrating sound that made his cock twitch against her tongue. She couldn't speak, but the way her eyes rolled back and her thighs rubbed together desperately said everything. She reached up with one hand, cupping his heavy balls and gently rolling them while her throat spasmed around his length.
Ethan's rhythm faltered. His abs flexed, veins standing out on his forearms. "Fuck—Natalia—slow down or I'm gonna—"
She didn't slow down.
She took him even deeper, nose smashed against his pubic bone, holding him there as her throat convulsed in rhythmic swallows. Fresh tears poured down her face. Spit cascaded from her chin in thick ropes, soaking the front of her sweater until her hard nipples were clearly visible through the wet fabric.
Ethan snarled like an animal. His hips snapped forward one final time and he came—hard.
Thick, hot ropes of cum blasted straight down her throat. Pulse after pulse. So much that she choked, gagged, and still swallowed every drop like the greedy slut she was for him. Some leaked from the corners of her mouth anyway, mixing with her tears and spit in a filthy mess that dripped onto her tits.
When he finally pulled out, strings of cum and saliva connected her swollen lips to his still-hard cock. Natalia gasped for air, coughing, mascara completely wrecked, lips puffy and shining.
She looked up at him with glassy, adoring eyes and licked her lips clean.
"I missed you," she whispered, voice hoarse and ruined. "I missed choking on my stepson's cock so fucking much."
Ethan stared down at her, chest heaving, cock still twitching and glistening with her spit. His hand stroked through her messy hair almost tenderly.
Then his voice dropped into something darker, hungrier.
"Bedroom. Now. I'm not done with you."
End of Chapter 4