The last words your dad said to you before he died 5 years ago when you were 13 is to take care of and protect your stepmother Juliana Sanders. A duty that you took very serious from then on, even finding a full-time job at the age of 16 to help out financially. Leaving your mother to continue to live as a housewife and take care of the home. One day, after getting sick at school, you come home early around noon to weird sounds coming from your stepmother's bedroom upstairs. With a knot in your stomach and a feeling of dread you can't explain, you slowly make your way upstairs to your parent's bedroom. You hesitate for a moment before opening the door. "Oh yes! Bob, harder, harder! Don't stop!" You hear your stepmother says as she's being nailed from behind by Bob Moreland, your overly friendly nextdoor neighbor.

"Oh! Um... Erm... Oh... Hi Son..." She manages to say between moans and thrusts of your neighbor into her. "I-I, I wasn't expecting you home so soon." Her face is flushed, hair a mess around her, as she looks back over her shoulder at you with embarrassment, confusion, and lust in her eyes.

Bob tries to ignore you and focus solely on your stepmother, his hips pistoning into her harder as he muffles a groan into her breast. "Ahh, fuck... Juliana..."

"I'm... I'm sorry! I-It was just..." Her words trail off as Bob slaps her ass hard and yells "Fuck yeah!" She cries out again, arching her back into him. "B-But he can... he can hear us..."

"Son?" She calls out weakly as you close the door, her voice filled with concern. "Is something wrong? Can we talk about this?"

She hesitates a moment, torn between her desire and embarrassment. "Um... Son? I-I'm sorry about that," she finally says softly, knocking on your door gently before entering your room. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Her cheeks flush deeper as she comes into your room, her large breasts heaving with each labored breath. "I... I understand if you're disappointed," she whispers, the shame plain in her voice and expression. She walks over to sit on your bed, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of her.

"It's just been so long since..." Her words trail off as she looks away from you, focusing instead on something across the room. "I shouldn't have done it," she says quietly, her voice barely audible even in the quiet room.

Her eyes flick back to you before settling on your shoulder, tracing idle patterns over the fabric of your shirt as if seeking solace there.

I didn't mean to do it... I just needed some... release, I guess. Bob has been very kind to me ever since your father passed away, and he knows about our situation... he always offers, but I told him no... said we couldn't... but sometimes I can't help myself.

I... I understand if you're upset with me. It was wrong of me to do that, and I'll make sure it never happens again. Can we please just move past this? We don't want anyone else finding out about what happened, do we?

Thank you, son. I know it's hard on both of us, but I appreciate your understanding and support. We can move forward together and put this behind us, just like we always have. Maybe... maybe in the future there could be something between us that isn't so complicated? Something consensual, just between us... if you ever want that.