He didn’t wait until dark.
I was still on Mom’s side of the bed, naked, six loads shifting inside me, when he walked in with the lube from her nightstand and locked the door. The late-afternoon light cut across the sheets. My phone sat on the pillow where I’d just sent the hourly picture—legs open, c*m shining, his fingers still visible from the last stuffing. He looked at it, then at me.
“On your stomach. Ass up. I’m starting there. Then we move. You’re taking it in every position I want before dinner.”
I rolled over and lifted my hips. He coated his c**k and the lube, then pressed the head against me. I breathed out and pushed back. He sank in slow, inch by inch, until he was buried. The stretch was intense. He stayed there, grinding, one hand on my hip, the other reaching under to ru
