Brad had a problem. He didn't know what sildenafil was, but it definitely wasn't for a headache. His entire body throbbed, and his face was red as blood coursed through him. He felt like he was going to level up to the next step of cultivation or something. But as he sat in the livingroom on the couch with his legs crossed his biggest issue was the glaringly large problem of his hard cock and the chatter box in the seat across from him. She just wouldn't stop talking and he had to get her to look away so he could escape without revealing his excitement.
His stepmother, named of all things, Angel was a chatter box. But that is what you get when you are old, rich, and marry a trophy wife you find at a Vegas casino. Angel was of Danish heritage or something and had a small lilt to her voice that gave away that maybe her English wasn't all she grew up learning.
Well, it her English was as good as she could make it. Angel wasn't the smartest thing, thirty or forty years ago they would call the blonde woman a bimbo. Brad wasn't trying to be sexist or anything, he liked her and all, but damn she was dumb. As a result she covered her lack of smarts with a never ending onslaught of chatter.
Smart or not, she could probably be a Hollywood star had she met a producer instead of his boring old father. His father was eighty or something, which meant he had Brad with another trophy wife, Darleene, when he was around sixty. Brad's mom was wicked smart, she knew what she was getting in to and got all she could before she was ousted by the next trophy, Angel.
"And theeeen you know what he did, he bought me this!" Angel said as she leaned forwards showing Brad a necklace his father had bought her. "Isn't it so beautiful I think it's made of--"
Her voice kind of went to white noise in Brad's mind as she stared at her necklace, or rather the impressive rack she had. Whatever ancestral blood made her gifted her ivory white skin, a slight bronzing to it since she liked to go outside a lot, long legs that pushed her height to more than his six feet. She had to have been six four, six six, he wasn't sure. He was just appreciative that it brought those--they must have been E or F sized, something above D definitely--down so he could look down the deep cleavage line.
They were at home on a casual day so her pure natural blonde hair was up in a messy bun, she wore a sports top and yoga pants, just returned from a run or another one of her exercises. It was enough to make him get a chubby on a normal day. Now, with was coursing through his nineteen-year-old body like a raging bull, he had a hard on that threatened to rip open his trackpants. His blood throbbed through him, each heartbeat felt like it had enough force that his skin would burst.
Her body had hips that were made to grab and thighs that were made to wrap around you. Curvy and perfect with just enough muscle and padding to make every feminine feature pop. This trophy was exquisite.
"Brad...? Braaaad? Earth to Brad?" Angel was saying, finally pulling his attention away from how he wanted to grab hold of her and do so many inappropriate things.
"Yea?" He asked lazily as his cock throbbed, actually it started to feel a bit uncomfortable.
"Are you feeling okay?" Angel asked in concern, her large crystal blue eyes wide with concern and naivete. "You don't look well, you are all read and very distracted, normally when we talk you are a very good listener but today you are not a very good listener, so are you feeling well, are you sick, oh do you have a fever?" The rapid-fire endless stream of words waned for a moment as she stood up and crossed to him. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, it felt cool and soothing to his thundering heart rate, but it also swiftened as she got closer.
He could smell her, she smelled like vanilla and sin. Her scent wafting from a body that had just been working hard on keeping her figure. She needed a shower, but the sharp sweet smell only made him want to rip her clothes off and have his way for her. As his lust sharply rose and he let out a small groan of frustration as he tried to reign it in. This was his step-mother, he needed to stop. His father's wife, not some cheap bar chick he could have his way with and then shut her up for a few bills afterwards.
"Oh my god, you are burning up!" Angel exclaimed and put her hands to her mouth, finally stopping the never-ending chatter. He would have thought it a miracle if he wasn't busy staring at the small jewel belly button piercing she had. She was so close, her dirty pussy wafting its stink right in front of him, the form fitting leggings showing him her mound and a slight camel toe. Yoga pants, who invented those needed a Nobel prize, because they were a fucking genius.
"Brad, what can I do to help you?"
"Nothing, nothing..." he said, nearly laughing with hysteria, but a grunt of discomfort came out and he repositioned himself. Could a cock fill with so much it could explode? Because that was what it felt like to him.
"Okay! Off to bed mister!" Angel ordered him, using a passable mother's voice. She would make a great mom, those wide hips to push it out, those huge tits for it to suckle from. Damn he'd like to suck on them. Her milk would be so sweet. Maybe he should put a baby into her right now. No. No. Those were bad thoughts. Illicit thoughts. Delicious thoughts.
"Erhm. No. I'm fine. I just took a med. Must be messing with me." He said as he repositioned himself. "Sildenafil."
"Silden... Sil...S... A medicine? I don't know what that one is but it doesn't matter let's get you to bed right now mister so you can lay back and feel better, we will turn on the cool air and I'll even get you a wet cloth for your forehead and you will fill great I promise it will be fine I'll take such good care of you."
"Yes mom." Brad let slip, half accidentally, half sarcastically. It just came out, she sounded just like his mom. Felt like her a little bit as she tried to take care of him, even though she was far closer to his age than his mothers. Damn, these strange thoughts, his mind must be overloaded with the throbbing blood.
"Hah, I told you when I married your father, you don't have to call me mom." She said but sounded quite pleased as she slapped him on the shoulder. He winced.
"Sensitive!" He said in explanation as she started to apologize profusely.
"Sorrysorrysorry, I'm so sorry sweety, come one. Let's get you to bed." She said as she started to pull on one arm gently. He resisted but she kept pulling and he almost fell over, his legs going wide to brace himself. She suddenly stopped pulling on him and her hands went to her mouth, her eyes as big as saucers.
"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," she said over and over before covering her eyes and apologizing again. She retreated from him, almost jumping back in her haste to distance herself. "Sorrysorrysorry, I didn't mean to... oh my god..."
