“Are you having an affair?” someone asked her at the gym.

Joanna looked up to see her husband Sean standing in front of her. She cursed. She was in the middle of a squat, legs bent, butt jutting in the air, holding a heavy barbell behind her neck and shoulders. Some other gym members glanced at them as they strolled by.

“Sean,” she warned him. “Not here.”

“Are you or aren’t you?”

She inhaled as she rose and lifted the barbell over her head. He followed her as she went to replace the equipment.

“When you’re separated, it’s called moving on,” she said. “And no, I’m not. What do you care?”

“Uh-oh,” he said.

She turned to see him looking her over head to toe from her white racerback bra to her pink leather-look leggings. “What?”

“You got the shiny outfit on. Feeling sexy, are we?”

“Sean, grow up.”

“Guess what? I’ve been on three dates since I moved out. How do you like that?”

“Good for you.” She grabbed her towel and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. “What. Do. You. Want.”

“Kit,” he said suddenly.

She hesitated for a second. “What about him?”

“You’ve been chatting with him a lot lately.”

“So? How do you know?”

“So, that’s more than you’ve talked to him your entire life. I thought you hated the kid.”

“I don’t hate anybody.”

“But you never accepted him. Even when he came back from the service.”

She focused on her towel. “I’m making amends.”

“Cute. And suddenly he leaves his girlfriend. Interesting timing. Are you fucking him?”

He was ready for her fist that came heading his way and grabbed her wrist in time.

Some concerned gym members stopped to look. The couple lowered their hands and voices.

“Don’t turn this into a soap opera,” he said.

She wrestled her hand away from him. “I think we should use separate gyms. I’ll find a new one. And I’m not fucking Kit. That’s ridiculous.”

“Hmm,” he said, studying her face. “So why is he seeing you tonight?”

“Is he?”

“He said he was.”

She wasn’t aware. She came up with a cover story anyway. “Oh. Right. To fix my computer.”

He squinted at her.

“The printer… won’t connect or something, remember?”

He stood back, nodded, and exhaled. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, he’s good with that stuff.”

When he looked away, she sighed in relief. “Look,” she continued. “Honestly, since the separation, I did some soul-searching. We did great with the other kids. But I was a terrible stepmother to Kit. I didn’t mean to be that way. It just happened. In my small, probably insignificant way, I want to make it up to him.”

“By asking him for favors.”

“It’s something. Just to get the line of communication open.”

He nodded.

“And you thought I was having a fucking affair with him? What’s wrong with you?”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be, you twisted freak.”

He raised his hands in apology. “Shit. I take it back. And I made that up about the three dates.”

“Yeah, I was so fooled.”

He laughed and pointed at her. “You keep this gym. I’ll find another. We keep things amicable. No acrimony, just alimony. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Still love you, Jo,” he added before walking away.

After her exercises, she took a shower and dressed up. She was anxious. She had a couple of appointments that afternoon. She postponed them for tomorrow, eager to get home.

Sure enough, when she arrived home, Kit was sitting on the front steps.

“No,” she said marching up to him. “No, no, no,” she continued with a finger wagging. “No, Kit.”

“I needed to see you,” he said.

She stood before him shaking her head at him. “You can’t just leave a woman on the floor like that and expect—”

“I panicked.”

“What?”

“Panicked. I don’t know. Freaked out. I mean you’re my dad’s wife. Were.”

She looked around to make sure no neighbors could hear them. “Kit, if you came to again apologize…”

“No, no, ma’am, not this time.”

She sighed heavily in annoyance. “Then what?”

“To confront you.”

She stood up straight. “Oh.”

She climbed the stairs to the door and fumbled with the keys. He got up and moved behind her.

She marched into the empty house, took off her jacket, threw her things on a chair, dreading what he had to say.  

Her stepson stood tall in front of her, hands on his hips, eyes directly on hers.

She stood there, her feet in her booties together, hands placed neatly in front of her, partially covered in her wide bell sleeves, eyes to the floor, the child ready to be reprimanded. She took a deep breath and said, “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Rachel said I bottle things in. So, I’m letting it out. Confronting you. About things you did. You used to call me ‘bastard.'”

“That was one time.”

“I was ten. And it felt like more.”

“You called me 'bitch.'”

“That was one or two… hundred… times… behind your back,” he said. “I was angry.”

She closed her eyes. “I know.”

“Like you hated me because of things dad did.”

She winced even with her eyes closed. “I know.”

“But Dad said you hated yourself for it.”

She nodded.

“So I wanted to talk about it,” he said, walking towards her.

But he put a hand on her shoulders and placed a kiss on her cheek. When she eyed him, he was looking at and touching the velvet fabric of her top. He kissed under her ear.

“You’re really letting me have it, aren’t you?” she said.

His lips were too busy to answer, finding spots on the nape of her neck. His hand was sliding down her back. The other hand was touching her face as he kissed.

“Kit? Did you want to confront me or come fuck me?”

The hand behind her made its way to the butt of her jeans. She exhaled and closed her eyes. He gave her butt cheek a squeeze. She wriggled a little under his hands. He turned her face to get her lips. The hand on her butt wound back.

And came back hard with a loud SPANK!

“Oh!” she said with a jump. She glared at him. “You little shit, what are you, Oh!”

He did it again. He was grinning. “Punishing you,” he said.

She groaned, holding his arm as he held her gently by the neck, and suffered three more spanks.

“Ow, Kit!”

The mean hand in the back grabbed a handful of her hair. The sweet hand left her neck and grabbed her between her legs.

She cursed and gasped. His fingers were working fast, unbuttoning, unzipping her jeans. She yelped as he yanked on her hair. He let go to grab her jeans and peel them down to her ankles.

She tried to scurry towards the sofa and lost her footing.

He caught her from behind and held her against him, arms wrapped around her, hand on her breasts, hand on her silk panties, face leaning over her shoulder desperate to kiss his stepmother. She turned her face to him and let him in. She grabbed a fistful of his hair to hold him there. She could feel his erection grinding against her ass. She rubbed her body against him to feel more of it.

While they kissed, she kicked off her booties, her pants.

“We’re going to reconcile upstairs,” he said.

“No, not up there,” she muttered.

“Now,” he said, his face serious.

She nodded. “Okay.”

Within seconds, he had spun her around, pulled her back, and picked her up.

She licked his face as he carried her up the stairs.

Once in her bedroom, he flung her to the bed. She landed with a yelp.

The lights were off, but the warm light of the sunset was enough as she watched him take his clothes off. Her legs spread open, and she writhed on the bed waiting for him.

He crept towards her with an evil grin. She grinned even wider, her butt grinding against the quilt.

He tried to grab her panties, but she grabbed them, too, giving him a little resistance. It became a tugging war with their eyes locked. His strength won out as he ripped the panties from her hands and yanked them down her legs.

She yelped as he jumped on top of her. But she wasn’t done having fun. She tried to push him off. He grabbed both her wrists and held them down against the bed. He straddled her to hold down her kicking legs. And his hard cock was leaning against her mound.

She liked his face as she struggled with him—his determined grey eyes and his lustful lips.

She laughed excitedly.

“You’re crazy,” he said, rewarding her with smooches to her cheek and forehead and temple.

He let go of her wrists and went for her breasts like she knew he would. He pulled up her blouse and pulled down the lacy black bra to get to them. He seemed obsessed with them. He buried his face in them.

“Oh, Kit,” she muttered.

He bit and sucked on her nipples noisily and he mumbled something.

She paused him to give his wet lips a kiss—and to hear what he was saying.

“Joanna,” he said again.

She made a face. “Still sounds weird.”

He devoured her other nipple. “Ma’am?”

She gave him a little slap. “Never again.”

“Agreed,” he said while fondling both breasts. Then he looked at her. “Mom?”

She stared back at him. She let out a laugh. So did he.

“Mom,” he said again.

She covered her face in embarrassment. “Oh, God, this is so wrong, I love it. Oh, my Lord, Kit, I can’t believe—Ooh!”

She couldn’t finish when he began fingering her. She squirmed under him, whimpering. She let out a loud breath when he pulled his soaked fingers out of her.

He began to climb on top of her. She held her breath. Their eyes were locked and not playful anymore. She ran her hands down his body to his cock and grabbed it. And she guided that burning cock into her wet pussy.

She cupped her hands on his face and kissed him, then wrapped her bell-sleeved arms around his neck and her bare legs around his waist, closed her eyes, and groaned as he began to fuck her and fuck her.

“Finally,” she whispered, having fantasized about her stepson’s cock longer than she’d ever admit to anyone ever.

It was a beautiful moment for her.

But then he stopped.

She worried he was freaking out again.

Nope. He anchored his fists on the bed and lifted himself up. He pushed into her harder.

“Oh, shit,” she muttered, noticing the fierce look on his face.

He began driving that powerful cock of his into her with more strength.

“Oh, God,” she groaned. Then she yelped as he began pounding into her with merciless force. It hurt a little, but, “Yes, fuck me, Kit,” she said. “Let it out.”

He did.

His cock came at her in punishing waves. The bedsprings complained. A pillow fell overboard. She grabbed a fistful of sheets as she held on. Her toes curled. Her head nearly slammed the headboard. His eyes were closed as he let out a thunderous groan. She cursed as he sped up, his cock crashing into her, thrashing her body. The bed hit the wall. She grabbed the headboard to protect her head. Then she grabbed him for support. Just when she thought it was over, one last angry thrust made her cry out.

She thanked God when he finally calmed. She held the back of his head and a cheek of his ass and sighed as he fucked her more gently.

“No,” she said suddenly, sensing he was about to cum. “Stop, stop, stop.”

He groaned.

“Don’t cum,” she said sternly. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

He gritted his teeth and pulled out, throwing himself on the bed next to her.

She needed a minute to recover. So did he.

When she was sure he wouldn’t cum, she rolled over to him, slid down, took his cock in her mouth, and got him rock hard again. He liked that, sighing. When he was hard enough, she mounted him.

He grinned widely as his stepmother straddled him and worked his cock back into her. The warm sunlight was hitting her face and her disheveled hair. He was looking up at her as if she were some divine figure.

She smiled at that. She removed her blouse and bra, giving him more to look at.

He sighed and gently touched her face, her shoulders, her breasts.

She began riding him.

Fully in control, she bounced on top of him as fast as she wanted, engorged his cock as deep as she wanted, and cried as loud as she wanted as she fucked him. She dropped down and held on to his chest and rode him. She sat up and threw her hands in her hair as she rode him. She leaned back and grabbed his legs behind her and rode him some more.

He suddenly sat up. She yelped, nearly capsizing. He caught her and scooped her into his arms. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. They held each other tight as he let out a deafening groan and came inside her.

Once done, he fell back and collapsed with tears in his eyes.  

They laid in bed for another half hour, with occasional kisses to his chest, frequent kisses to the top of her head. His fingers played with her earlobe. Hers played with his flaccid cock.  

“You forgive me, Kit?” she said down there on his chest.

He answered by raising her to his lips and kissing her.

“What now?” he asked finally when no light was left in the room.  

She sighed. After a moment, she said, “I think your dad wants to get back together.”

He nodded. “That’s good.”

She sat up in the dark. He rubbed the back of his fingers against her arm.

“Maybe I should get back with Rachel, give it another chance, talk more.”

She nodded. “That’d be good.” Then she grinned. “And fuck her like you did me.”

He laughed.

“And worship her like you did me.”

He smiled.

She poked a finger at his chest. “And stop taking shit from her. She’ll respect that.”

He nodded. But then he said, “And us?”

She stood up and hit a nearby dimmer switch to turn on some light. She bent over him, gave him a kiss. “I’ll be your stepmother,” she said with a stern face. “You’ll be my stepson,” she added with a smile. “And if we ever need each other… for a favor… or a spanking… or…”

He grinned as well. “Ha!”

“We’ll be there for each other,” she concluded sweetly.

“I like that.”

“Get up, soldier,” she said, pulling him out of bed.

They showered together and cleaned up.

When her other children arrived home from their various activities and saw them, they wondered how Joanna and Kit had become so chummy so suddenly. They were curious, but they greatly appreciated the change.

Kit went on to rekindle his relationship with Rachel, who saw a change in him.

Sean worked his way back into the household with roses and promises to be faithful.

But he kept a weather eye on his wife whenever Kit came to visit.