Capítulo 30: Giving Mommy Dear A Hand [2]

'Oh, sweet mother of everything holy!'

Juliana's thoughts spiraled faster than a soap opera plot twist. Her heart raced so hard she was half-expecting a cardiac arrest. Every nerve in her body screamed, Run! but her traitorous body whispered, Stay.

Her breathing hitched as the heat radiating from her ass cheeks told her something far worse.

Earlier, she'd felt his boner through two layers of fabric: hers and his. It had been manageable, something she could pretend was just an accident.

But now? The inferno radiating from her ass cheeks screamed that he'd unleashed the Kraken, and the only thing standing between his cock and the Promised Land was her thin-as-sin silk skirt.

And oh, Artis wasn't just standing there; his monster cock had found a cozy home between her plump ass cheeks, nestled like a forbidden hot dog. He started grinding, slow and deliberate, dragging his length against her like he was trying to iron out her self-respect.

Every movement sent electric shocks up her spine, making her legs tremble like a newborn deer.

"What's the hold-up, Mommy?"

His voice was syrupy sweet, completely at odds with the depravity happening below. It was infuriating, yet somehow hotter than hell.

Juliana's breathing was a chaotic mess, her chest rising and falling like she'd just run a marathon—and not the virtuous kind. Her trembling hands reached for the container as her brain screamed,

'Oh gods, please, stop me from liking this! This is so wrong!'

But just as her fingers brushed the container, Artis switched tactics. He let go of her hair and waist and grabbed her hips, thrusting once with enough force to knock her off-kilter. She missed the container entirely, but worse—oh gods, worse—a breathless, needy moan escaped her lips.

"Aahh~~!"

She gasped, slapping her free hand over her mouth, mortified by the sound that had just betrayed her.

"Heh heh… What's wrong, Mommy? Can't grab it?"

Artis teased, his voice dripping with mockery as if he wasn't dry-humping her into a fucking frenzy.

'Oh gods, this is bad! My body's betraying me! Why the fuck are my nipples so hard?! And my… oh no, my pussy is soaked!'

Juliana was spiraling, but not the graceful kind of spiral. This was more like a horny tornado of shame.

Every time his hands gripped her waist and that cock of his pressed against her, her nipples hardened painfully, and her panties were turning into a full-on swamp.

She didn't even like Artis like that—or so she kept telling herself.

"S-stop playing around, Artis! L-little Artis, behave!"

She stammered, knowing damn well nothing about his little Artis was small.

"Oh? Then take the container, Mommy."

Desperate, Juliana reached for the container again, only for him to thrust his hips harder, perfectly timing the move. The pressure and heat against her core made her moan, loud and unfiltered.

"Aaah! You naughty boy!"

She gasped, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and… something much more sinful.

His response? A mischievous chuckle.

"Heh heh, take the container, Mommy."

Her legs felt like jelly, trembling as if they were preparing for a full collapse. Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving.

Every nerve in her body was lighting up like fireworks. Her pussy? Leaking like a broken faucet. Her nipples? So hard they might as well be trying to carve his name into the kitchen counter.

"A-Artis…"

She whimpered, her voice dripping with both embarrassment and undeniable need.

She was a mess. Her eyes glazed over, her face flushed hotter than the stove nearby. Sweat glistened on her skin, and her entire body quivered as though she were one thrust away from full-on surrender.

'Oh fuck, this is bad. I'm gonna cum, and he hasn't even touched me yet! What the hell is wrong with me? Why is my body acting like a horny teenager at their first kiss?'

Juliana's thoughts were spiraling out of control, her pussy wetter than a summer thunderstorm.

"Mommy, what's wrong? You getting old or something?"

Artis teased, his voice dripping with that smug confidence only a man wielding a literal cock-bazooka could manage.

"Heh, maybe I should take charge of this household, huh? Clearly, your Mommy-power is slipping."

Her eyes snapped up, fury and embarrassment bubbling inside her.

"No! Your mommy is not old, little Art! I'll prove it to you, you naughty boy!"

With her pride on the line, Juliana lunged for the damn container again. But Artis, with the precision of a predator, timed his thrust perfectly. His hips bucked forward, grinding his cock harder against her ass, and she let out a loud, uninhibited moan.

"Auuu! Naughty boy!"

She gasped, her voice a symphony of frustration and unholy pleasure. Her thighs trembled as she clutched the counter for support.

"Just you wait! I'll make you take those words back!"

But her challenge was losing steam fast. Her body was betraying her. Her thighs were quaking, her pussy was leaking like a faucet that wouldn't turn off, and her breath came in ragged pants.

Every hump, every grind, sent electric jolts straight to her core, making her knees weaker by the second.

'What is happening to me? Why is my pussy acting like a damn slip-and-slide? Why am I so fucking turned on?!'

Juliana's desperation was reaching its peak. She needed to grab that container, to reclaim some shred of dignity, to stop the relentless assault on her senses.

"Try, mommy."

"Oh, you wanna play games, huh? Fine! I'll show you who's boss!"

Juliana growled, determined to win whatever horny battlefield this had become. She reached for the container again, but Artis was already two steps ahead.

His hips thrust forward, grinding his monster into the sweet crevice of her ass like he was trying to carve his name there.

"Nuu! Hya! Haaa!"

Juliana's squeals shot through the air as every grind of his thick, veiny cock against her sent electric jolts straight to her core. Her pussy wasn't just wet anymore—it was a fucking flood zone.

Every slick grind against her thin clothing made her shudder, made her toes curl.

'Oh gods, what the fuck is happening to me?!'

She thought, her face turning as red as the tomatoes in the pantry.

Artis didn't stop. No, this bastard sped up.

"What's wrong, Mommy? You losing focus?"

Juliana couldn't even remember what the fuck she was reaching for. The container? Her dignity? Her sanity? Whatever it was, it was gone.

Instead, her hands braced against the ground, desperately trying to keep her balance as her body betrayed her completely.

"Aaa! Haaa! Nuu! Hyaaa! Ahhh!"

The sounds coming out of her mouth weren't human anymore—they were pure, unfiltered desperation. She was panting, moaning, groaning like she'd forgotten what it meant to breathe properly.

Artis, of course, was thriving. Each thrust of his hips brought him closer, his cock pressing deliciously into her soft, jiggling ass cheeks.

She was like putty in his hands, and fuck if he didn't enjoy watching her squirm.

Juliana, meanwhile, was losing the last shred of her mind. Her body was so wound up she was sure a light breeze would send her over the edge.

"Nuu! Haaa! Ahhh! Aaaahhh!"

She screamed, her voice cracking as the pleasure mounted. She couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't fucking do anything except moan like a woman possessed.

She was right there. One more grind, one more thrust, and she was about to gush like a broken dam. But the bastard—no, the absolute menace—Artis, had other plans.

With a smug chuckle, he stopped mid-hump, released her hips, and casually stepped back, leaving Juliana trembling on all fours like a cat that had just been denied its cream.

"See? Told ya you'd lose."

Artis said, crossing his arms like the cocky little shit he was.

"Still haven't even touched the container. Face it, Mommy, you're slipping. Guess you're getting old. Heh."

"Ahhh! Ahaaa! Wh-wh-what?! Nooo… wait!"

Juliana's breath hitched, her words tumbling out in a desperate stammer.

"Don't tease Mommy! Mommy needs…"

Her voice trailed off into a frustrated whine as her brain scrambled to make sense of this betrayal.

She was so damn close she could taste it—well, metaphorically, anyway—but now the rug had been yanked out from under her, and she was left teetering on the edge of sanity. Again!

Her thoughts spiraled.

'No, no, no! He can't leave me like this. I'll fucking lose it. I NEED it. I need to cum or I'm going to scream louder than the goddess of frustration herself.'

She shot him a wild-eyed glare, her face flushed, her body still quivering.

"L-look here, little Art. Mommy is about to win this one! You hear me? You're going to lose, you naughty boy!"

She sensually called out before...

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