"Uh… guess I'll swing this back tomorrow," Zesai mumbled, He rubbed the back of his neck, breaking the silence. "Might even squeeze my cash back outta 'em," he added, tossing in a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the awkwardness between them.
Amara pushed herself up from the couch, her legs wobbly like they'd forgotten how to work. "Yeah… uh… smart plan, take it back," she said, her words tumbling out fast and clipped, like she was spitting them out before they could stick in her throat. "I'm… gonna crash. Night." She bolted for the stairs, not looking back.
---
The next morning, Amara sat at the kitchen table, steam curling up from her coffee mug. She was wrapped in a faded blue bathrobe, the kind that looked soft from too many washes, hanging loose around her shoulders.
It gaped open a little at the chest, showing a sliver of pale skin, her collarbone sharp under the morning light. Her blonde hair was a mess, tangled strands spilling over her shoulders, and her eyes still puffy from sleep skimmed the newspaper spread out in front of her. One leg was tucked under her, the robe slipping up to show a stretch of thigh, and her free hand cradled the mug, fingers tapping restless against it.
Zesai shuffled in, backpack slung over one shoulder, sneakers scuffing the floor. He kept his head down, going for the fridge. He yanked out the orange juice, poured it into a glass, then grabbed a bagel and chucked it in the toaster. He flicked a glance at her, noticing the robe. "Hey, no work today, Mom?" he asked.
Amara sipped her coffee, keeping her eyes on the paper for a beat too long. "Nah, I'm heading out late," she said, "Got some free time."
Zesai leaned against the counter, scratching at his jaw. "Mom… uh… sorry about that... last night. Didn't mean to grab… that."
Her face flared red, and she flicked the newspaper straight, hiding behind it for a second. "Zesai, cool it. It's isn't your fault," she snapped, words biting quick. "The rental shop has fucked up. I will gave the disk back, and scold them."
"Nah, I got it," he said, "I can go there after school."
She shook her head fast, setting the mug down with a clink. "No, I said I'll handle it. I don't need to go at work until ten anyway."
He squinted at her, brow furrowing. "Uh… alright, whatever. Catch ya later then." He stepped over, bending to plant a quick kiss on her cheek, his voice softening, "Love ya, Mom."
"Love you too, kid," she replied, her tone softening too.
The second the front door clicked shut behind him, Amara was up. She darted to the living room, robe flapping around her knees, and jammed the tape back into the VCR.
The TV hummed to life, and she flopped onto the couch, tugging the robe open. It fell apart, pooling around her hips, leaving her naked, boobs spilling free, nipples hardening in the cool air, her stomach soft and quivering. She kicked her legs apart, one foot propped on the coffee table, the other dangling off the cushion. Her hand slid down, fingers brushing between her thighs, finding her pussy already wet, lips swollen and slick.
She grabbed the remote, fast-forwarding with a shaky thumb until the screen lit up with the blonde, legs spread wide, that neighbor woman kneeling between them.
The blonde's head tipped back, moaning loud as the woman's tongue worked her pussy, lapping slow and deep, lips shiny with cum.
Amara's breath hitched. She couldn't get over how much this thing turn her up. Her fingers slipped inside herself, two at once, pumping slow, then faster, her thumb grinding her clit. Her boobs jiggled with every move, her free hand clawing at the couch.
Outside, Zesai hadn't made it far. He went back, some nagging itch telling him to check something. He crept up to the window, peering through the gap in the curtains, and froze. There she was, his mom, robe wide open, legs splayed, hand buried between her thighs. Her head was thrown back, eyes half-shut, mouth parted as she fucked herself with her fingers, the TV glowing with those two women going at it.
The blonde was grinding into the neighbor's face, hands fisted in her hair, and Amara's moans, soft, desperate leaked through the glass.
Zesai's jaw dropped, his dick twitching hard in his jeans. He couldn't move, couldn't blink—just stood there, watching her lose it.