College group project at Marco’s house. Four of us around the dining table, laptops open, energy drinks everywhere, pretending to finish this damn presentation. Around 3 PM I excused myself to the bathroom.

Hallway was quiet, air-con humming. The master bedroom door was cracked open just a few inches, like someone forgot to close it properly. Curiosity hit me like a drug. I nudged it wider with one finger.

And there she was.

Marco’s mom. Early 40s, the kind of woman who makes every friend of her son lose the ability to speak when she walks into a room. She was sprawled on her stomach, deep asleep, afternoon nap after whatever workout hot MILFs do. Tiny pink floral camisole ridden up under her heavy tits, no bra, dark nipples faintly visible through the thin fabric. And below the waist… absolutely nothing. No shorts, no panties, just endless smooth skin and that perfect, round, heart-shaped ass aimed straight at the door.

One leg bent, knee pulled high, so her pussy was completely on display. Swollen, glistening in the strip of sunlight from the curtains. Bare except for a tiny trimmed strip. I stood frozen, cock instantly aching, heart slamming so hard I thought the sound alone would wake her.

I had maybe thirty seconds before someone noticed I was gone.

I stepped inside, eased the door almost shut behind me, and moved like a ghost. Hand shaking when it made first contact: fingertips on the warm curve of her ass. Softer than silk. She didn’t stir. I spread my palm, cupped one full cheek, squeezed gently. Still nothing, just slow, deep breathing.

I was gone.

I slid lower, tracing the crease where thigh meets heaven, then let two fingers glide right between her lips. She was soaked. Like she’d been dreaming something filthy minutes ago. I parted her gently, watched that pretty pussy open for me, pink and dripping. Slid my middle finger inside, just one knuckle, then two. Tight, scorching, pure velvet. She let out the tiniest sleepy moan, hips shifting the slightest bit. I froze, balls tight, terrified and more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.

Ten seconds left.

I pulled out slow, fingers slick with her, yanked my joggers down just enough and wrapped my hand around my cock. Two strokes, three, aimed right at that perfect thigh. I exploded instantly, thick ropes shooting across her smooth skin, painting her from the back of her knee all the way up to the curve of her ass. Some landed directly on her pussy lips and dripped down slow and nasty.

I watched my cum mark her while she slept through the whole thing.

Panic crashed in. I snatched tissues from the nightstand, wiped the worst off her thigh as gently as humanly possible. A thin streak stayed glistening near her lips, but there was zero time left. I tucked myself away, slipped out, left the door exactly how I found it. Walked back to the dining table like nothing happened. Sat down, opened my laptop, hands still shaking and reeking of her.

Marco glanced up. “Took you long enough.”

“Stomach thing,” I lied, voice perfectly calm.

She never appeared the rest of the afternoon. I kept picturing my load drying on her skin while she napped, wondering if she’d wake up later, feel it, rub it in without ever knowing it was me.