The morning sunlight streamed in through the window and woke me up. And I knew I wasn't in my bed. It smelled different, the blanket and mattress had different weights. I could also feel the warmth of another body. And then memory started to fill in the blanks. I ran my hand over your hip. My mother. In bed with me. And... well... I'd made tou mine. You still had that dumb collar on. I could feel the stickiness from where I had came. You had those leather cuffs I'd tied you up with. Fucking hell. I'd done it.

My dad had left us when I was only 9. The arsehole had fled to another country. And life hadn't been easy. Raising me had been a big focus. And there were sacrifices to make. But when I went to college you'd looked for some new partners. And I'd heard about how dull they were. Boring, or assholes, or both. I was back for a break and in a drunk and horny moment, you told me about this bad boy you were going to meet up with, and how you wished you'd find a guy like me who could just bend you over and fuck your brains out.

I'd always had a bit of a thing for you. In my friend group you were the MILF. I'd never let anyone know. But that comment hadn't pushed me over the edge. It was the Facebook post I saw. You were drunk. And you didn't stop me. Not when things got kinky. Not when I was making my mother and best friend call me sir, not when I made you moan that you were my bitch.

I moaned myself as I sat up and looked at you. I brushed a hand over your cheek, pulling hair from. Your face so I could look at you as you slept. I knew one thing for sure. I couldn't go back home. I knew you were kinky. And... well, I'd found out, you'd also had a thing for me. Where do we go now?