MILF Desire System: The Degenerate Son's Forbidden Path

They kept at it the whole way onto the highway, arguing and laughing while the city thinned out around them and the route toward campus opened up, and Vespera drove the way she did everything else, clean and controlled and without a single wasted motion, hands easy on the wheel while she took her four-hundred-thousand-dollar truck through Manhattan traffic like she was returning a library book.

Damon watched her do it and still didn’t understand why she preferred a campus dorm to home when she came back every single weekend anyway.

Then again, not everyone liked being home the way he did, and he had four excellent reasons living under that roof and a fifth one who poured the coffee.

And wasn’t as if either of the girls had a bad relationship with their mother — nobody in that house did. Lilith was terrifying, but she was terrifying evenly; the way you don’t take it personally when it rains on you.

And still both of them kept a careful little distance from the place; Mara refused to sleep on the same floor as her and Vespera refused to sleep in the building at all all week long if she had the school option, then driving back every Friday like the house had a leash on her and a timer counting down the second she stepped out of it.

Damon genuinely did not get it.

He’d sooner leave a winning lottery ticket at a bus stop than voluntarily spend five nights a week away from a mansion that came fully staffed with beautiful, bored, criminally underappreciated women.

’Their loss and statistically, my gain.’

He glanced across at her at a red light and had a genuinely strange thought, which was that his sister had turned into an adult at some point without him realizing it happened.

There was nothing specific he could point at, no single thing that had changed, just the whole shape of her having settled into something finished—

A woman driving this car was not the same the sixteen-year-old who used to steal his headphones and deny it to his face while wearing them and give her another year or two and people were going to start mistaking her for Aunt Lilim’s younger sister rather than her niece, because Lilim had clearly signed some private contract with time and had not aged a day since Damon was in middle school.

It was a weird feeling now looking at Vespera , and not a bad one, just weird — like going back to your elementary school as an adult and discovering the water fountains came up to your knee.

Time had done something to her while he wasn’t looking, and time, in this family, was not a neutral party.

Time was working an angle.

Speaking of filling out...

...Vespera was doing it more every year, and another year or two of that and she would start looking like Aunt Lilim’s younger copy and since Lilim barely aged and with that combination of her tits and ass that was already a problem in this family, long blonde hair falling over one shoulder, grey eyes and her face that stayed serious even when she was laughing at him.

Vespera’s boobs wrecked way above average and round, sitting high in her top and her waist cutting in and into hips still coming into themselves; she was hot and yet still unfinished given her young age but it still made a man stare anyway.

And her ass, fuck, it collected itself in the seat like the leather had been poured around it and round in her skirt which was a short dark skirt but had rode up the second she had sat down ad it was now high on her thighs, almost high enough to flash her underwear if she so much as shifted wrong.

But Vespera had not bothered pulling it down.

Of course she would not walk campus like that. In public her skirts hit where her thighs started but in the car it was a different story since it had pulled itself up by mistake, okay yeah, but mistake.

The innermost stretch of her thighs was bare on the leather and he could see it; her soft skin and the hem had given up; Damon gave her one look and he looked out the windshield, got his phone out, and then poked the hornet’s nest anyway, because silence made him worse and he had never once met a quiet moment he didn’t want to ruin.

"So. Are you hiding a boyfriend from Mom, or something? Because if you hate being home and you’re—"

"Ew!"

That came out loud and immediate and Damon was sure he saw it slap around the cabin before it bounced off the baby-blue leather.

Damon paused with his thumb still on the screen. "Okay, that was suspicious. What are you hiding?"

She looked away and actual color came up in her face, a real brush of it high on the cheek, and something twisted in Damon’s gut that had nothing to do with her reaction and everything to do with the idea underneath it.

Vespera with some guy... some faceless bastard from her year with a dorm room and a plan and a group chat to be smug in afterward, putting his dirty hands on his sister!

The response of anger came up out of him fast and hot and entirely without a permit — he would find that man, he would break both of his hands at the wrist, and then he would attend his nine a.m. and take excellent notes—

—which was, he was aware even as he thought it, a genuinely psychotic position for him personally to be taking, given that at that exact moment he was a walking felony with a system installed for the express purpose of doing to other men’s women precisely what he was fantasizing about mutilating a stranger for maybe wanting to do to his sister.

’Yeah, I will kill the bastard anyways.’

The hypocrisy was total.

It was even breathtaking in its honestly, like an arsonist filing a noise complaint about a candle.

He examined it for about half a second, decided this was different — it was different, it just was, the way the rules were always different when they were your own and he moved on with his conscience intact and unbothered.

"It’s not—" Vespera said, still not looking at him. "It’s not like that. I’ll tell you."

The relief that hit him was so immediate it was embarrassing. "So it’s not a boyfriend?"

"Nope. I’m not interested in anyone yet."

"Not even that bastard—"

"Especially not him."

Confirmed, then.

Whatever she was sitting on, it wasn’t a guy but something else that made her snap the ew like the word had teeth in it and put color in a face that never gave anything away for free.

Damon settled back into the offensively blue leather and found himself weirdly, warmly at ease about the whole thing — which was a rich emotional position for a boy who had spent the morning watching a grown woman finger herself to completion and he was now on his way to build a website whose entire purpose was helping married strangers cheat on their husbands.

His moral compass didn’t point north so much as point at whatever he wanted and insist that was north. Fine. She could keep her secret.

As long as it wasn’t a man, the universe was welcome to its little mysteries.

The highway kept unspooling in front of them. Campus was still ahead, and orientation, and an advisor who was apparently a woman, and a website he intended to build with his own hands before the sun went down — and at the end of all of it, home again with Camilla and thirty-something hours left on an aunt mission he had not even started because he’d been too busy winning the morning!

He grinned out the window and let Vespera drive.

***

A/N: Wrote this while watching this Arsenal and Chelsea game.

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