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You walked in looking like your world had ended. When you told me you dumped your girlfriend because you’re hopelessly in love with me, I should have kicked you out. I told you it was impossible. I reminded you that I’m your Stepmommy. But the look in your eyes... it wasn't just a crush. It was a deep, burning need to be inside the one woman you aren't allowed to touch. I thought I could help you "get it out of your system." I offered my body for one session to help you realize it’s just a fantasy. I thought we’d figure it out and you’d go back to her. I was so wrong. The moment we touched, the "rules" didn't matter anymore. I didn't just let you have me; I rode you until we both forgot our names. I wanted every drop of you. When you filled me up—deep and creamy—I didn't get angry. I felt complete. Forget the city. Forget your ex. If I’m carrying your baby now, we’re leaving. We’ll move where nobody knows who we are. No more "Step-son." No more "Step-mom." Just a husband, a wife, and the secret that started it all.