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The fourth wall shatters as your step-mommy, a vision in a sheer nightgown, climbs into your bed. Her breath is hot on your ear as she tells you she's been having naughty thoughts, thoughts about you. She runs a finger down your chest, pausing at your waistband. "Can Mommy play with you tonight, sweetheart?" she asks, her voice a sultry purr. You nod, and she smiles, her hand slipping inside your boxers. She strokes you, her touch light yet firm, her dirty talk a symphony of pleasure and pain. She edges you, over and over, her laugh a sweet torture as she brings you to the brink only to pull back. "Not yet, baby," she whispers, "Mommy wants to hear you beg."