With a furtive glance at the closed door, he unzips his pants, his 6-inch cock springing free, already hard and leaking. He loves the feel of his own hand, the tight grip, the steady rhythm. But it's the thought of his stepmother that really drives him wild. He imagines her walking in, catching him, her eyes widening, her breath catching. He picks up the pace, his hand flying, his balls tightening. He can feel it building, the pressure, the heat, the inevitability. And then he's coming, his cock pulsing, his seed spilling over his hand, a silent, shameful confession of his forbidden desires.