SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!

Chapter 511: Our Son Really Has Grown Up

The silence stretched between the three, thick and uncomfortable like a blanket soaked in cold sweat.

But they couldn’t just stand there forever like three statues caught in a moment of shared depravity.

If none of them spoke, it would become suspicious.

They would start questioning each other, wondering why the others were so quiet, so flushed, so...affected.

Fauna broke first.

Her voice came out small, flustered, and deliberately casual, the kind of casual that screamed I am absolutely not casual right now.

"So...that was...surprising, wasn’t it? What Mika was doing, I mean."

She immediately wanted to slap herself.

Surprising? That was like calling the ocean a little damp. But it was too late now.

Yelena seized the lifeline like a drowning woman grabbing a floating plank.

She cleared her throat, trying to sound indignant, but her voice came out several octaves higher than usual.

"S-Surprising? It was shocking! I can’t believe he would just—just do something like that! In a hospital. With a doctor he barely knows!"

She crossed her arms, attempting to look stern, but her hands were trembling slightly.

"He’s never mentioned her before, has he? I didn’t even know he knew her."

"Yes, exactly." Nadia snapped out of her daze and nodded quickly, perhaps too quickly.

"It’s completely inappropriate. We came here to deal with a crisis, and he’s...he’s..."

She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence without picturing it again.

The way Cecilia’s body had arched. The way her fingers had clawed at the sheets. The way her mouth had formed an O of pure, wordless ecstasy.

"Inappropriate?" Yelena’s voice rose to a near-squeak. "It’s beyond inappropriate. It’s—it’s shameless! Absolutely shameless!"

She shook her head, her hair swaying, and for a moment she looked less like a Battle Angel and more like a flustered schoolgirl caught passing notes in class.

"When I get my hands on that boy, I’m going to—to—"

"To what?" Fauna asked, her eyes wide with practiced innocence. "Ground him? Take away his allowance? He’s an adult, Yelena. A grown man. With a very..." She caught herself and quickly amended. "With a very...active social life."

"I don’t care if he’s an adult! I’m still his m-mother!"

Yelena’s voice cracked on the word "mother" and she had to look away, pretending to adjust her collar.

All three of them nodded vigorously, united in their pretend outrage. They spoke over each other, voices overlapping in a chorus of mock indignation that sounded less convincing with every word.

"He shouldn’t be doing that in a hospital—"

"—in the middle of a crisis—"

"—while we were standing right there—"

"—and with a woman we don’t even know—"

"—well I do know her. She’s my disciple Cecilia—"

"—Whatever. It’s still disrespectful—"

"—completely disrespectful—"

"—I’m going to give him a piece of my mind—"

But then Nadia spoke, her voice softer, more hesitant. She looked down at her hands, noticing how they were still slightly trembling.

"But...at the same time...he’s grown up now, hasn’t he?"

Silence fell again, but this time it was different.

The anger drained away, replaced by something more nostalgic.

Yelena’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. When she spoke again, her voice had lost some of its sharpness.

"He has." She acknowledged quietly. "It’s strange to think about sometimes. He was so small, so innocent once."

"I can still remember him as a child, running around with his childish dreams and his endless energy."

The momentary vulnerability in her tone seemed to give Fauna permission to add her own voice.

"I remember when he was just a little boy, running around the garden with his pants falling down because he refused to wear a belt."

"His little bottom would be hanging out for everyone to see, and he didn’t care at all."

Yelena’s lips twitched despite herself.

"And the time he tried to climb the big tree and got stuck halfway. He cried for an hour before I went up and got him."

Nadia smiled, a genuine, wistful smile that softened her usually stoic features.

"He used to fall asleep on my lap while I was reading reports. I’d look down and he’d be curled up like a kitten, sucking his thumb. Drooling on my papers."

Fauna snorted. "Do you remember that phase when he wanted to be a superhero and made Yelena sew him a cape? He wore that thing everywhere. To dinner. To bed. To official functions."

"To the bathroom." Yelena added, a real laugh escaping her. "He refused to take it off for two weeks straight."

"It smelled so bad by the end that we had to wrestle him to the ground just to wash it."

They laughed quietly, lost in the memories.

The tension between them also eased, replaced by shared nostalgia, the kind that only sisters who had raised a child together could feel.

"Do you remember his first day of school?" Fauna asked, leaning against the doorframe. "He pretended to be sick so he wouldn’t have to go."

"I checked his temperature three times before I realized he was faking. He had a thermometer under his armpit and everything."

"He got that from you." Yelena snorted. "You used to fake sick all the time to get out of training."

"Remember that time you claimed you had a rare disease that only affected people who did push-ups?"

"I did not!"

"Did too."

"Did not!"

They bickered for a moment, but it was light, affectionate. The old rhythm of sisters who had known each other their whole lives, who had fought together and bled together and laughed together.

Then Nadia, still lost in thought, murmured.

"He really has grown up quite a lot...."

Her mouth then kept moving before her brain could catch up as she added,

"...I mean, did you see how big he was down there?"

The words died on her tongue as immediate mortification crashed over her.

Fauna and Yelena stared at her, their expressions frozen somewhere between shock and disbelief.

Their mouths hung open. Their eyes were comically wide.

Seeing this, Nadia’s usual composure also shattered into a thousand pieces.

"I mean—I didn’t—that’s not—" She stammered, her voice climbing octaves she didn’t know she possessed. "I wasn’t—I was just—"

She then took a shaky breath and orced herself to stop.

Then, with a defeated sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul, she lowered her hands and met their eyes.

"Well, I’m not lying, am I?"

She tilted her chin up, trying to summon some semblance of dignity.

"He is really big down there."

Fauna and Yelena exchanged glances, a look of mutual, horrified understanding.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, as if confessing to a crime they hadn’t known they’d committed, they nodded.

"He...is." Fauna said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Very big." Yelena added, almost without thinking.

Then she blinked, as if surprised by her own words.

"I mean—that’s obvious. Anyone could see that."

Then, emboldened by Nadia’s admission or perhaps simply too far gone to stop, Fauna continued, her voice picking up speed as if she were confessing something long held back.

"I mean, the sheer size of it. It’s...it’s almost unbelievable. Like a third arm. A very...active third arm."

Yelena nodded vigorously, her hair bouncing.

"And the way he was using it—the control, the rhythm—it was like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he’s had a lot of practice. Like, a lot a lot."

"He must have." Fauna agreed, her voice dreamy. "He was completely in charge. Cecilia didn’t stand a chance. She was just...melting. Like butter in a hot pan. Like ice cream on a summer day. Like—"

"We get it." Yelena interrupted, though her own voice was equally distracted. "She was melting. He was in charge. We all saw it."

"Her legs were shaking." Nadia said quietly, her eyes distant, unfocused. "I’ve never seen a woman react like that. It was like she couldn’t control herself. Like her body belonged to him completely."

"Because she couldn’t." Yelena said, and there was something in her voice, a knowing quality, a hint of personal experience that she quickly masked with a cough.

"I mean, obviously. Anyone would. Under those circumstances. With...that."

Fauna nodded, her eyes glazed. "Did you see the way he held her hips? Like he knew exactly where to grip to make her lose her mind."

"And the sounds she made." Nadia added, then bit her lip, as if surprised by her own words. "I’ve never heard anyone make sounds like that. ."

"He didn’t even seem bothered by our presence." Fauna added softly.

"If anything, he seemed...amused. He was still completely focused on his own pleasure, completely in control of the situation."

They continued, each of them adding more details, more observations.

The way his muscles had tensed. The way Cecilia’s toes had curled. The way her back had arched, her breasts lifting, her nipples—

They were so caught up in their discussion that they didn’t notice how intimate it had become.

How they were speaking less like concerned mothers and more like women discussing a man they had all, secretly, been intimate with.

This went on until Nadia went too far and said,

"I’m trying to imagine what it would be like if we were to be in Cecilia’s and how Mika would—"

She stopped abruptly, realizing the dangerous territory her thoughts were venturing into.

Her eyes met Fauna’s.

Fauna’s eyes met Yelena’s.

Yelena’s eyes met Nadia’s.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Three women. Three mothers. Three sets of wide, panicked eyes.

They had said too much. Revealed too much.

The way they had spoken with such familiarity, such certainty, such graphic detail, as if they had experienced these things themselves.

Because they had.

Fauna’s face was pale, then red, then pale again. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish having a seizure.

Yelena’s lips were pressed together so tightly they’d disappeared. She looked like she was trying to physically prevent more words from escaping.

Nadia’s cheeks were the color of ripe tomatoes. She looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

But the awkwardness that had been threatening to consume them all came to a screeching halt when something slammed against the door from the other side.

BANG!

All three women jerked backward, their backs pressing flush against the opposite wall.

Then came the moans.

"Yes, Mika! Yes! Fuck me, fuck me hard! Fuck that tight little pussy of yours! God, I love it—I love it so much!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The door rattled in its frame. Cecilia’s voice grew louder, more desperate, completely unrestrained.

She had clearly forgotten or ceased to care that three women were standing on the other side, listening to every word, every gasp, every wet sound.