Little Red: A Lesbian Fairy Tale: Part Four

Mrs. Riding came to me first through tears of joy over the phone. The social worker had found my husband’s granddaughter and wanted to place her with me. I hadn’t raised a child of my own, so the chance felt like grace. I dressed for her first visit the way a woman dresses for her first grandchild—soft cashmere, pearls, the faint smell of rose water. When Red stepped into the doorway I saw the grandmother in her face and felt the old longing kick. She hugged me like she meant it. Then Wolf arrived, uninvited, and everything changed. She took the simple welcome kiss I meant for Red and turned it into an open-mouthed claim on the girl’s tongue, a wet, lewd spectacle. After that the room belonged to Wolf. I stepped aside. What followed was the oldest kind of schooling: Wolf pulling away Red’s cotton dress, baring thin hips, small breasts with pale, tightening nipples, sliding her long fingers over every inch until Red’s breath came shallow. Wolf worked her open—first with tongue, then two knuckles, then three—until the girl’s thighs shook. Their pussies met soon after, wet and flushed, Wolf grinding down hard enough that the slap of flesh reached where I stood in the corner. Red took every thrust. When they finally collapsed across my bed, slick skin glowing, chests heaving, Wolf slept and left an opening. I undressed in silence, climbed behind my granddaughter, cupped her damp cunt with gentle fingers, and slid inside. She was slick, still twitching. She moaned but didn’t wake. This time I set the pace.