Jealous of My Son: Part Two

Sarah Vandella wakes still wet from the dream that woke her. Blonde hair against the pillow, her mind already fixed on Molly Mae. She finds the girl in her room and tells her plainly: the dream showed them together. Molly hesitates, but when Sarah stands and peels off her robe, heavy breasts sway free, and any protest dies on the girl’s lips. Molly watches, wanting. Sarah steps close, takes one of Molly’s small nipples between her lips, sucks until it stiffens, then sinks lower. Her tongue parts smooth, young folds, tasting heat and salt, drawing soft cries from Molly. She stays there until the girl’s thighs tremble, then lets Molly climb over her face. They lock together, mouths busy, hips rocking, until both come hard, bodies shaking, breath lost to the same rhythm.