Washing Away My Step-Daughter's Sins

Kristen was thrilled when Ariella dragged her to Vegas. She just wanted to dance, to sweat under the lights, to feel wanted in a crowd. Ariella insisted on galleries and light shows. Same old control. So the girl slipped out anyway, glitter and gloss painted on thick, lavender hem barely covering her bare ass. When she crept back in, her stepmother was waiting. Ariella took one look at the sparkles, the nipple rings catching the hall light, and her mouth thinned. "In the bath. Now." Water rushed into the tub. The washcloth dragged over cheekbones and collarbones, down breasts, until Ariella froze: nothing underneath the dress, smooth waxed lips between those slim thighs. She scrubbed anyway. Kristen snapped, defending every teenage impulse she still had left. Ariella softened. The satin robe dropped, massive tits swaying free, and she stepped in behind the girl, pulling her back against wet skin. The water warmed. Her washcloth moved lower, circling Kristen’s clit in careful strokes. Kristen twitched. Ariella didn’t stop. Licked instead. Soft tongue flicking, then lapping deeper. The cloth traced the tight ring of Kristen’s ass while she kept sucking the swollen clit between her lips. Kristen broke first—hips jerking, soft cries cut short as she pulsed against Ariella’s mouth. Later, the glitter still stuck; this time it was Kristen who crawled between her stepmother’s thighs, tongue working just as stubbornly until Ariella gripped the edge of the tub and shuddered.