It's Stuck

Megan’s in her room, books open, when Cherie calls out in panic. Megan steps into the hall and finds her step-mother half-naked, chest flushed, eyes wide. The problem slips out fast: Cherie slid a toy inside before a third date and now it won’t come out. She needs her daughter’s small hand. Megan pulls back, offers excuses, but Cherie insists. Megan licks two fingers, slides them in. Nothing. Three more follow until her knuckles press Cherie’s slick entrance. Cherie gasps, hips rolling. The toy, she suddenly recalls, is still in the drawer. Her tongue darts out and cleans Megan’s glistening fingers. One orgasm later, Cherie wants to return the favor. She spreads Megan open on the bed, tongue moving slow, steady, until Megan’s resistance melts. Megan’s breath catches, then breaks. She leans in, drools over Cherie’s bare cunt and sinks her whole fist inside, wrist pumping. Cherie’s cries turn sharp. She squats, riding Megan’s hand, grinding her clit against the girl’s palm. Megan’s free hand finds her own wetness; she tongues Cherie’s tight rim while her fingers circle her clit. They finish pressed cunt to cunt, hips snapping in rhythm, wet folds sliding, until both women shake and the room smells thick with sex.