Mommy Games

Uma sat glued to the screen when Brandi opened the bedroom door, reminding her of the time. Uma didn’t look away. That afternoon stretched into another, until Brandi came home to the same clicking sounds. Now the clothes came off in silence. Brandi pulled a nipple into her mouth while Uma pretended to keep playing, thumb paused mid-button. She licked and sucked until the controller slipped from Uma’s hand. Fingers traced the tight seam between the girl’s thighs, pressing denim until damp heat spread. Uma moved then, rolled, cupping her mother’s heavier breasts, thumbing the stiff peaks. They stretched side by side, grinding over each other, hands buried in slick folds. The room filled with wet noises and low breaths. They shifted again—Uma on her back, legs wide—Brandi driving two fingers knuckle-deep before bending to taste every drip off her daughter’s skin. Soon they reversed: Uma’s tongue busy while her mother rocked against her face. Their rhythm grew greedy. They pulled at hips, pinned wrists, licked until legs trembled, mouths shiny, breathing ragged.