Handsy Daughter

Bailey bursts into Cory’s bedroom, still yelling for her stepmother. Cory sits propped against the headboard, book in hand, refusing to look up. When Bailey springs onto the mattress, Cory finally lowers the novel with a sigh and waits. “Look at these,” Bailey crows, lifting her shirt. “Bigger than yours now?” Cory’s eyes trace the curve of Bailey’s breasts. She smirks. “Implants cost money. They ought to be bigger.” Bailey reaches out and yanks at Cory’s neckline. Fabric tears, exposing full, round breasts. Cory swats at the girl’s wrist, too late. Both women kneel, chests pressed close, measuring. Bailey grins—she’s winning. She spins, peels her shorts down, and bends. “Check my ass, then judge.” Cory rolls her eyes but shoves her own leggings lower. Before she can right herself, Bailey’s palm lands on her lower back, pinning her. “Not done. Need everything compared.” Fingers slip between Cory’s thighs, parting her lips, thumb grazing her clit. Cory gasps and tries to crawl away, but the strokes have already melted her resolve. She rocks back onto Bailey’s hand. When Bailey’s tongue replaces those fingers, Cory’s protest dissolves into a low moan. She reaches behind her, clutches Bailey’s hair, and keeps her right where she is.