Mom Keeps Touching Me

Emily came home rested after two weeks away. She called for her father but heard another set of footsteps instead. Ryan appeared—his new wife. She introduced herself with a smile. Emily rolled her eyes and walked off. Later she sat in the living room with textbooks open. Ryan descended the stairs carrying a folded massage table, the legs clacking against the railing. She asked for a quick hand. Emily said she was busy. Ryan asked again. Emily sighed, stood, and helped open the legs and lock the supports. Ryan patted the cushioned surface and told her to undress. Emily said she had studying to do. Ryan promised a fast favor if she passed the same test later. Emily stripped, lay facedown, and tucked her arms beneath her cheek. Hands traveled shoulder blades, spine, hips. They slowed between her thighs. Emily lifted her head, eyes narrowed. Ryan’s voice was steady. The course is erotic massage. Emily let a grin spread across her face, then lowered her cheek again. Slippery fingers moved over her pussy in slow, patient circles. Ryan asked if it felt all right. Emily answered with a small hum of approval and spread her legs another inch. Both girls smiled at the quiet, mutual understanding now hanging in the room.