Crush On Mommy

Katie was folding laundry when her step-daughter, Scarlett, slipped in. She moved quietly, hands knotted at her waist. Katie took one look and set the shirt aside. “Spill it,” she said. Scarlett tried. Words came out in bits. After a few rounds of gentle prodding she got it out—she liked somebody and had no idea how to say it. Katie warmed at the trust. “I’m here,” she promised. “Ask me anything.” Scarlett’s next question landed softer than a breath. “How can you tell if they want you back?” Katie smiled, thinking of campus boys. “They’re simple. Talk to him and you’ll see it in his face.” Scarlett swallowed. “What if… she’s a girl?” The air shifted, but Katie didn’t pull away. “Same rule. Talk. Find out.” Scarlett still held back, so Katie pressed. Where had she met this girl? Class? A party? “A wedding,” Scarlett whispered. “Yours.” It hit Katie late but certain: the girl was her. Surprise flared, then eased into something warmer. She reached for Scarlett’s wrist. “You don’t pick who you want,” she said, voice low. Scarlett’s eyes asked the rest. Katie answered without speaking—her mouth on her step-daughter’s, slow at first, then deeper. Hands slid beneath cotton. Breasts met open palms, nipples tightened under fingertips. They sank onto the half-folded sheets, kisses turning frantic. Scarlett’s tongue traced a wet line down Katie’s belly and settled between her thighs. Katie gasped, fingers in dark hair. She answered in kind—spreading Scarlett open, tasting her, hips rolling against the mattress while the house stayed quiet around them. Every movement said the same thing: they’d both waited long enough.