Two is Better Than One

Gianna can't help herself. Every time she sneaks into her stepmother's room, the silk sheets and the faint scent of London's perfume make her pulse race. She's on the bed again, legs open, middle and ring finger working slow circles over her clit, then faster, deeper. The thought of getting caught only makes the ache sharper. Her breath hitches, a quiet whimper, hips twitching as she sinks two fingers inside and rocks against her palm, already soaked. When London opens the door, Gianna freezes, fingers glistening, caught mid-thrust. Instead of anger, London watches, eyes dark. "I've seen how you look at me," she says, stepping closer, voice low. "And you should know, I touch myself thinking about you too." She strips off her blouse, the fabric sliding down her arms as she joins Gianna on the bed, hand gliding over the girl's wrist, pressing those wet fingers deeper. "No more hiding," she murmurs, lips at Gianna's ear as she spreads her thighs and guides her stepdaughter's mouth to her own dripping cunt. Gianna moans, lapping eagerly, the air thick with the sound of wet skin and hurried breaths. London grabs fistfuls of Gianna's hair, grinding against her tongue, both of them unashamed now, fucking openly on the rumpled sheets they'd once shared only in secret.