Mother Daughter Exchange Club #37

She tasted the wine, legs crossed, a thin silk dress riding high on her thighs. He watched the line of her collarbone when she drank. Outside, cold wind rattled the windows. Inside, the heat between them already pressed against the air. She set the glass down. Silence. He moved first. Hands on her knees. He spread them slowly. She did not stop him. The hem slipped higher, revealing skin without cover. His fingers slid along the edge of lace between her legs. He leaned in, mouth at her throat. When his tongue found the spot beneath her jaw, her breath caught hard. She pulled him down onto the couch. Legs open, dress hiked to her waist. He tugged the lace aside and pressed his tongue against her. Wet. She bucked once, twice. Her hands gripped his hair and held him there. She came quick—sharp, sudden—her thighs clamping tight around his head. He rose only when her grip loosened. His belt hit the floor. He dragged the thin fabric of her panties down her legs and slid into her without waiting. Hard. Deep. She moaned against his shoulder, teeth sinking in. He fucked her slow at first, long strokes, savoring each pulse around him. Then harder. Skin slapping skin. She arched, heels digging into his back. Her second orgasm hit fast and messy, her body going tight around him. He followed—grunting, spilling inside her, grinding down until the edge had passed. They stayed like that, sticky and tangled, breathing the same air. He kissed her again, softer this time. She tasted salt and wine and something sharp and sweet, like surrender.