Out Of Control Stepdaughter

Mindi cornered Shyla after the ceremony. She’d watched her new stepdaughter’s outburst and now wanted answers. They stood chest-to-chest in the hallway while Mindi demanded to know why the girl hated her. Shyla unloaded fast. She called Mindi trash, judged her for dancing naked on a stage while Shyla’s real mother taught Sunday School. Her lip curled when she said the word immoral. Mindi pressed closer until their mouths nearly touched. She told Shyla that maybe her mother’s marriage fell apart because the woman never learned how to fuck, that keeping her legs shut wasn’t attractive. Shyla’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move away. Mindi slid a hand up the inside of Shyla’s thigh and felt heat radiating from her panties. She slipped the thin cotton aside and stroked two fingers between slick folds. Shyla gasped, opened wider. Mindi kissed her then, slow and deep, tongue claiming the girl’s mouth while her fingers worked deeper, coaxing wetness that coated her knuckles. When Mindi dropped to her knees she pulled Shyla’s panties down and pressed her mouth to the swollen clit, sucking gently at first. Shyla shuddered, grabbed fistfuls of Mindi’s hair, and rolled her hips forward. Mindi licked faster, tongue dipping lower to thrust inside each time the girl moaned. Shyla came once standing, then again bent over the hallway table, legs shaking as Mindi’s fingers stroked the spongy spot behind her pubic bone. Shyla turned eager after that. She pushed Mindi onto the bed and stripped her bare. She nuzzled between Mindi’s full breasts, licked the hard nipples, then spread her stepmother’s legs wide. She flattened her tongue against Mindi’s glistening lips and dragged upward, savoring the taste. Mindi’s clit throbbed; Shyla sealed her lips around it and sucked until Mindi arched and flooded her chin. They kept going until the sheets were damp and both women lay panting, thighs trembling. Mindi reached for Shyla again, two slick fingers sliding straight back inside her stepdaughter. Shyla answered by curling two fingers into Mindi at the same angle. They came once more together, foreheads touching, mouths open, fingers working each other until the aftershocks faded. Afterward the room smelled like sweat and sex, and neither seemed eager to call the truce a mistake.