Her Wandering Hands

Aaliyah's dad just married Cherie Deville and he's still the same protective, uptight man he's always been. He wants the new family to blend smoothly. Aaliyah wants something else entirely. The plan begins with a massage. Oil glistens under her hands, slow and deliberate. A massage turns into touches that wander. Soon the dress slips down Cherie's shoulders and falls to the floor. Aaliyah grabs her ass with both hands, squeezing, testing. She "accidentally" spills oil on her shirt, pulls it off, then presses her bare skin against Cherie's slick, warm back. Fingers move lower. They slide between folds, find the wet center, circle the clit in tight, steady strokes. Cherie gasps but lifts a hand in weak protest, muttering that it's wrong. Aaliyah keeps going. She works with patience, adding two fingers and curling them against the spot inside that makes Cherie's thighs shake. Then her tongue takes over, licking in quick, focused swipes until Cherie breaks, shaking and moaning into the sheets. That's when the door opens. Her dad's voice falters in the silence, eyes wide as the scene locks in front of him.