Don't Tell Daddy: Part One

August Ames has changed since Janice dragged her out of her shell and straight into tongue-first bliss. The old August lived between textbook pages. Now she wants nights spent between thighs, mouths, breasts that overflow her palms. India tried to leash her. Every rule, every lecture, every punishing moan left India hotter and August harder to hold. India filed for divorce. A fresh ring slid onto her finger. New stepsister. New hunger. Abella arrives home in her school skirt, knuckles tapping August’s door. She cracks it open, soft voice asking if they can talk. Once inside, her eyes trail over August’s body like fingers already cupping her. August grins, recounting desert nights and the moment she first pressed her face between a dripping pussy and felt home. Abella’s breathing stutters. She hates the thought that this is wrong, but her clit throbs louder than her conscience. They crash together. Hands dive under cotton, palms stuffed with heavy tits, nipples pinched stiff between thumbs. Abella sinks onto the bed, knees bent, cunt glistening. August doesn’t wait. Her tongue splits slick lips, flicking, sucking, three fingers curling up to the knuckle, tongue never missing Abella’s clit. Abella’s thighs shake, back arches, orgasm spills straight into August’s open mouth in a hot, choking rush. Panting, Abella rolls over, eyes molten. "I want to be your favorite," she whispers, sliding two fingers between August’s folds. Her tongue dips in. Wet, greedy, determined to own the title.