Melody couldn't wait. She hauled Hazel home for the long weekend, ready to impress Roger. Hazel, the bold one, the one who'd already done it all, listened without blinking when Melody admitted she needed help getting better with her mouth. "Grab an eggplant," Hazel told her. So they did, and Melody knelt there, trying to get it right. Just working that thick vegetable over her tongue. Brad walked in. He saw the pair of them on their knees, the eggplant slick and shining in his stepdaughter's grip. His eyes narrowed. He knew Hazel's type, the dangerous kind, the bad influence. He barked her name, told her they needed a word in private. Hazel followed him, half-smiling, all sway and sass. But something in the room snapped. She dropped to her knees for the real thing: Brad's heavy cock. Fat. Veined. Hot. She took every inch fast and messy, spit dripping down her chin. Brad tried to be the good guy, told himself to stop, but his hands found her hair and then he spun her, bent her, drove into her from behind in hard, quick thrusts that rattled the furniture. Melody caught them. Red-faced. Livid. She slammed the door behind her. Hazel chased her down the hall, cornered her in the bedroom, and whispered the truth: Brad would make the perfect test dummy. Melody hesitated. But the offer was real, and the urge won. They pulled him back. Two mouths working him over this time, Hazel coaching, Melody catching on quick. Wet sounds. Gasps. Brad's cock twitching in their fists. It didn't stay at sucking. They needed more. They peeled their clothes off, climbed him, rode him, took turns splitting themselves on that thickness. Melody came first, thighs shaking. Then Hazel, riding like it was a race. Brad pushed them together, face down, stacked their asses, and alternated between their dripping cunts. He fucked them hard. He switched holes without warning, grunted low when they moaned into the sheets. When he finally pulled out, both girls knelt for it. Brad painted their faces white, cum streaking down their cheeks. The fireworks outside couldn't touch the mess inside.
Melody couldn't wait. She hauled Hazel home for the long weekend, ready to impress Roger. Hazel, the bold one, the one who'd already done it all, listened without blinking when Melody admitted she needed help getting better with her mouth. "Grab an eggplant," Hazel told her. So they did, and Melody knelt there, trying to get it right. Just working that thick vegetable over her tongue. Brad walked in. He saw the pair of them on their knees, the eggplant slick and shining in his stepdaughter's grip. His eyes narrowed. He knew Hazel's type, the dangerous kind, the bad influence. He barked her name, told her they needed a word in private. Hazel followed him, half-smiling, all sway and sass. But something in the room snapped. She dropped to her knees for the real thing: Brad's heavy cock. Fat. Veined. Hot. She took every inch fast and messy, spit dripping down her chin. Brad tried to be the good guy, told himself to stop, but his hands found her hair and then he spun her, bent her, drove into her from behind in hard, quick thrusts that rattled the furniture. Melody caught them. Red-faced. Livid. She slammed the door behind her. Hazel chased her down the hall, cornered her in the bedroom, and whispered the truth: Brad would make the perfect test dummy. Melody hesitated. But the offer was real, and the urge won. They pulled him back. Two mouths working him over this time, Hazel coaching, Melody catching on quick. Wet sounds. Gasps. Brad's cock twitching in their fists. It didn't stay at sucking. They needed more. They peeled their clothes off, climbed him, rode him, took turns splitting themselves on that thickness. Melody came first, thighs shaking. Then Hazel, riding like it was a race. Brad pushed them together, face down, stacked their asses, and alternated between their dripping cunts. He fucked them hard. He switched holes without warning, grunted low when they moaned into the sheets. When he finally pulled out, both girls knelt for it. Brad painted their faces white, cum streaking down their cheeks. The fireworks outside couldn't touch the mess inside.
