Forbidden frustrations

Elexis slams the door shut so hard the frame rattles. Ingrid stands there, bare feet on hardwood, eighteen and trouble in cutoff shorts. She’s half Elexis’s age, all legs and soft mouth, and they both know this is wrong. Elexis doesn’t care. She crowds Ingrid against the wall, teeth gritted, and kisses her hard. Ingrid moans into it, hips twitching, nipples already tight under a thin tank top. They stumble toward the bedroom, clothes falling like accusations. Elexis shoves Ingrid onto the mattress and spreads her thighs wide. The girl’s cunt is smooth, pink, and slick with want. Elexis drops between her knees, tongue dragging slow, heavy, then fast—lapping, sucking, licking until Ingrid’s voice cracks and her thighs shake. She comes with a short scream. Elexis climbs on top, naked now, tits heavy, pussy wet. She pins Ingrid’s wrists, grinds down, rides the girl’s slim body until slick friction brings them both off again. Sweat sticks skin to skin. The sheets are wrecked. They’re still breathing hard when the front door opens downstairs. Elexis’s daughter, home early.