A Wish Come True

Brandi Love sits in the hard leather chair and says the quiet part out loud. The fit forty-something tells her therapist that the neighbor girl gets her wet—young, thick, trouble. Abella Danger. She sees her in a string bikini by the pool, ass bouncing, cheeks clapping like a dare. Brandi watches the teen bend, wiggle, slap that fat ass until the therapist’s clock ticks slower and the heat climbs. Abella knows. She looks over her shoulder, hooks a finger, walks inside dripping. Door clicks. Brandi follows. They don’t talk. Abella yanks the strings on her bottoms, bends at the waist, spreads. Brandi drops to her knees, tongue out, hungry. She eats the teen raw—long, slow licks that end in quick flicks over Abella’s swollen clit. Abella moans, pushes back, grinds on Brandi’s face till she’s shiny with spit and juice. Then Abella spins, shoves Brandi onto the couch, peels the older woman open. She buries her tongue deep, sucking Brandi’s fat lips, moaning like she found something sweet. Fingers slide in next—two, then three—while Brandi’s hips jerk and her cunt grips down. They trade places, trade spit, mouths crashing, tongues sliding, breath hot and ragged. The house stays quiet except for the wet sounds of pussy being fingered open and the slap of skin when fingers get rough. No one’s stopping. Not till both of them shake.