Mommy Games

Uma's glued to the screen when Brandi walks in, talking about school like it's the end of the world. No reaction. Uma just keeps playing. Hours later, Brandi gets home and hears the same clicking coming from upstairs. She steps inside the bedroom, sees her stepdaughter locked in again. This time she doesn't bother with words. She sits behind Uma, hands sliding under the thin top, cupping her small tits, rolling the stiff nipples between her fingers. Uma's avatar dies. She tries to keep going anyway. Brandi drops her lips to Uma's neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks, and her free hand slips inside the sweatpants, finding damp cotton. She strokes the lips through the fabric, slow circles that make Uma's thumbs slip off the buttons. They end up facing each other on the mattress. Bras hit the floor. Hands grab whatever they can: small handfuls, tight handfuls, nipples twisted until both girls hiss. Brandi's legs spread; Uma rubs the older woman's swollen clit through soaked panties, then dips two fingers inside. Brandi moans, pulls Uma's wrist closer, fucks herself on her stepdaughter's hand. The switch comes fast. Both naked now, they crawl into a sixty-nine, tongues flicking and fingers sinking deep at the same time. Wet noises fill the room, their breathing louder than the game that's still running on mute. Brandi pulls Uma onto her back, spreads her wide, slides two fingers in to the knuckle and pumps until juice runs down her wrist. She licks it off in long stripes, then switches. Uma does the same to her, three fingers now, curling, fast. Neither one talks, only the sounds of skin and sex and the faint click of the unattended controller on the floor.