Can You Help Me?

Melissa Moore is losing her mind. She's stuck in bed with that goddamn ankle, bored out of her skull. Bridgette B walks in and sees her daughter looks like hell. Wants to help. Whatever it takes. Melissa lays it out flat: her girlfriend's gone and her pussy's screaming. Bridgette freezes. Steps away. Melissa's just short of begging now, tension crawling under her skin. The room goes still, then Melissa asks for skin. Just a look. Bridgette hesitates, pops a couple buttons, the swell of her bra spilling into view. Melissa says more, and those tits come out heavy and warm, nipples already tight. Melissa's hand is in her own panties before Bridgette can blink, fingers working in tight, impatient circles. Clothes come off. Melissa straddles her mother's lap, grinding their tits together, both of them slick with sweat. Bridgette tries to steady her breath, thinks about stopping, but her mouth is already open when Melissa shoves a breast between her lips. She sucks hard. Can't quit. They end up tangled, skin against skin, neither of them thinking straight, both of them gone.