I'm Allergic To Clothes

India Summer walks into her stepdaughter's room and drops her purse on the bed. Gianna Dior's fingers rake over her skin. The itch won't quit. India pulls out her phone and tells her an allergy to clothing might be the cause. She read there's one simple fix: get naked. Stay that way. Let everything breathe. Gianna looks stunned—step-mom's only been in the picture three years. She's never seen her without clothes. India shrugs it off, says the itch won't leave if they don't try, and offers to strip too. Feeling less alone, Gianna agrees. They undress. The cooler air hits Gianna's body and she complains she is cold. India almost grabs a blanket, stops herself, and asks what if the fabric also itches? No use taking that chance. They stand there naked and uncertain until India steps in close, becomes big spoon, pulls Gianna into her warmth. She asks if her daughter feels any better. Still chilly, Gianna admits. India slides a hand around her and cups her pussy, rubbing slow, wet circles. She murmurs she can warm her up from inside. Gianna moans, hips already pushing against those fingers, her cunt slick and hot. India's free hand grips her breast now, rolling the nipple, finding new ways to turn her child's body into nothing but heat.