Who Needs Dad?

Serene stood before the full-length mirror, easing a slinky dress down her curves. Aidra strolled in wearing a fitted number of her own, giving her step-mom a slow once-over. She told Serene she looked amazing. They’d been killing time until Dad came home, giddy to finally do something as a family now that Aidra was back from school. Then Serene’s phone buzzed. His text read like any other night: stuck at the office. Again. Serene’s shoulders dropped. Anger flickered hot under her skin—he’d skipped on Aidra too. The girl wrapped an arm around her, calling her dad a selfish prick, swearing none of his ex-wives had ever lasted under his neglect. Serene soaked in the steady comfort, hips angled closer, the scrape of their dresses warming their thighs. She admitted women always took better care of her, like that girlfriend from college who never rushed a touch. Heat crawled between them. Aidra’s fingers brushed lower, traced the swell of Serene’s breast, and Serene whispered that this was wrong, even while she pressed into the hand, hungry for more. Fabric whispered to the floor. Serene straddled Aidra’s thigh, sliding the slick heat of her tits along her pussy. Aidra gasped, then pulled her step-mom down, tasting her nipples, sinking two fingers inside. Serene rode them until her voice broke, then dropped between Aidra’s spread legs, licking and fingering until their moans tangled like heatwaves off asphalt. Dad’s name never crossed their lips again; neither of them needed it.