Sister's Mid-Life Crisis

Cherie DeVille sat across from her stepsister Kenzie Taylor, tension wound tight in her shoulders. Kenzie clocked it fast. "Spill it," she said. Cherie didn’t dance around it. A divorce. Years without a spark. Someone else on her mind—a woman. She hesitated, then locked eyes. That woman was sitting right across from her. Kenzie’s hand found Cherie’s, her voice steady. "I’ve got your back." But every touch lingered a beat too long. Cherie stared at Kenzie’s mouth while she talked, her words laced with hints. Finally, she dropped the mask. "I want to grow old with you." Kenzie jerked back like she’d been slapped. She paced, breath coming hard. Cherie’s fingers trembled. Panic crept into her chest. "I never meant to scare you away." Silence pressed between them until Kenzie’s expression cracked. She wanted it too. Fear, hunger, and a wanting she couldn’t name all rushed at her at once. They kissed like they were starved. Clothes hit the floor. Cherie’s tongue slid between Kenzie’s thighs and Kenzie moaned loud enough to break the ceiling. They dragged their slick cunts together, hips grinding, clits dragging wet and hot, until both of them shook and came, breathless and flushed, certain their bond had just gone scorched-earth deep.