Finnish Dinner

Lana Roy sprawled on the couch, fingers working between her legs, porn flickering across the screen. Kinuski Kakku stepped in and froze. Heat pooled low in her belly even as her face burned. The girl looked up, lips parted, hips still rolling. Neither said a word. Lana spread wider, letting her see everything. Kinuski swallowed hard, pussy clenching around nothing, and the distance between them snapped shut. She sank beside her, knees knocking, breath shaky, then their mouths crashed together. Hands clawed at clothes. Lana shoved her stepmother back and climbed over her, grinding bare cunt against Kinuski’s thigh while the little moans the girl had made for the video now spilled straight into her stepmother’s mouth. Kinuski’s skirt bunched at her waist, panties yanked aside, and two slick fingers pushed inside her so deep her eyes rolled. Lana rode her own hand, slick dripping down her wrist, the wet sounds louder than the actors on screen. They moved like animals, teeth on necks, nails in skin, legs tangled, fucking on the same cushions where Lana had started alone. Every filthy thrust and grind dragged them further past the line they both knew they shouldn’t cross, and neither of them stopped.