Mommy's Girl Update - The Jealous Daughter

Natasha shoves the door open with her hip. Alina and Jade dump their bags on the hallway floor as she points them upstairs to the only bedroom. One queen-size bed. Jade's face twists into a scowl. Natasha shrugs, says there's plenty of room for two, and bolts for the closet to hunt up her swimsuit. On her way out she catches Jade by the jaw and plants a filthy, open-mouthed kiss that rings like a challenge. Alina stands there, teeth clenched, watching their tongues slide together. The minute Natasha disappears, Alina corners her stepsister. She wants to know why the hell the woman kissed her like that. Jade grins, all teeth, and purrs that maybe Natasha just likes older pussy. Alina tells her to fuck right off; Jade snaps back, grabs a bikini, and storms down the hall. Jade finds Natasha in the master, still half dressed. She peels her top off and asks for lotion on her back. Natasha smiles, flips the cap, squirts a heavy line across pale skin. Her palms glide down, slow, deliberate, sliding lower until they hook the waistband. Jade arches and asks, voice dripping, why Natasha hasn't grabbed her tits yet. Permission is such a boring concept, Natasha answers, cupping both breasts from behind, rolling the nipples between her fingers. Jade spins, slams their mouths together. Alina hears the wet sound from the doorway and freezes. The bathroom mirror reflects Natasha's fingers working Jade open, Jade bent over, shorts around her knees, hissing every time Natasha's tongue dips in. Alina bolts back to her room. She throws herself on the mattress, too pissed to sit still. No Wi-Fi, no signal. Fury overrides every other thought and she marches back. Door open. No knock. The scene stops her cold: Natasha on her knees, face buried in Jade, Jade clutching the headboard with both hands, moans punching out of her like gunshots. Natasha doesn't let up. She sits back on her heels, lips shiny, and orders Alina inside. Alina stammers she just wanted to be included. Natasha studies her, then asks flat out if she’s jealous. Jealous of Jade getting all the attention. Alina looks at her feet. Natasha pats the mattress, says there’s no favorite—both girls belong to her—but maybe Alina never learned how close “special” can feel. Jade reaches between Natasha’s thighs, drags a finger through slick folds, and the sound Alina makes is half gasp, half hurt. Natasha turns, hooks a finger under Alina’s chin, kisses her deep. The bikini top comes loose; Natasha shrugs the straps off, heavy breasts falling heavy into Alina’s palms. Alina licks without thinking, nipple swelling under her tongue. Jade won’t be ignored. She drags her mouth up Natasha’s throat, fingers pumping between her legs, flicking the swollen clit with wet, lewd little sounds. Natasha groans into Alina’s hair, hips twitching. The competition just turned brutal—two mouths, four hands, both of them hell-bent on proving they’re the one Natasha can’t live without.