Don't Say I Never Do Anything Nice For You...

Peter Green is older, and I still get stupid-wet just looking at him. We picked horror flicks we had no plans to watch, because all we wanted was to be alone and fuck loud once the credits rolled. Plans went to shit the second the front door slammed: my stepmom, Nadia White, bitching the second she saw him, calling our age gap sick, his intentions disgusting. Peter and I killed the lights early, crawled in without touching each other; no way we’d risk Nadia’s heels clicking down the hall. Wrong. I woke to the slick, obscene sound of a mouth working Peter’s cock, and when my eyes adjusted it was Nadia’s lips stretched tight around that fat shaft, her hand twisting the root. She muttered something about a "test drive" and smiled with her tongue out. Heat flared between my legs. I crawled over, took Peter’s balls in my mouth while she bobbed, then she grabbed my hair and shoved me down until my eyes streamed and spit ran down his length. Later, on my back, she pushed my knees wide and guided him inside me—deep, fast—and when he flipped her over, I dropped under to lick her cunt while Peter pounded her. She kept us tangled—stacking our hips, lining up our wet holes—so Peter could swap back and forth, hammering whichever pussy felt tighter. We begged for his load at the end, faces pressed together, tongues out, and he painted both of us—thick ropes across lips and lashes. Turns out Nadia wasn’t a total drag after all.