Baited At The Slumber Party

Slumber party at Freya’s. Kenzie asks about popcorn. The girls pass. Freya slips out to the bathroom. Arietta watches the way Kenzie’s stare lingers on Freya’s hips, the hunger plain and shameless. Arietta calls her on it. Kenzie deflects, lies, folds. The truth stumbles out anyway: yes, she wants her stepdaughter, badly. She knows she can’t have her. Arietta smiles, smooth as silk, offers the next best thing—herself. “I’ll wear the blindfold, and I’ll pretend I’m her,” Arietta whispers. Kenzie licks her lips and agrees. Midnight. Kenzie waits naked in her bed, blindfold tight, pulse hammering. Footsteps. The mattress dips. “Ready for your surprise?” Arietta asks. Kenzie nods, already wet. Fingers brush her thigh—Freya’s. Freya’s hand strokes the soft heat between her legs, tugs the panties down, then a warm tongue parts slick folds. Kenzie moans, legs opening wider, believing every careful lick comes from Arietta. Pressure builds. Kenzie’s fingers shake; she yanks the blindfold off. Shock freezes her when she sees Freya’s dark eyes looking up from between her thighs. Then heat replaces the shock. Her stepdaughter’s mouth never stops, and Kenzie’s hips roll instead of retreat. “Fuck it,” she breathes. “Don’t stop.” The three of them melt together—tongues, fingers, sweat-slicked skin—hungry, reckless, no turning back.