Nikki Brooks In Truth Or Dare With Step Mom

I want to boot up my game. Nikki sits on the living-room couch, green dress riding her thighs. She pats the cushion next to her like she owns the seat. “Truth or Dare?” she asks. I take the first round. She smirks and orders, “Ditch the shorts.” One heartbeat later I’m standing in boxers. “Why stop there?” she purrs. I throw it back: flash your tits. Fabric up, flash gone. The game cracks open. Next dare: she leans forward and slides her lips down my cock like she’s been dying to taste it. Every wet suck pops, cheeks hollow, eyes flicked up at mine. She pulls off, dares me to return the favor. “Holy fuck, where’d you learn?” she gasps while my tongue works. Her clit swells. Legs quiver. She lifts, bends at the waist, and angles her soaked pussy at me. “Just the tip?” she teases. I grab hips and slam deep, full thrust. Later she flips onto her back, ankles hooked over my shoulders. Eye contact. Pulse racing. I fuck until the pressure snaps and I spill hard inside her. She slips into my room hours later wearing black lace and heels, perfume thick. “Round two,” she whispers. “Lie here, no touching, no coming.” I last three minutes before my cock tents the sheet. She straddles, face hovering over mine, shaking ass and pussy centimeters from my mouth. Skin warm. Scent sweet. I rip the sheet, push inside. She drops fast, milking me—hot ring squeezing each stroke. I unload without warning. The second she squeezes for a third, I pin her on her back. “You beat your dad by a mile,” she moans. Faster rhythm, mattress squeaking, deeper, until I fill her again. A different night the door opens again, lingerie, heels—the same dare we’ve already lost every time. I end up balls-deep on top of her in minutes, pounding like the bed will break. She cums first, nails digging; the rhythmic clamp drags my own orgasm right after, the thick spurts painting deep.