Stepsister Solidarity

Penny pushed into the bedroom to grab laundry and found the strap-on, rubber still faintly gleaming, on the nightstand like it owned the place. Her hand hovered over it, stunned for a second, then fury slammed back in. The door jerked open a second later as she jerked both girls inside by the wrist, slapped it in front of them. “Whose?” The question was razor-short. Liz and Jill traded looks, cool grins, half-smiles. Their shoulders touched. Nothing. “I want a name or I’m blistering both of you.” “Bring it,” Liz shot back, chin high. Jill echoed it, same hard sparkle in her eye. Penny spun Liz over first, held her down hard across the mattress. The first smack cracked loud. She peeled jeans down to bright pink ass cheeks, delivered another half-dozen while the little smack-happy wince grew into something more like a purr. Liz moaned. She actually laughed when the next slap stung harder, pushed her hips up like she wanted it. “Thought you said this would hurt,” she gasped. Jill yanked her shirt up, stripped fast, bent herself next, leggings hugging thick thighs. Penny switched hands, grip rough. Smack. Swat. Rinse, repeat. Jill let out this filthy little hum, low in her throat, over and over. The last slaps left twin handprints flashing hot. Penny stared at the straps, gleaming on the sheets. Felt something tighten low in her stomach. She snatched the harness, snapped it tight around her hips, rubber cock bobbing stiff. The girls watched, eyes glassy, daring her. Penny caught Liz by the back of the neck, pressed the tip against her folds. “Still feel like taunting?” “Do your worst,” Liz shot, voice breathier now. Penny slammed in once, jerked out, did it again. Liz grunted, gasped, hands clawing sheets. Penny shoved deeper, faster, letting Liz’s sarcasm blur into needy wet sound every thrust forced out. Jill climbed onto the bed, knees wide, watching her sister get fucked, breathing rough. Penny grabbed Jill’s hair, dragged her to the edge, shoved back inside Liz like a powerplay. Liz cursed sweet and soaked; Penny felt it. Smirked. Sweat pricked on her brow, short breaths catching despite herself. This wasn’t punishment anymore. It dripped with heat and something sharper. She yanked the harness off Liz, pushed Jill onto her back, legs up, and slid home. Jill bit her lip raw, arched, every inch that drove inside made her grin crack to whimper. “Shit,” Jill breathed. “Harder.” Penny thrust—fast, filthy. Plastic cock slick now, wet sounds loud. Liz crawled close, fingered between her own thighs, watched her stepsister’s face twist with every slap of skin. Penny felt the slick climb her own thighs, heat coiling tight, caught herself grinding on the harness base like it paid her back. All three panting, bodies tight, sweat-slick. Liz dragged Penny’s free hand to her throat and egged her on, pressing that rubber shaft harder. Penny didn’t hesitate. Fucked like it hurt, came at the rhythm same time Jill did, felt it grip and ripple. On a gulp Penny shoved harder, chasing her own abrupt spasm. She groaned, hips stuttering. The girls didn’t stop. Kept mocking between moans. Shattered or not, satisfied thrills thumped through every slap, every second Penny kept herself buried in the tangle of warm, defiant, shameless skin.