Tossing And Turning

Reagan hears the sheets rustle down the hall and steps into her stepdaughter's bedroom. Gia's eyes snap open, wide and startled, breath coming in quick bursts. "Nightmare?" Reagan asks. Gia shakes her head, face flushed, then admits she wasn't scared—she was wet, picturing Reagan's mouth on her tits, her tongue working between her legs while Gia pulled her closer. Reagan's pulse jumps. She asks for more. Gia keeps going, describing how she imagined Reagan fingering her deep, licking her clit until she shook. Both of them are breathing hard now, nipples tight under thin cotton. Reagan leans in, lips barely an inch from Gia's. The kiss lands hot and hungry. Clothes hit the floor fast. Reagan's thigh pushes between Gia's, skin on skin, every slick grind matching the frantic beat of their hearts. Fingers slip lower, tongues taste sweat and want, the line they never thought they'd cross burning away in the dark.