Sore About Her Test Score

Reagan Foxx chops onions and her knife stops mid-stroke when Leana Lovings walks through the door with a smile too wide to be real. The girl offers to help. Reagan watches her stepdaughter slice carrots like the blade might apologize for something. Too sweet, too quick, too careful. She sets her own knife down. “Out with it.” Leana sighs, shoulders dropping, and the admission tumbles: another failed test. Reagan wipes her hands on a dish towel, then reaches for Leana’s waistband. Denim slides down warm skin and pale cheeks fill her palms. The first slap lands sharp, flesh quivering. Heat gathers low in Reagan’s belly with every strike. She feels the sting on her own hand and the answering pulse between her thighs. Soon her mouth finds Leana’s, open and hungry, tongues meeting while fingers slip beneath lace. Reagan presses the girl against the counter, lingerie straps sliding off shoulders, nipples brushing nipples, breath turning ragged. She bends Leana over, palms spreading her cheeks wider, tongue tracing the crease before sinking two fingers deep. Leana moans into the granite as Reagan’s mouth works lower, sucking and licking until her stepdaughter trembles. Reagan straightens, tugs her own bra aside, and pulls Leana’s face to her bare breasts, nipples stiff and aching. Then she lifts the smaller girl onto the counter, spreads her legs, and grinds their slick cunts together, clit on clit, hips rolling hard and fast until both women shake and gasp, sweat-slick and spent against cool tile.