She reached back instantly, spreading herself wide, showing everything.
I leaned in and dragged my tongue from her clit all the way up to her asshole, slow and filthy. She jolted, moaned loud into the sheets.
"Alex—"
I didn’t answer. Just buried my face deeper.
I licked her pussy like I was starving, tongue pushing inside her, fucking her with it, tasting how wet she was for . Then higher, circling her little hole, pressing the tip in, tongue-fucking her ass while she shook and sobbed.
"Oh my god... yes... eat ... please..."
I kept switching, tongue deep in her pussy, then her ass, over and over, sloppy and nasty, her thighs trembling, juices running down my chin. I shoved two fingers into her pussy while I tongue-fucked her ass, curling them hard, hitting that spot that made her scream.
She was shaking, close again, so I stood up, lined my cock with her dripping pussy, and pushed in slow.
One long, deep slide until my hips pressed against her fat ass.
"Fuck... Alex..." she moaned, pushing back, taking every inch like she was made for it.
I started moving, slow and deliberate, pulling almost all the way out, then sinking back in, feeling her walls flutter and grip . My hands gripped her hips, thumbs digging into those soft dimples above her ass, watching the way her cheeks jiggled with every thrust.
We were lost in it. The room filled with wet sounds, her breathy moans, my low groans. Nothing else existed.
Minutes blurred. I leaned over her, chest to her back, one hand sliding under to rub her clit slow while I fucked her deep and steady. She was trembling, whispering my na like a prayer, completely gone.
Then the door opened.
No knock. Just the soft click of the lock and the creak of hinges.
We didn’t hear it at first.
I was too deep inside her, too focused on the way her pussy clenched every ti I bottod out. Tiffany was too lost, face buried in the pillow, ass up, moaning into the sheets.
But then I felt it: cool air from the hallway.
I turned my head slow.
Tiffany did too.
Standing in the doorway was a girl.
Blonde hair, big blue eyes, full lips: an eighteen-year-old maybe, carbon copy of Tiffany, only younger, tighter, perkier. Sa killer curves, sa pouty mouth, but fresh. Innocent. Shocked.
Those heavy tits straining against a tiny crop top, that round ass packed into little shorts, everything firr, newer, innocent in the hottest way.
She had a key in one hand, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder like she’d just co ho from sowhere.
Her eyes were wide, mouth open behind her hand, staring straight at us.
At , balls-deep inside Tiffany, her fat ass still spread wide, my cock glistening with her cream, her face flushed and wrecked from coming.
We all froze.
Tiffany’s pussy clenched hard around : shock, guilt, sothing darker. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t scream. Just stared at the girl, breathing hard.
The girl didn’t move either.
Just stood there, hand over her mouth, eyes locked on where I was buried inside Tiffany.
Not running. Not screaming.
Watching.
Like she couldn’t believe it... but didn’t want to look away.
The girl’s hand dropped from her mouth, eyes huge, voice cracking.
"Mom... what are you doing?"
Her gaze flicked from Tiffany’s wrecked face down to where my cock disappeared inside her, then back up.
"Who... who is he?" she whispered, but she didn’t step back. Didn’t look away. Her cheeks were bright red, nipples poking hard through that tiny crop top now.
I tried to pull out slow, instinct kicking in, but Tiffany’s hips pushed back on their own, keeping buried. Her pussy fluttered and squeezed like the words "mom" and the sight of her daughter watching had flipped so filthy switch.
"Tiff—" I started, voice rough.
She cut off with a shaky breath, still staring at the girl, still clenching around like she couldn’t let go.
"Baby... close the door," Tiffany finally said, low and trembling.
The girl’s hand moved to the doorknob, but she didn’t shut it yet.
She just stood there, breathing faster, eyes locked on us, thighs pressing together like she couldn’t help it.
And I swear Tiffany’s pussy got even wetter.
"Brittany... baby, close the door," Tiffany repeated, voice shaking, but she didn’t move an inch. If anything her hips rolled back just a little, keeping deep, like her body had decided it wasn’t done yet.
The girl hesitated, knuckles white on the doorknob. Her eyes flicked from her mom’s flushed face to where my cock disappeared inside her, then back up. She swallowed hard.
"Mom... you’re... you’re actually..." Her voice cracked. "With him? Right now?"
I tried again to ease out (slow, careful), but Tiffany’s pussy clamped down so tight it almost hurt. A soft, involuntary moan slipped out of her.
"Brittany, please," Tiffany whispered, breathless. "Just... co in and shut the door. We’ll... we’ll talk."
Brittany stepped inside like she was in a trance, letting the door click shut behind her. The duffel bag slid off her shoulder and hit the floor with a soft thud.
She stood there in the middle of the room, crop top riding up just enough to show a strip of tanned stomach, tiny shorts hugging that perky little ass. Her nipples were rock-hard now, poking straight through the fabric.
Tiffany’s breathing was ragged. She finally looked back at over her shoulder, eyes glassy with panic and sothing else (sothing hungry).
"Alex... don’t move," she mouthed, so low only I could hear.
Then louder, to Brittany: " Sweetie... this isn’t... aahh... I an..."
Brittany took one tiny step closer, voice barely above a whisper. "You said Dad was the only one... you always told ..."
Tiffany’s walls fluttered again, squeezing in waves. A fresh rush of wetness coated my cock. She bit her lip so hard I thought she’d draw blood.
"I know what I said," Tiffany managed, voice trembling. "But your dad’s gone... and I... I needed..."
She couldn’t finish. Another tiny roll of her hips, like her body was betraying every word coming out of her mouth.
Brittany’s gaze dropped again, fixed on the obscene sight of still buried inside her mom. Her chest rose and fell faster.
"You’re... still inside her," she said, almost to herself. "She’s... she’s full of you right now."
Tiffany let out a broken little moan at the words. Her pussy clenched so hard I had to grip her hips to keep from thrusting.
"Brittany," Tiffany tried again, softer, "baby, co here. Sit down. Let explain—"
But Brittany didn’t sit.
She just stood there, thighs pressed tight together, cheeks burning, staring like she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
And I swear, the longer she watched, the wetter Tiffany got around .
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