Caught With My Remote

Kenna’s home from college and Cherie’s smiling like she just won the lottery. They hug, then Kenna bolts off to get ready. What Cherie doesn’t know: that sweet pair of panties lying on the bed is wired. Built-in vibrator, controlled straight from Kenna’s phone. Later, when the family sits down to dinner, Kenna smirks and flicks the switch. Cherie goes stiff mid-sentence, eyes wide, trying to smile through the hum deep in her cunt. "Can somebody grab the damn bottle?" she barks, legs shaking under the table, pulse thumping between her thighs. Her husband’s clueless. Kenna’s cool as ice. Then dad steps out. Kenna drops, crawls under the tablecloth, and buries her tongue straight into that soaked pussy. Cherie’s about to lose it. The second her husband disappears for good, she yanks Kenna up by the hair and they tear into each other like they’ve been starved. Blouses pop open, skirts shoved up—Cherie fingers Kenna’s slick cunt while Kenna sucks hard on her tits. They grind, sixty-nine, flip, ride—Kenna licks Cherie’s asshole till her step-mom shudders and cums, again, again, thighs clamping around Kenna’s head. Too damn long apart. Too fucking good to stop.