Daughter-Mom Combo

Dee and Vienna strut into the parlor with their arms full of fancy bags, smelling like money and expensive perfume. Lucas looks up from the desk and flashes that customer-service grin. No appointment? He almost winces. One free slot left, and another client’s already booked after. Somebody’s gotta lose. They pout like he just ran over their dog. Dee opens her mouth first, Vienna shoots back, and pretty soon they’re hissing at each other about whose feet hurt worse. Finally Dee claps her hands. “Share the hour,” she says. “Rub us both at once.” Vienna squeals like it’s genius. Lucas tries to object—hands only stretch so far—but the two of them close in with flirty smiles and smooth talk until he caves. He leads them to the couples room, two tables side by side. “Usually there’s two of us,” he mumbles. “I’ll just split the time.” Tells them to strip and get comfortable, then steps out. The minute the door clicks, Dee drops her bags and starts peeling off her blouse. “Bet he jerks off thinking about clients like us,” she purrs. Vienna snorts. “Please, you’re ancient. He’ll want this tight little body, not some over-the-hill trophy wife.” Dee’s laugh is ugly. “Sweetheart, barely-legal only works until the first time he gets a woman who actually knows what she’s doing.” They’re still bickering when they climb naked onto the tables—decide towels are optional. Lucas knocks. Two sugary voices chirp, “Come in.” He freezes for a second, eyes flicking over bare asses and tan lines, then swallows whatever policy spiel he was about to give. “Who’s first?” he asks. Another shouting match. “Left it is,” he blurts, cutting them off. He starts on Dee. She arches and moans like a porn star, loud enough to make Vienna’s jaw clench. Two minutes later Vienna snaps, “My turn, Romeo.” He switches sides. Vienna coos about her yoga-tight thighs and how his strong hands feel “so deep.” Polite nods from Lucas, but he’s clearly wondering what circus he walked into. Dee groans, rolls her eyes, demands him back. He zigzags between tables while the requests get filthier—thumbs brushing under breasts, palms squeezing ass, fingers drifting so high on inner thighs they almost graze wet lips. Every switch earns him fresh complaints that he’s playing favorites. By the end he’s red-faced and breathing hard. Vienna giggles, running a nail down his forearm. “Poor baby, we wore you out.” Dee smirks. “Such a trooper, though. How should we thank him?” They slide off the tables and sandwich him, hands already tugging at his shirt. He stammers about it being “inappropriate,” especially with a mom and daughter in the room. Dee’s nails trace his fly. “Step-mother. And trust me, I’m way too hot to be her real mom.” Vienna rolls her eyes but doesn’t move away. “We won’t tell if you don’t,” Dee whispers. Both women lean in at once, lips on his neck, teeth nipping his ear. Lucas’s eyes flutter shut, a low moan slipping out before he can stop it.