Quarter Dryer

Christie Stevens jammed her arm way into the dryer trying to grab that stupid quarter. Stuck tight, ass hanging out, she couldn't wiggle free. Alex Jett strolled in, saw the situation, and didn't hesitate. He grabbed her hips, yanked her back, pants sliding down with the motion. Her ass popped free and his hands stayed right there, gripping that thick flesh. He gave it a squeeze like it was already his to take. Christie glanced back, half smirk, half dare. Alex grinned, cocky as hell. He smacked one cheek, watched it jiggle. Then he pressed in close behind her, letting her feel exactly what the view did to him. No words needed after that—just heavy breathing and the dryer door still open. Alex slid his hand between her thighs, teasing that wet heat through her panties. Christie moaned low, pushing back against him, egging him on. He tugged the fabric aside and fingered her rough, knuckles slick in seconds. Christie bit her lip, reached back to grab his wrist, guiding him deeper. The dryer rattled quietly while they kept going, stepmom and stepson alone, heat rising fast.