Vanity Runs In The Family

Natasha shows up with a mirror for Aften's room. She says it belongs right there on the dresser, then offers to try it out by brushing the girl's hair. Aften shrugs and sits down. Natasha works the brush through the red strands, slow and careful, her free hand sliding along Aften's cheek every few strokes, telling her how pretty she is. Lip gloss comes next. Natasha leans in, coats Aften's lips with shiny pink, then lets the tip of her finger linger at the corner of her mouth like an afterthought. Aften starts to notice the touches are running a little long. Her face warms. Still, she doesn't pull away. Natasha catches her eye in the glass and smirks. She steps closer, letting her body press against Aften's back, her fingers tracing the line of her jaw, then lower. The brush hits the floor. Aften's breath hitches, but she stays put. Natasha's hands keep moving, confident now, sliding under the hem of Aften's top. In the mirror they watch themselves, two brunettes looking flushed and ready. Clothes come off piece by piece. Natasha drops to her knees, spreads Aften open right there on the stool, tongue working fast while Aften grips the edge and stares at their reflection. Aften's small, shaved pussy glistens under the lights. She moans every time she watches Natasha's tongue flick her clit. They switch, Aften on her back now, legs over Natasha's shoulders. Natasha grinds down, riding her face, both of them locked on the mirror. They keep going, switching positions, touching, tasting, fucking, every new angle making them hotter until they come together, faces pressed close, still watching themselves in the glass.