A Reflection Of Beauty

Melody's slumping on the bed, fresh off another breakup, telling anyone who'll listen she’s basically undateable. Dee, her stepmom, isn’t buying it. She drags the girl over to the big standing mirror and makes her look—really look. “Look at these tits,” Dee says, cupping them from behind, thumbs rolling across Melody’s stiff nipples through her thin top. “These nipples pop like they know they’re hot shit.” Melody blushes but can’t stop staring. Dee keeps going, peeling the shirt up, freeing her breasts so they bounce softly into view. “You see how heavy and perfect they sit? Anybody who’d dump this is a goddamn idiot.” Melody’s breath hitches. Dee presses closer, lips brushing Melody’s ear. “And fuck, this ass,” she murmurs, sliding both hands down the back of Melody’s shorts and squeezing hard. She tugs the fabric lower until Melody’s cheeks spill out, round and smooth. “I’d eat this all night.” The compliments turn breathy, filthy. Dee’s own arousal is obvious now—the hard press of her tits against Melody’s back, the slow grind of her hips. Melody’s eyes meet Dee’s in the reflection and suddenly Dee is confessing: “I want you. Been wanting you. Goddamn, baby girl, you’re too hot to waste on boys.” They don’t leave the mirror. Dee drops to her knees, spreads Melody’s stance, and buries her face between those cheeks, tongue dragging slow and wet from pussy to ass. Melody gasps, palms flat on the glass. She watches herself get licked, watches her own mouth fall open, nipples tight, thighs starting to shake. Dee moans like she’s the one being spoiled—wet sounds loud in the quiet room. Melody’s fingers slip down to her own clit, rubbing in quick circles while Dee tongue-fucks her from behind. It’s sloppy, hungry. When Dee stands again she yanks her own bra off and presses her full, soft tits to Melody’s back, rolling her nipples against Melody’s spine. One hand sneaks around to strum Melody’s clit while the other cups and squeezes her throat—not hard, just enough to make Melody’s pulse jump. They watch every reaction together: the flush climbing Melody’s chest, the way her stomach jumps, the glisten of spit and slick on her inner thighs. Dee spins her around, sits on the little bench at the mirror’s base, and pulls Melody onto her lap facing forward so they can both keep watching. Melody sinks down onto Dee’s thick strap, inch by inch, until her ass meets Dee’s thighs. They fuck like that—slow at first, Dee’s hands cupping Melody’s breasts from behind, twisting the nipples just the way she likes. Melody rides, rolling her hips in deep, lazy circles, mouth open on every exhale. The mirror shows everything: Melody’s cunt stretched around the toy, her juices shining on Dee’s strap, the slap of skin when Dee bucks up harder. Dee leans forward, sucking a bruise onto Melody’s neck while her fingers work Melody’s clit again. “Come on, pretty girl. Let me see you come all over mommy’s cock.” Melody’s whole body tightens; she shakes, legs kicking, pussy pulsing around the toy. Dee keeps her there, keeps stroking, drawing it out until Melody’s whimpering, too sensitive, still twitching. They stay locked together a minute, both breathing hard, sweat cooling. Dee kisses the back of Melody’s shoulder, voice low and satisfied. “Told you. Fucking gorgeous.”