The Runaway: Part One

Jessa couldn't take another round of her old man tearing her down, so she grabbed whatever fit in her arms and split. Starving after days with no food, she was digging through Cherie's garbage when Cherie heard the noise and marched outside in nothing but sunscreen and attitude. "The fuck you doing in my yard?" Jessa froze with an old sandwich halfway to her mouth and spilled her story—runaway, no home, nothing left to eat. Cherie looked her up and down, took in the fresh face and tight little body, and smiled like she'd just found what she'd been hunting for. "You're way too cute to be trash-diving. Here's the deal. You come inside, stay here, play house with me. But there's one rule: I'm Mommy, you got it?" Inside they barely make it to the couch before they're on each other, tongues deep, Jessa still sweaty from the street. Cherie peels off the filthy clothes piece by piece, squeezes Jessa's perky little tits and promises luxury she can barely picture. Jessa lies back, legs wide, and Cherie buries her face between them, tongue working over swollen lips, sucking the clit like she owns it. Jessa cums so hard she screams, then Cherie turns around and makes her repay the favor. Jessa yanks off Cherie's sandals, sucks each painted toe, then plunges three fingers straight into her soaked pussy and fucks her until Mommy's whole body shakes and she creams all over her new daughter's hand. To be continued.