Two Big Reasons To Watch

Posh Murka VR stood in the doorway of her stepdad’s room in a white top and a short brown mini-skirt, turning just enough for the fabric to catch the light. She said she couldn’t decide whether the outfit was right for college or for a date, and asked what he thought. The question sounded light. The air between them did not. His gaze lingered too long, his breath changed, and the tension in his body was impossible to miss. Murka felt that look settle on her skin and, instead of stepping back, she let it pull her further in. She sat on the bed and slowly cupped her huge *** through the thin top, squeezing them as if testing the weight, watching his face the whole time. Then she drew the neckline down and let them spill free. One ***, then the other, met her tongue. She licked slowly, unhurried, a soft sound escaping her as if the taste and his attention were part of the same thing. The top slipped off her shoulders. The mini-skirt followed. In only her *** she looked even more deliberate, running her fingers down her own body. The *** were already ***. She pushed them aside and stroked her smooth shaved *** with the same unhurried care, the quiet of the house making every small *** sound feel closer than it should. Lying back against the pillows, she spread her legs and gave in completely. Two fingers slid inside her while her other hand stayed on her spit-slick ***, squeezing, teasing, lifting. Soft, needy moans filled the room as her hips rolled to meet her hand. The knowledge of who was watching and how badly he wanted her made every *** sharper. She rubbed her *** faster, breath breaking, thighs trembling, until a long shaky cry left her and she came *** the sheets, fingers still buried in her pulsing ***. Afterward she stayed there, chest rising and falling, cheeks flushed, a small knowing smile on her lips. College or a date no longer seemed like the question that needed answering.