A Good, Stern Talking-To

Jane slams the phone down and yells for her stepmom. London strolls in wearing a tiny top that barely holds her big tits. Jane cuts straight to it: customers keep whining about London flirting with their husbands and flashing skin on walks. London shrugs and claims she’s just friendly. Jane calls bullshit. Then she blurts out something she didn’t plan to say—she thinks London flirts with her, too, and she kind of likes it. Heat crackles between them. London’s eyes drop to Jane’s small tits, then back up. They close the gap, mouths hungry, hands greedy. London’s fingers slide under Jane’s waistband and find her already wet. Jane moans, palms London’s heavy breasts, and they tumble onto the couch. Legs tangle, tongues tease, and every slow stroke of fingers makes the other gasp louder. Clothes hit the floor. Nothing left to hide. They fuck like they’ve both wanted this for years—slow, filthy, and way past professional.