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Busty ebony milf Misty MBA (Misty Marie Brooks-Laine) stopped mid-step, her arm frozen in mid-air, the front door key suspended between her fingers. Droplets of pee trickled down her inner thigh,tshort shorts clinging to her curvy hips as she listened.
A muffled moan drifted from Zoe’s bedroom, followed by creaking bed springs and the rhythmic, unmistakable thumping of headboard against wall. Misty grinned,key still dangling as she recognized her step-daughter’s high-pitched squeals and her boyfriend appliance repairman’s grunts.
“Randy’s working overtime, ain’t he?” Misty chuckled to herself, hips swaying as she locked the front door. Pulling her shorts down, she tore off a strip and carefully dabbed between her legs before tossing them in the hamper. “Damn, got myself drippin’ wet again.”
Misty sashayed to the kitchen, pouring a tall glass of lemonade. She tipped her head back and swallowed slowly, her sheer red tank top leaving little to the imagination as it clung to her generous cleavage. Setting the glass down, Misty traced a perfectly manicured finger around her lips, strawberry nipples pressing against the thin, damp fabric. She smirked and reached for a cucumber from the fridge…
“He’s gonna fuckin’ DROWN if he don’t slow his ass down,” Misty purred, sucking on the cold veggie. “Zoe always was a squirter.”
She sauntered down the hall, stopping at Zoe’s slightly ajar door. Leaning a lush hip against the frame, Misty watched unabashed as tanned, toned bodies writhed together – her baby girl pale legs locked around her hunky honey, electric hair flying.
“Ohhh FUCK-Chrisyes-RIGHT there!” Zoe wailed, head thrown back as her body spasmed.
“Gonna cum – fuckin’ floods deserve th’ work,” Randy gasped, pumping frantically as watery arousal gushed over his pelvis.
“Oh god Zo!” Misty squeaked loudly, flinging open the door. “This ain’t no slip ‘n slide, bitch!”
“MOM!” Zoe yelped, clawing at the tangled sheets as she rolled to cover herself. “WHAT THE FUCK?! GET OUT!”
Red-faced, Misty planted hands on curvy hips, head cocked. Her gaze flicked over Randy’s naked, athletic form splayed out beside her daughter like a He-Man floor mat.
“Don’t mind me, sugar. Mommy just needed to grab some lube,” she sing-songed, eyes twinkling as she extracted a tube of Astroglide from a drawer. “You’ll learn sooner or later, honey – take what you can get. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with havin’ a thick piece a’ snake in ya.”
“UGH GROSS. OUT!” Zoe threw a pillow at her.
Misty deftly caught it, hugging to her bosom. “Okay – but y’all better wash off when you’re done. I ain’t airing this stain out or I swear to god…”
She flung the pillow back, catching Randy between the legs with a THWACK!
“AH FUCK!” He yelped, clutching himself.
“I’m SORRY random guy!” Misty trilled, closing the door on Zoe’s horrified screech. She paused, listening to Zoe’s whine, the creaking bed, a wet slap, a strangled moan… howling laughter?
“How bout some cocktails?” Misty called cheerfully, making her way to the kitchen again. “It’s almost happy hour!”
From within, Zoe’s muffled shriek was alarmingly drowned out by Randy’s strangled groans. Misty froze, ears perked. Just as she reached for the screen door, it burst open and a splashing, spluttering Randy tumbled out – eyes bulging, pallid skin drenched in various bodily fluids. He collapsed to the azaleas, hacking and coughing.
“You – OK-AY?” Misty asked, hand clutched to her heaving chest. Then she dissolved into peals of laughter, high-fiving Zoe as she emerged glistening and flushed.
“Sorry Chris,” Zoe drawled, hands on naked hips, turning to her equally drenched Macho Man, “but ya know what mom always says: ‘When in doubt – freak out!'”
