Part 1

On the outskirts of a large Midwestern city, a young girl is getting ready for school. She attends a private, Catholic school so her clothing options are strictly limited. This morning she dons the regulation grey pleated skirt, white blouse, green-and-blue-striped tie, and white knee socks. She steps into a pair of loafers and slips on the navy blazer with the school coat-of-arms on the left breast.

The only touch of individuality in the whole ensemble is the gold cross on a slender chain at her throat.

Before leaving her bedroom she stands in front of a full-length mirror and brushes her straight blonde hair. Everyone tells her she’s pretty but she doesn’t stop to admire herself. The mirror is only to make sure she’s presentable. She wears no make-up.

“Amy,” the girl’s mother says, “it’s raining. Take an umbrella.”

Amy rolls her eyes. Why does her mom still treat her like a child? But she grabs an umbrella from the stand by the front door.

“Goodbye sweetheart.” Amy’s mother kisses her lightly on the lips, which is vaguely disquieting. “Have a good day at school.”

“Bye mom,” Amy says as she heads out the door.

Later, Amy wishes she had hugged her mom and told her she loved her. But how could she have known then that she would never see her mother again? After all, it’s just another day in late September, and Amy is only going to her school a few miles away.

As she walks past the comfortable homes of her neighbors, Amy feels perfectly secure. The hedges, the trees, the carefully-maintained lawns are all so familiar that she doesn’t notice them, but they give Amy the sense that she is just as safe here as in her own bedroom.

Two blocks away, four men sit in an idling Chevy Suburban with tinted windows and stolen license plates. In the front passenger seat a man watches Amy through high-powered binoculars.

“There she is,” he says. “Right on time.” The driver waits for Amy to turn the corner before slipping the big car into gear.

Just as the men expected, Amy steps under cover of the bus shelter. This is critical to their plan because the little structure will hide their operation from any potential witnesses. They have been waiting for a rainy day for almost two weeks.

The driver eases the Suburban up to the curb directly in front of the bus stop. Amy has just shaken the rain from her umbrella when a car pulls up in front of her. A window opens and an African American man about thirty years old smiles at her. It’s unusual to see a black man in her neighborhood, but he’s wearing a coat and tie and thick-framed eyeglasses. His smile is disarming.

“Good morning,” he says. “I wonder if you can help me. I’m trying to find Valley View Business Park, and my phone isn’t getting a good signal.” His voice sounds educated, refined.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that is,” she says.

“Okay, listen,” the man says. “My directions say it’s on Glenwood Road. This is Glenwood Road, isn’t it?”

“This isn’t Glenwood Road,” Amy says. “Glenwood is two—no, three blocks that way.” She points in the direction of the park across the street. She can’t see them, but two men have exited the car on the driver’s side and are moving quietly around the back of the big vehicle.

“Oh, thank you,” says the man in the passenger seat. “You’ve been very helpful.” He smiles at Amy. She finds herself charmed by the man and smiles back.

Just then, two men step out from behind the back of the car. They’re wearing nondescript dark clothes, and ski masks cover their faces. Amy opens her mouth to scream but it’s too late. One of the men has a large, gloved hand over her mouth, and the other has pulled her arms behind her back. At the same moment, the man in the passenger seat jumps out and opens the rear door. The two men quickly drag Amy inside. They have practiced the abduction many times, and it goes off without a hitch. Within seconds the car is moving down the street.

No one has seen a thing.

Two minutes later, a school bus pulls up at the shelter. The bus driver looks up and down the street. He’s never known Amy to be late, and she rarely misses school. Guess she’s not feeling well, he says to himself as he drives on to the next stop.

In a somewhat less affluent neighborhood a few miles away, an eleven-year-old girl is snooping through her mother’s closet, the way kids will. Her fifteen-year-old sister is doing homework in their shared bedroom just down the hall. The younger sister is an habitual mischief-maker, and though her older sis loves her dearly, her patience is often tested.

Becca, the elder sister, notices that it’s been quiet for a while. “Emma?” she hollers.

“What?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” answers her sister. Becca knows from experience that this means that Emma is probably getting into something she shouldn’t. She follows her sister’s voice to their mother’s bedroom.

“Where are you?” Becca says.

“In here,” answers Emma’s voice from the closet. “Look what I found.”

Becca locates her little sister on the floor next to an open drawer. She’s holding a DVD case with a photo of two nude women on the cover.

“Oh my god!” says Becca. “Where did you find that? Put it back right now!”

“But ... is this what I think it is?” says Emma. “Is this a porno movie?”

“Yes, it’s a porno movie. Now put it back!”

“Okay, okay,” says Emma. “But look—there’s lots more.” She shows her sister an entire collection of porn videos at the back of their mother’s dresser drawer.

Becca stares in amazement. She would never have guessed that their mother, a prim and proper school teacher, would watch porno movies. She takes another look at the cover of the video Emma is holding. The title is “MILFs and Teens” and Becca notices that one of the women in the photo is probably in her forties and the other is much younger, no more than twenty.

The whole idea is freaking her out so much she can’t even process what she’s seeing. She snaps at her younger sister. “Put it back, I said! Exactly the way you found it!”

“Okay, grumpy,” says Emma. She places the video back in the drawer. “The sweaters were on top, like this.”

Becca leads her little sister back to their bedroom. Emma settles down to finish her homework and both girls are busy until their mom gets home. Becca hopes that Emma will simply forget about the stash in the dresser drawer.

But at dinner that night, she notices Emma staring at their mom. Becca has always thought her mother beautiful, and she still does. She and Emma have inherited their blue eyes, porcelain skin, and strawberry blonde hair from her.

Now, Becca can see that her little sister is looking at their mom with a new sort of curiosity. And she knows she is, too.

Becca tries not to think about her mom’s collection. But some things, once seen, are impossible to un-see. The same questions keep swirling around in her brain. Why does her mom watch porn movies? More specifically, why does her mom watch lesbian porn movies? She can hardly even ask herself the third nagging question—why would her mom watch movies that show sex between older women and teenagers? Everything her mother has ever told her, including the reason for her parents’ divorce, is now open to question.

After school the next day Becca goes straight to her mother’s closet. She carefully lifts the sweaters out of the way and begins to examine the videos one by one. All the movies include lesbian sex and many of them have an older/younger theme. They have titles like “Cougars Seduce Kittens” and “Mom Fucked the Babysitter.” And most shocking of all, “Loved by Mommy,” which purports to show mothers having sex with their teenaged daughters. Becca can’t believe they’re actually related, but the idea makes her squirm uncomfortably.

At one side she finds a whole series of videos that also include men, but before she can look at them her phone rings. When she sees that it’s her mom calling, Becca feels like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Uh, hi Mom.”

“Hi honey, I just wanted to remind you that I have parent conferences today so I’ll be home late. You need to take the casserole out of the fridge and put it in the oven for your dinner. Did you remember?”

“Okay ... um, no. I’ll go do it now.”

The rest of the conversation is a blur. The only part that registers is when her mom says she won’t be home until seven. That means Becca has an hour to herself before Emma gets home from soccer practice. She grabs a handful of videos and heads for the living room.

The first movie she picks is called “Mother-Daughter Exchange Club.” The title alone is enough to make her feel uncomfortable, but her curiosity is stronger. Becca pops it in the DVD player to watch on their 50 inch plasma TV. The movie proceeds like a soap opera, complete with bad acting. The story is about a secret society in which mothers trade their young daughters to other lesbian moms.

As Becca watches a woman about fifty years old kiss and caress a lovely young blonde, she feels more and more agitated. Her mom really watches this stuff? The girl’s clothes slowly come off and Becca stares wide-eyed at the TV, her heart pounding. That squirmy, uncomfortable feeling is stronger than ever, and it’s centered between her legs. When the older woman begins to lick the blonde’s shaved pussy, Becca gasps. “Oh god ... oh my god...” She turns up the volume so she can hear obscene sounds the woman is making.

Becca discovered masturbation a couple of years earlier, and she knows the amazing sensations that can come from that little bump at the top of her vulva. She can hardly imagine how good it would feel to have someone lick her there. Her hand seems to move by itself to her panties. She rubs her clit through the damp cotton and sighs with pleasure.

On the screen, the older woman has removed her bra and the blonde is kissing and sucking the woman’s huge breasts. Becca raises the hem of her skirt and looks down. The front of her panties is soaked. When the young blonde on TV goes down and begins to eat the older woman’s hairy cunt, Becca drops her panties to her ankles and begins to touch her clit directly. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...” she says. She’s not even aware that she’s speaking aloud.

Soccer practice cancelled, it’s only a few minutes later that Emma quietly enters through the front door. She’s always quiet when she gets home because Becca often naps after school. Emma closes the door and takes off her shoes. She’s about to head for her bedroom when she hears strange noises from the direction of the living room.

As she stands in the doorway, little Emma can hardly believe what she sees. On the TV, two middle-aged women are undressing a pretty brunette girl who looks no more than eighteen years old. On the sofa, her sister Becca is slouched with her panties around one ankle and her skirt rucked up around her waist. She is rubbing herself with one hand while spreading her vulva with the other. Emma watches spellbound, her eyes going back and forth between the TV and her sister.

Mixed emotions flood the eleven-year-old as she watches the two older women take turns licking the pussy of the teenager. For one thing, she’s angry at Becca’s apparent hypocrisy. But beyond her anger is the strange excitement she feels from the action on the screen, and even more so from watching her sister. Becca’s head is thrown back, her eyes half-closed, her lips parted. Little Emma has touched herself down there and she knows it feels good, but she’s never felt anything like what her sister seems to be feeling.

On the TV, one of the older women sits on the face of the young girl while the other goes down on her. “Oh fuck,” Becca says again. When the camera zooms in for a close-up of the teen’s face as the older woman rides her tongue from above, Becca cries out as if in pain. Emma watches as her sister’s lovely face is contorted as if she’s about to scream or cry. Becca’s feet rise from the floor, her legs quivering. She moans, “oh fuck ... oh yes ... oh fuck...”

Emma is not sure what just happened, but she is sure of one thing. She wants to experience what her big sister Becca has just experienced.

Alone in a basement room, Amy has been held captive for more than twenty-four hours. There’s a window high on one wall, but she can’t reach it. The walls are brick and the floor is rough concrete. There’s a toilet in one corner, completely exposed. Amy has pounded on the heavy wooden door until her fists ached. She has screamed herself hoarse but that didn’t get her anywhere, either. She gives in to despair and begins to cry again.

She has no way of knowing it, but Amy’s parents are at that moment on a local TV station begging for their daughter’s return. Her mother pleads to the camera, “Please, whoever you are, bring my little girl home. She’s just an innocent child. She doesn’t know anything about ... how awful some people can be—”

The poor woman can’t go on. She breaks down and sobs.

Amy also sobs uncontrollably, pitifully. Her thoughts go back to her arrival in this terrible room, and the humiliation she’d endured. Her gag and blindfold were removed. Two large black men the size of football players held her arms while two others looked on, grinning.

“Please let me go,” Amy had begged. “What do you want with me?”

“You gonna make us a shitload of money,” a man said. It was the man with the glasses who had spoken to Amy at the bus stop, but now his voice didn’t sound refined.

“You can’t get away with this,” Amy said. “The police will come—”

“Shut up,” the man said. “Let’s check out the goods.”

Amy screamed at the top of her voice, “Help! Somebody help me!”

The man who’d spoken stepped forward and pressed a small device against Amy’s ribs and squeezed a trigger. She instantly convulsed, every muscle in her slim body jerking violently. He removed the thing and Amy sagged between the two men.

The man raised her chin until her eyes were able to focus. “You’ve just been tased,” he said. “If you give us any trouble I’ll do it again, only this time it will be in a more sensitive part of your body. Do you understand?”

Amy started to cry. “Please,” she begged. “Let me go...”

The man held the stun gun in front of her face. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, “at least not until you’ve served our purposes. If you do everything we say we’ll take you home when we’re finished with you. Now, we’re going to undress you and give you some other clothes to wear. If you don’t do exactly as I say, I’ll give you more of this,” he said, brandishing the stun gun.

“Okay,” Amy said. “I’ll do whatever you want.” The pretty ninth-grader was absolutely certain that she was about to be raped. But maybe if she did as they asked they wouldn’t kill her.

“Good,” said the man. He gave Amy one of his winning smiles. “That’s what we like, co-operation.”

He put the stun gun in his pocket and began to unbutton Amy’s white blouse. Tears of shame ran down the youngster’s face. Just when she thought this couldn’t be any more humiliating, Amy noticed there was another person in the room, a woman. Like the men, the woman was black. She was about the age of Amy’s mother. The woman was taking photos as the men stripped her.

“Please,” Amy said to the woman, her voiced breaking. “Help me.”

“Hush, child,” the woman said. “You just do like you’re told and I won’t let these bad boys hurt you.”

As the two football player types held her arms, the man in glasses unfastened her skirt and let it drop to the floor. Amy stood trembling in her white bra and yellow bikini panties. She was still wearing her knee socks and loafers.

At age fourteen, Amy’s body had only recently begun to ripen. Her legs were long and thin, her waist was tiny and her shoulders looked fragile. She weighed only 90 pounds. But her breasts had sprouted in the last few months and filled out a B cup. Her ass jutted out, high and round, though her hips were still narrow.

“Fuck yeah,” said the man undressing her. He was examining her body the way a rancher might examine a head of livestock.

“The man gonna like this one,” said one of the other men.

“Fuckin’ right,” said the first man. “Look at her skin. That what they call ‘peaches and cream.’ Not a mark on her. Not a mole, not a scar, nothin’.”

Amy felt someone unfasten her bra and she began to sob. She was very self-conscious about her newly-formed breasts, and she tried to cover them with her hands, but the two powerful men at her sides held her arms fast. All four men commented on her fourteen-year-old tits in the crudest possible terms.

“Fuck, those look tasty.” “Like vanilla ice cream.” “Yeah, Ima shoot my cream all over ‘em.”

“You ain’t gonna touch her,” the woman said as she snapped photo after photo. “Hurry up and get her undressed.”

“With pleasure,” said the man who’d tased her.

“Now little girl,” he said to Amy. “Don’t you forget what I told you. If you try to kick me or some shit like that, I’m gonna hold this motherfucker against your sweet little titties until you black out.” He stroked the smooth skin of her breast with the stun gun.

Amy nodded, too terrified to speak. The man knelt at her feet and hooked two fingers in the waistband of her panties. He looked back at the woman with the camera. “Make sure you get some good shots,” he said, moving to one side to give her a clear sight line. He slowly eased the cotton knickers down over Amy’s slender hips as the other men whistled their approval.

“Look at that fuckin’ ass!” one said.

“She a natural blonde, all right,” said another. Amy’s light, downy pubic hair did little to hide her pussy lips. The men’s eyes drank in every detail.

No one had seen Amy completely naked since she reached puberty, not even her mother. She couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating. But it was about to get worse.

“The moment of truth has arrived,” said the man with the stun gun. “I’ll take the camera, Taneesha,” he said to the woman, “if you’ll do the honors.”

The woman handed him the camera and knelt at Amy’s feet. “Now honey,” she said, “we need to make sure you a virgin. Spread your legs apart for me.”

Amy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Yes, I’m a virgin!” she said. “You don’t need to check!”

“‘Course you is, honey,” said Taneesha. “But we still need to check. You might a lost it, you know, accidental-like. Or with your hairbrush.” All the men laughed.

This has to be a nightmare, Amy thought. This can’t really be happening to me. Just an hour earlier she was on her way to school like any other day, and now she’s standing naked in front of five black hoodlums who want to know if she’s a virgin.

She spread her legs apart as tears rolled down her smooth cheeks. The woman wet a finger in her mouth and began to work it between Amy’s puffy, almost hairless pussy lips. The young blonde squirmed in discomfort, her face red with shame. The finger probed her insides for what seemed forever. Amy looked down and saw that the woman was shining a small flashlight at her private parts and peering up inside her.

Finally, she snapped off the light and withdrew her finger.

She grinned at the men. “Little girl cherry, all right.”

Becca and Emma sit on the couch together as another porn movie begins to play on the TV. It has taken Becca some time to recover from the embarrassment of being caught by her little sister, but that’s all forgotten now. As the teen stares glassy-eyed at the screen, the familiar tug of desire has begun to build again between her legs. She’s amazed that she’s getting aroused again so soon after her orgasm, but watching girls have sex has an effect on her like nothing she’s ever felt before.

When she burst into the room less than half an hour earlier, Emma decided to play up her anger. “You’re such a hypocrite!” she told her sister. “You yelled at me for finding the movies, but now you’re the one watching them and ... and doing nasty stuff right here on the couch!” She had then threatened to tell their mother, throwing Becca into a panic. Becca had agreed to let her little sis watch with her, which was Emma’s goal all along.

Now, Becca sits primly on the couch with her legs together, panties restored to their assigned place. Her hands rest on her knees. She can’t imagine playing with herself in front of Emma, but after watching for only a few minutes there’s nothing she wants more. Like an itch that needs to be scratched, her pussy is begging to be touched. Both girls watch silently for another few minutes as two teenagers cavort on the screen in front of them.

“Becs,” says Emma without taking her eyes off the TV, “can I ask you something?”

“Um ... sure, I guess.”

“When I first got here you were all, like, moaning and shaking, and your face looked like you were in pain or something.”

“Well, yeah...” Becca lets out a small gasp as one of the girls onscreen goes down on the other.

“What was that all about? Did you cum? Is that what cumming is?”

Becca hesitates for a moment. This is her eleven-year-old sister asking about sex!

“Yeah, I did,” she says. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Oh my god, yes. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

Neither of them speaks for a while as they watch the girls on the TV maneuver into a sixty-nine. The sisters stare at the screen, mesmerized. Becca feels an almost overwhelming need to touch her clit. Her knuckles are turning white she’s grasping her knees so tightly. God that’s hot, Becca thinks as she watches the porn starlets lick each other. She wonders if Emma is thinking the same thing.

A few minutes later, Becca senses movement from the corner of her eye. Little Emma has sneaked a hand up the leg of her soccer shorts, and is rubbing her pussy!

“Em,” she says.

“What?” says Emma. Her hand stops moving.

“I can see you. Touching yourself.”

“Oh, Becs,” says Emma, “this movie is making me feel all dirty or something. I want to have an orgasm like you were having when I came in. Can you show me how?”

Becca is gobsmacked. “You’re only eleven and—”

“I know how old I am,” Emma says earnestly, “but I know what masturbating is, and I wanna learn how. It feels good when I touch my kitty, but I don’t think I’m doing it right.”

Becca can’t believe she’s having this conversation. But as she watches the girls onscreen, her pussy is pleading for attention. Every fiber of her being longs to satisfy that impulse, and she realizes that Emma’s request has given her an opportunity. Would it be so wrong to show her little sister how to masturbate? She’s going to learn eventually, anyway. On TV one of the girls is lapping at the other’s very wet cunt.

“Okay, Em,” she says. “Take off your shorts.”

Emma grins at her and quickly strips off her soccer shorts.

“Underwear too,” says Becca as she removes her own skirt.

Becca is surprised to find that she’s actually excited to check out Emma’s preteen pussy. Of course she’s seen it before when the girls were dressing or bathing, but she’s never really paid attention. Emma slides her panties down as Becca quickly removes her own sodden undies.

“Okay,” says Becca nervously. “Uh, spread your legs apart.” Both girls open their legs until Becca’s right knee touches Emma’s left. Becca stares at her sister’s girlish sex. Emma’s mound is plump and smooth. Her inner lips are completely hidden by the fat outer lips.

Becca’s hand trembles as she reaches at last for her own needy cunt. “First,” she says, “run a finger or two up and down your slit.” She can barely suppress a moan as her finger squelches through her slippery slot.

“Like this?” says Emma as she drags a fingertip up and down her crease.

“You need to pull your, um, lips open to get to the good stuff.”

“Okay,” Emma says. With the fingertips of both hands Emma pulls apart her plump lips, and both girls watch in fascination as strands of sticky girl goo stretch between them. Together, they examine her small, immature inner labia and clitoral hood.

“Wow, you’re really wet,” says Becca.

“Oh my god! Is that bad?”

Becca laughs. “No, it just means you’re turned on. Ah, sexually aroused.”

“Okay,” Emma says. “What do I do now?”

Becca still can’t get over the feeling of unreality, but she presses on. “Take one finger,” she says, “and wiggle it around down at the bottom of your kitty where it’s really wet.”

“Mmmmm...”

Becca is no longer watching the girls on the TV. Her attention is totally focused on her little sister’s juicy split peach. “Now rub it on that bumpy part at the top.”

“Oh god...” says Emma.

“Feels good, right?” says Becca. She is slowly strumming her own throbbing clit. “Keep it nice and wet. If it starts to get dry, use some spit or the juice from your kitty.” Emma dips her finger into the pool of creamy goodness at the base of her cunt and rubs it in circles on her tiny clitoral hood. Her little girl voice squeaks with pleasure.

“That’s right,” says Becca.

“Now what?” says Emma. “Should I, uh, just keep doing that?”

“Pretty much,” says Becca. “But I still haven’t shown you the best part. Do you know where your clit is?”

“I’ve heard of it,” says the sixth-grader. “But I don’t really know what it is.”

“Okay, I’m going to show you mine. It’s kind of hard to see. You have to pull apart the top of your kitty like this.” Becca uses the first two fingers of each hand to spread open her pussy lips, causing her clitoral hood to pop out. She touches it with a finger.

“This little thing is called the hood,” she says. She’s beginning to sound like her sex ed teacher from school.

“Your clit is under there. It’s really sensitive.” Using two fingertips, Becca presses down on the hood, exposing her clit. She caresses it with a wet finger. “Uhhhhh, yeah,” she groans.

“Where is it?” says Emma. “I can’t see it.”

“I told you, it’s really small,” says Becca.

“Come closer.”

Emma slips off the sofa and on to the floor. She kneels between her sister’s legs, her face less than a foot from Becca’s glistening pink folds. She’s hit by the scent of her big sister’s arousal, and the aroma makes her own pussy seem to throb.

“Right here,” says Becca, drawing back her clitoral hood. “It kind of looks like a little pink jelly bean.”

“Oh, I see it!” says Emma. “It looks like it’s trying to hide.”

“Yeah, it’s usually hidden,” says Becca. “But I’m making it pop out.” She wets a fingertip in her mouth and gently rubs her clit. “Oh god, yes,” the teen hisses.

“Wow,” says Emma. “Can I touch it?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.” Becca can’t quite believe that her baby sister has asked to touch her clit, but suddenly her arousal ratchets up several notches. Just as her sister did, Emma wets a fingertip in her mouth before gently touching Becca’s exposed clit. She runs her finger in a circular motion around it. “Oh! Oh my goodness,” Becca sighs. Somehow, having her little sister rub her clit is way more exciting than doing it herself. She’s still holding her pussy lips open.

“Just like that. Yeah, keep doing that.” Becca’s hips slowly begin to rock. “Mmmmm, that’s good. Keep it nice and wet.”

Emma pauses to wet her finger. Becca moans when she starts rubbing again. Her hips begin to move faster. Emma switches hands so she can taste her finger. She thinks her sister’s pussy juice is yummy. It’s somehow sweet and tangy at the same time. She wants more, and she has a pretty good idea where to get some.

She pokes a finger into the entrance of Becca’s fuckhole.

“Oh my god, Emma! What are you...”

Her heart pounding with excitement, Emma slides her finger inside Becca’s pussy. It’s smooth and slippery inside, and she loves the way it seems to grip her finger.

“Uhgn, yeah ... that feels good,” Becca says. It takes Emma a moment or two to coordinate her movements, but soon she is fucking her sister’s cunt with one finger while rubbing her clit with another.

Becca can hardly believe it, but she’s pretty sure that her little sister Emma is going to make her cum. “Yes, fuck me with your finger! Don’t stop!”

Becca’s head is thrown back, her eyes closed. Rubbing her sister’s clit is totally awesome, but Emma wants to be like the big girls in the video. She already knows she likes the taste. Emma slowly leans forward and takes her finger away.

Becca instantly knows something is different. Her eyes pop open and—holy fucking shit! Little Emma is licking her clit!

“Oh my god, Emma!” she says. “You’re a bad girl ... I don’t ... oh, wow ... oh my gosh ... wow, that feels really good ... yeah, lick me. Just like that ... keep licking me just like that ... I’m gonna cum! Oh ... oh ... Ohhhh!” As Becca thrashes on the couch, Emma wraps her lips around her sister’s clit and hood while still fucking her hole with a finger.

Becca’s hips are thrusting violently, her pussy mashed into Emma’s pretty face. Filthy words spew from the fifteen-year-old’s mouth. Emma is thrilled to make her big sister cum so hard. Watching girls get each other off in a movie is exciting, but to do it in real life is amazing! At last Becca’s ass sinks back to the couch, her legs still twitching. “Okay, stop. No more,” she says, pushing Emma’s head away.