Let It Snow - Cover

Let It Snow

Copyright© 2018 by erotic scribbler

Chapter 3

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - The story explores identity, sexuality, and female empowerment at an Anime Convention where an unexpected snowstorm serves as a catalyst for two mothers with their daughters to grow closer together, allowing them to confront their pasts, embrace their desires, and forge a new future. From the best-selling author of Potential (400,000 words/5 Books) and Attic Voyeur: The Incest Next Door (135,000 words).

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   Fiction   Masturbation   Oral Sex  

After more than an hour of conversation in the restaurant, Cindy knew Mandy wasn’t Mexican. Her mother was from Puerto Rico, and her father was from the Bronx. Mandy had lived in Harlem until she was ten, then they moved to The Gardens, a Latino neighborhood in Los Angeles. It was more the hood than a neighborhood and where Mandy had met Alberto, her husband.

Candy leaned forward and lowered her voice, “But you were only fifteen.” A year younger than Sierra, she thought.

Mandy shrugged. “Things are different in the hood. Don’t get me wrong, my mother warned me about men like him, but you know how it is with bad boys. They’re hard to resist. He had the coolest car, a muscle car. All red with black stripes and Chevy 454 emblems on the hood scoop ... Ah, so sweet. Man, the way that Chevelle rumbled, I think I creamed my pants once while we were racing his cousin, Dario.”

The truth was, Cindy didn’t know how it was with bad boys or the hood. She met her husband, Dick, in church. They waited until their wedding night before having sex, or at least she had. Richard had been her only dick. She thought they would live happily ever after in their fancy Pacific Heights home. They went to church, he worked, and she stayed home and cared for the house and Sierra.

When Cindy found the sexting messages on Dick’s phone, she could tell from his expression when she asked, “Was she the only one or were there others in between?” that there had been others. How the fuck could he have an affair with someone in church? He was the praise and worship leader, and he was screwing Betty, the lead vocalist, a woman more than ten years younger than Cindy.

“What happened with you and Alberto?” Cindy asked. “Why aren’t you together anymore?”

“He’s dead,” Mandy said and sipped her margarita.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, wishing she hadn’t asked. “What happened?”

“Switchblade,” Mandy said. “He got stabbed with his own knife.”

“God, that’s horrible. It must have been so hard on you and Tori.”

“On her more than me.” Mandy downed two-thirds of her drink. “But I think she was starting to hate him, too, by then. He got mean. Selling and using drugs will do that to a man, or maybe he was always that way. I don’t know anymore.”

Cindy wanted to know more, but Mandy stopped talking, so Cindy let it go, for now. She was impressed with this young lady and how she was raising Tori on her own. Cindy was still trying to get Dick back because she was afraid to be alone.

 
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