You weren’t supposed to see this — the way she cradles that fake tit between her hands before shoving it past those full lips. Pink straps dig into her shoulders as she tilts her head back, letting the younger one take it deeper than any real mouth could manage. No gagging, just slow sucks while fingers trace the underside of those heavy bags. The bedroom door is cracked open enough for you to catch every shift of light on their skin — how the older one’s breath hitches when teeth graze too hard at first. Then she pushes, forcing more inside until cheeks hollow out around that rubber nipple. A hand slips up under her top next; not touching herself but guiding, adjusting.
