During a private open-house walkthrough, $name1 lets the divorced realtor MILF strip her on the staging bed, finger her dripping cunt, and tongue-fuck her until she cums screaming into Diane’s mouth.
$name1 stepped into the empty flat with her pulse already loud in her throat. Twenty-five. Looking for a one-bed she could barely afford. The listing photos had been sterile. The woman holding the keys was not.
Diane was forty-three. Divorced. Dark hair pulled into a low knot. A fitted cream blouse that strained over heavy tits and a pencil skirt that hugged a thick arse built from years of walking properties and raising kids who were now at university. A gold wedding band sat on a chain between her cleavage like a trophy she had won by leaving.
“Just us,” Diane said, shutting the front door. The latch clicked. Soft. Final. “No other viewings until three. Take your time, $name1.”
$name1 walked the open-plan lounge. Staging sofa. Fake plant. Big windows onto a quiet street. Diane followed close enough that $name1 could smell her perfume — something warm and expensive — and the faintest hint of sweat under it.
“Bedroom’s through here,” Diane said. Her voice had dropped. “Master. En suite. Built-in wardrobe. And a bed they staged with fresh sheets this morning.”
The bedroom was bright. White duvet. Pillows stacked. Diane closed that door too. Turned. Looked at $name1 the way a woman looks at a meal she has already decided to eat.
“You’re staring at my mouth,” $name1 said.
“I am.” Diane stepped in. One hand found $name1’s hip through her jeans. The other brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve been biting your lip since the kitchen. Nervous about the rent, or wet because a married-looking mum is alone with you in an empty flat?”
Heat slammed through $name1’s face. “Fuck. You can’t say that.”
“I can. I just did.” Diane’s thumb stroked the seam of $name1’s jeans near her cunt. “I left my husband eight months ago. My daughters are grown. And you walked in here smelling like need. Tell me to stop and I will. Or tell me to lock it properly.”
$name1’s mouth was dry. Her cunt was not. “Lock it.”
Diane crossed to the door, twisted the key in the bedroom lock, and came back. She kissed $name1 hard — lipstick and tongue, no warm-up — and shoved her back onto the staging bed. The duvet sighed under them. Diane straddled her thighs, heavy and warm, and yanked $name1’s jumper up over her head.
“Christ. Look at these.” Diane popped the front clasp of $name1’s bra and filled both hands with her tits. She pinched the nipples until $name1 gasped, then bent and sucked one into her mouth, teeth grazing, tongue wet and filthy. $name1 arched. Diane switched sides. Bit softly. Sucked harder.
“Diane —”
“Quiet enough the neighbours don’t call the office.” Diane sat up, peeled her own blouse off, unhooked a black lace bra, and let her heavy tits spill free. Soft. Full. Nipples dark and hard. $name1 reached up and grabbed them like she had been starving. Diane moaned — a low, broken sound — and pushed $name1’s hands firmer.
“Suck them,” Diane ordered.
$name1 sat up and took a nipple into her mouth. Licked. Sucked. Diane’s hand fisted in her hair and held her there while she rocked against $name1’s thigh. When Diane finally pulled her off, her lipstick was smeared and her eyes were dark.
She shoved $name1 flat again, dragged the jeans and knickers down in one rough pull, and tossed them. $name1’s cunt was shaved smooth and already shiny. Diane stared. Licked her lips.
“Fucking soaked. For a realtor. For a mum.” She pushed $name1’s knees apart and ran two fingers through the slit. $name1 shuddered. Slick. Open. Diane pushed both fingers into her cunt without warning and fucked her with them, curling, wet sounds filthy in the quiet bedroom.
“$name1,” Diane muttered. “Listen to that cunt.”
“Oh God — Diane — deeper —”
Diane added a third finger. Stretched her. Thumb found her clit and rubbed in tight circles while her fingers pumped. $name1’s hips jerked. Her tits bounced. She grabbed the duvet and moaned into her own wrist.
“Don’t you dare stay quiet now,” Diane said. She pulled her fingers free — shiny, dripping — and held them to $name1’s mouth. “$name1. Taste yourself.”
$name1 sucked them clean. Filthy. Eager. Diane’s breath hitched.
Then Diane slid down the bed, shoved $name1’s thighs over her shoulders, and buried her face in her cunt.
The first long lick split $name1 open from hole to clit. Diane’s tongue was thick and greedy. She sealed her mouth over the clit and sucked hard, then fucked her tongue into $name1’s hole, then sucked again. No soft teasing. A divorced MILF eating like she had been denied for years.
“$name1 — fuck — Diane — your tongue —”
Diane moaned into her cunt. The vibration made $name1’s thighs shake. Diane’s hands clamped her hips down so she could not squirm away. She licked deeper. Sucked louder. Slurped. When she pushed two fingers back into $name1’s cunt and curled them against the front wall while her tongue hammered the clit, $name1 broke.
She came hard — cunt clenching, thighs locking around Diane’s head, a raw cry ripped out of her throat. Diane did not stop. She licked her through it, drank the mess, fucked her with her fingers until $name1 was twitching and sobbing for air.
“Good girl,” Diane rasped, chin shiny, lipstick ruined. “Now you do me.”
She stood, shoved the pencil skirt and knickers down, and climbed onto the bed on her knees facing the headboard. Her cunt was trimmed dark and dripping down her inner thighs. Thick arse. Soft belly. A body that had carried children and still looked like sin.
“$name1. Behind me. Mouth on my cunt. Now.”
$name1 scrambled up. Grabbed Diane’s hips. Spread those cheeks and buried her face between them. She licked from clit to hole in long filthy strokes, then focused on the clit, sucking it the way Diane had sucked hers. Diane cursed into the pillows. Rocked back onto $name1’s mouth.
“Fingers,” Diane gasped. “In my cunt. Hard.”
$name1 pushed three fingers into Diane’s soaked hole and fucked her while she sucked. Wet slap of knuckles. Diane’s heavy tits swung. The staging bed creaked. Diane reached back, grabbed a fistful of $name1’s hair, and pulled her tighter against her cunt.
“That’s it — tongue that clit — fuck your mum’s hole — ah fuck —”
$name1 moaned into her. Ate harder. Curled her fingers. Diane’s thighs shook. When $name1 sucked her clit and pumped deep, Diane came with a broken shout, cunt pulsing around $name1’s fingers, juices flooding her chin and palm.
They collapsed sideways onto the white duvet. Sweat. Smeared lipstick. The smell of sex thick in the staged bedroom.
Diane laughed once, breathless, and kissed $name1’s mouth so they could taste each other — cunt and spit and ruined makeup.
“Lease paperwork,” Diane said against her lips, “is going to take another hour. Maybe two. There’s an en suite shower. And I brought a spare set of keys.”
$name1 grinned, still panting, cunt still twitching. “Show me the shower, Diane. Then fuck me again against the tiles.”
Diane’s eyes darkened. “Get up, $name1. And leave the knickers off.”
