*Longwood Villa*

The front door was unlocked, as always. Longwood Villa had never been the sort of household that worried much about security. Her sire mother Demetria could crush most threats with her bare hands, and the neighborhood guards knew better than to trouble a senator's residence.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" Cassia called out, stepping into the central courtyard. The olive tree rustled in the breeze. "It’s your loving daughter Cassia. Remember her?”

No answer.

Frowning slightly, Cassia set down her satchel and moved through the familiar rooms. Demetria’s study was empty, her scrolls still spread across the reading table where she'd left them. Her mothers’ bedchambers, too, were deserted, though a fire still crackled in the hearth, suggesting recent occupation.

That left the kitchen.

Cassia smiled to herself, remembering how her womb mother Lara would spend hours preparing elaborate meals whenever Cassia was due home from anywhere. She could already imagine the spread, honeyed figs, fresh bread, perhaps that spiced wine Lara knew she loved.

She rounded the corner, a greeting forming on her lips, and froze.

The kitchen was indeed occupied.

Her mothers had apparently decided, since Cassia's departure, that the entire villa constituted their personal bedchamber. The evidence of this declaration was spread across the large wooden table that had once hosted family dinners and political strategy sessions.

Lara lay sprawled across its surface, her modest brown hair unpinned and fanning across the worn wood, her generous body bare and glistening with what Cassia's shocked mind identified as a combination of sweat and other, more... intimate fluids. Her legs were parted, knees drawn up, revealing the lush pink folds of her prominently exposed beta pussy.

And standing between those spread legs, gripping Lara's curved hips with enough **** to whiten her knuckles, was Demetria.

Cassia's sire mother had shed her senatorial toga entirely, her Amazonian figure cutting an imposing figure in the kitchen's light. Her sharp features were softened by concentration, her resolute expression melted into something raw and hungry. The ten-inch alpha cock between her legs gleamed wetly, buried to the hilt inside Lara's welcoming cunt.

"Heavens, Lara," Demetria growled, her voice stripped of its usual senatorial control, reduced to something primal and possessive. "You're especially tight today. Have you been doing those exercises again?"

"Every day," Lara gasped, her kind brown eyes half-closed, her generous breasts bouncing with each thrust. "I’ve got more time now that Cassia is out of the house."

"I’ll have to thank our daughter then when we see her later." Demetria pulled back slowly, agonizingly, until only the head of her cock remained inside, then slammed forward with a **** that made the table legs scrape against the stone floor. "I haven’t felt a cunt this tight since Cassia’s primacy day."

Lara's response was a shattered moan that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her chest. Her hands scrambled across the table's surface, finding nothing to grip, finally settling on her own breasts, kneading the soft flesh with **** urgency.

Cassia stood in the doorway, her olive skin flushing dark with embarrassment, her brown eyes wide and unblinking. She should leave. She should leave. Any polite, well-raised daughter would retreat silently and pretend she'd seen nothing, perhaps wait in the courtyard until summoned.

Her feet refused to move.

Some traitorous part of her, the latent beta side she fought so hard to control, perhaps, or simply the curious young futa she'd become, kept her rooted to the spot. She watched as her sire mother fucked her womb mother with the same focused intensity she brought to Senate floor debates, each thrust precise and purposeful.

"Demetria," Lara whimpered. "Please, my love. I'm so close."

"Then come." Demetria's command was absolute, brooking no argument. "Come on my cock like the naughty little temptress you are."

Lara screamed.

It wasn't a polite, restrained sound. It was raw and wanton and utterly abandoned, the kind of noise that would have scandalized the neighbors if any had been close enough to hear. Her body arched off the table, her pussy clamping down around Demetria's length with visible spasms, her tiny cock twitching and leaking a thin stream of fluid across her stomach.

Demetria rode out the storm with visible effort, her jaw clenched, her muscular thighs trembling. But she didn't come. She held back with the stoic discipline that characterized everything she did, waiting until Lara's cries subsided into panting whimpers before she began to move again.

"Are you done?" Demetria said, amused. "I'm not finished with you yet, wife."

Lara laughed, breathless and happy. "You never are."

Cassia's throat constricted. She'd known, intellectually, that her mothers had an active sex life. The occasional sounds through closed doors, the way Lara sometimes walked with a slight limp, the satisfied glows they both wore on certain mornings, the evidence had been there for years. But knowing and seeing were entirely different matters.

I should go, she thought, with no more conviction than she'd had a minute ago. I absolutely should-

"I can smell you, you know."

Demetria called out. Cassia's head snapped up to find her sire mother's brown eyes glancing over at her, sharp and knowing.

"Your scent," Demetria continued, still thrusting slowly into Lara, still maintaining that relentless rhythm. "Is distinctive. You've been standing there for some time, daughter."

Lara lifted her head, blinking toward the doorway. When she spotted Cassia, her expression shifted through confusion to surprise to delight.

"Cassia, sweetheart." Lara's voice was remarkably steady for someone currently being fucked on her kitchen table. "We didn't hear you arrive."

"Clearly." Cassia managed, her voice emerging as a croak.

"You could have announced yourself."

"I called out. Twice." Cassia was appalled to hear herself defending her presence, as if the appropriate response to walking in on one's parents having sex wasn't immediate retreat but argument.

"Ah." Demetria pulled out entirely, and Cassia got an unobstructed view of her sire mother's impressive length, glistening with her womb mother’s arousal. "Sorry sweetheart. We were... distracted."

"So, I can see."

The silence that followed was unbearable. Cassia stood in the doorway, her mothers watched her from the table, and somewhere outside a bird sang with oblivious cheerfulness.

Then Lara started to laugh.

It began as a giggle, suppressed behind her hand, then bubbled up into genuine mirth that shook her entire body. Demetria's lips twitched. Cassia felt her face flame even hotter.

"It's not funny," Cassia protested.

"You're right. It's hilarious." Lara sat up, making no move to cover herself, her brown hair a tangled mess and her skin still flushed from orgasm. "Your face. I haven't seen you look that horrified since you walked in on your Aunty Rhea and us when you were fourteen."

"That was different. I didn't know what you were doing."

"And now you do?"

Cassia opened her mouth, closed it, and gave up.

Demetria sighed, a long-suffering sound that didn't quite hide her amusement at the situation. She reached for a towel, thankfully, there was a towel within reach, and began cleaning herself with methodical efficiency. "You're early. We expected you by evening."

"I came as soon as they unlocked the gate." Cassia grasped the change of subject like a drowning futa clutching driftwood. "I missed you both, terribly."

The effect was immediate. Demetria's eyes softened, and she and Lara shared a knowing smile.

Lara, apparently deciding that modesty was no longer a family value, slid off the table and padded naked toward the washbasin. Her curved body moved with the easy comfort of someone completely at home in her own skin, her beta softened features serene despite, or perhaps because of, what they'd been doing.

"You'll stay to eat?" Lara asked, wringing out a cloth. "I was planning to make that lamb stew you like. With the rosemary from the garden."

"I'd like that, Mother." Cassia's throat tightened. Despite the mortification, despite the awkwardness, being home felt right in a way the Academy never quite managed.

"Good." Demetria stepped forward, and Cassia abruptly realized that her sire mother was still naked, still erect, apparently Lara's orgasm hadn't resolved her arousal, and now approaching with the purposeful stride she used when about to deliver a political ultimatum.

"Mother, what are you-"

Demetria stopped directly in front of her, close enough that Cassia could feel the heat radiating from her body, could smell the mingled scents of sex and sweat and something else, something purely alpha that made her knees feel weak.

And then she scooped up Cassia into her arms, hugging her tight.

The embrace lasted perhaps two seconds before Cassia became acutely aware of her Sire mother’s arousal pressing against her hip, hard, and insistent, and impossible to ignore.

"Mother." Cassia whined, her voice muffled by Demetria's collarbone.

Demetria squeezed tighter. "The villa has been far too quiet without you."

"Not that quiet evidently." Cassia's face burned. "Mother. Please. You're still... you know..."

"I'm aware." The amusement in Demetria's voice was infuriating. "It will subside eventually. Your mother was particularly enthusiastic today."

From across the kitchen, Lara made a noise that might have been agreement or might have been laughter. It was difficult to tell.

Cassia tried to wriggle free, but Demetria's arms were like iron bands around her shoulders. "Please," she managed, the word emerging as something close to a whimper. "It's poking me."

"Oh, all right then." Demetria lowered Cassia back onto her feet. Cassia quickly distancing herself from her sire mother's intimidatingly large anatomy.