Blended Ch 43

Piper wakes up with her heart pounding. She dreamed about being late for a date with Ines. She kept dashing about trying to find the right spot, but not getting out her phone to try to GPS it, even though she knew that she should. As she’d been running around, she knew that she’d missed several dates already. There had been an oppressive sense of having fallen behind somehow, needing to catch up.

She sits up and takes a few deep breaths, then settles back down. It’s time for her to get up, but that’s asking a lot. Her morning wood is out of her panties the weird way: instead of coming out the top like usual, it’s gone out along with her leg. She scowls and gives it a flick. It’s like granite.

Piper sighs. There’s relief that the dream isn’t real. Melancholy that Ines is long way off, and probably in bed with someone else. Also, memories of the day before. If Piper’s honest with herself, she was always going to hook up with Bella at some point. That had felt inevitable. Riley, though? Some part of her had sort of considered her off-limits. The memories are a bit of a tangle, but they still make her erection throb.

She needs to get up, but instead she sheds her panties and undershirt and lies down naked. She grips her cock with her right hand and squeezes while her left middle finger lightly strokes her out lips for a moment before moving to her hood. She rubs softly for a few moments before things warm up and she gets going, side to side. Her thighs close, and things get heated. She remembers riding Riley’s cock, but the images in her mind are mostly of Ines. Moment to moment, it feels best when Ines is behind her, but she still likes it best in missionary. The way that Ines cups her face when she fucks her makes Piper cum incredibly hard.

She closes her eyes and hisses, trembling from head to toe. Those feelings linger when she starts pulling her cock, and her imagination quickly shifts gears. Instead of Ines’s passion, she taps into Bella’s softness and Riley’s goddess-like physical perfection.

She lets out a big sigh, then lifts her head and looks grumpily at the mess all over her stomach.

In the shower, she wakes up and her thoughts transition smoothly from messy to tidy. Wrapped in her robe, she checks Kayla’s room. She’s not here. Touchdown.

Downstairs, she drinks coffee and warms up the griddle. If the moms were home, she would flex by making pancakes from scratch, but they are not. She mixes batter from a box and pours chocolate chips into a small bowl, whips two eggs in another bowl for Riley, starts a pot of coffee, peels two oranges, and slices some strawberries.

The griddle’s ready. She starts the pancakes, and as the smell of them grows stronger, like clockwork, she can hear people beginning to stir upstairs. It’s showtime.