Spanish MILF seduces a woman (lesdom)

Lucia opens up the fridge, stomach rumbling. Nothing — her parents didn't bother buying any food for the house, again. The girl frowns, looking into the empty fridge for a moment again in frustration, before closing it.

The young girl's stomach rumbles again, hunger gnawing at her belly. There's nothing to eat at home, and the thought of another hungry night distresses her. But... there's always her neighbor, Mrs. Ortega — the motherly middle-aged Hispanic woman across the street. She's always treated her warmly ever since she and her family moved into the neighborhood a few years ago, taking care of her whenever her parents haven't. She's always cooking her food, or taking care of her in other ways, like helping her with her homework.

Lucia walks outside, locking up her house behind her. The biting chill of the night air greets her as she steps out onto the sidewalk, making her shiver a bit and stick her hands in the pockets of her trousers. Mrs. Ortega's home is a few houses down, and she makes her way over quickly, eager to hopefully get out of the cold. She knocks on her door, then waits patiently for a few moments before she hears the sound of the door unlocking.

Mrs. Ortega opens the door. She's a beautiful woman, with long thick hair that falls in dark heavy curls around her face, smooth naturally-tan skin, and a voluptuous motherly figure. She's wearing a pair of worn denim jeans, and a comfortable low-cut tank top which accentuates her natural femininity. At the sight of Lucia, she smiles warmly.

"Hola, mijo," she says, a pretty Latin accent coloring her words, "How are you? Are your parents home, honey?"

The girl looks back in the direction of her own house, a bit hesitantly. Mrs. Ortega seems to get the unspoken implication that they aren't, the look in her eyes softening with a maternal warmth. "Are you hungry? I made too much food, and I can't finish it all by myself. Would you like to come inside, Lucia?" she asks gently, leaning down a bit to be more on her level.

Lucia blushes a little, but nods eagerly, "Yes, ma'am."

Mrs. Ortega gives her a fond smile, "Niño, none of this 'ma'am' nonsense. Call me Camila." She reaches over, affectionately ruffling Lucia's hair, and the girl can't help but smile at the gesture.

"Okay, Mrs- I mean, Camila," Lucia replies, heart fluttering a bit at the way Camila smiles brightly at her in response, evidently pleased.

"Come in, está frío afuera, te vas a enfermar," she tuts, taking the girl's hand in her own and leading her into the house, closing the door behind them. Her house is cozy and comfortable, decorated in warm earthy colors, with lots of comfy furniture and homely knick-knacks everywhere. As they walk through Camila's house, Lucia looks around, noticing the photos on the wall. Most of them are family photos of Camila and what must be her children over the years, the photos ranging from her children in their infancy to them as grown adult men and women with young children of their own. It's clear her neighbor holds these photos in high esteem — they don't have a speck of dust on them, and they're all placed in well-trafficked areas of the house.

Lucia turns her gaze back to Camila as they approach the kitchen. Camila's hips swing as she walks, and she blushes at the sight of her ample ass jiggling gently beneath the hem of her jeans. She's been starting to develop an interest in girls, and she finds herself looking at Camila's voluptuous body in a new light than she has in previous years. The thought makes her blush even more, but she tries not to let it show.

The two pass into the kitchen, and Camila turns to look at her. "Mi casa es su casa, niño," she says, gesturing for Lucia to take a seat at one of the chairs, "I made picadillo y arroz congrí. You want some, baby?"

Lucia nods eagerly. She doesn't have any idea what either of those things are, but everything Camila makes is always tasty. She smiles, then bustles around the kitchen for a moment, spooning out food from the pots sitting on the stovetop, before returning with utensils and a plate positively brimming with food. It's full of rice with black beans, and what looks like seasoned ground meat, which both smell delicious. She can't help but stare hungrily as Camila brings her her meal, her ample breasts pushing against the front of her tank top as she bends over to place the plate on the table.

Lucia picks up her spoon, scooping up some of the meat and rice and taking a curious bite. It tastes just as good as it smells, well-seasoned and flavorful, and she digs in eagerly. Camila watches her, smiling affectionately, and takes a seat across from her at the table.

"You like my cooking?" she asks, beaming happily at her.

The girl nods vigorously, "It's great! Thank you so much, Camila." She's always so kind to her, and her heart flutters a bit in response.

She laughs softly, stroking Lucia's hair. "De nada, niño," she says, "I'm glad you like it. You're too skinny!" She affectionately pinches her cheek, making the girl blush. Lucia finishes off her meal quickly, and Camila nods in satisfaction as she cleans up the dishes. As she washes the dishes, Lucia stares down into her lap. The thought of being alone back in her own house makes her feel lonely and afraid, and she doesn't want to leave Camila's home so soon.

After wiping the last of the plates dry, Camila dries her hands on a dishtowel, then turns back to look at Lucia. She smiles warmly at her, reaching out to ruffle her hair again, then leans over to give her a soft kiss on the forehead. As if she knows what she's thinking, she softly says, "You can stay for as long as you want, Lucia. Is there anything else I can do for you, corazoncito?" As she says it, she leans forward on the table, her voluptuous breasts pressing against the front of her tank top, straining against the tight fabric, and she finds herself looking at them, entranced.