Bad Influences-In-Law

Karen pushes the door open like she’s twelve again. Nicole stumbles in after her, giggling low, both of them barefoot and tipsy. Karen’s wife is probably asleep already, door shut, night-light bleeding under the hall. Nicole catches Karen’s wrist and pulls her toward the carpeted stairs. They make it halfway up before Karen spins, drops to her knees right there on the landing, and presses her mouth to Nicole’s foot. Toe-sucking. Quiet, wet little pops. Nicole bites her wrist to shut herself up. Karen switches feet and drags her tongue between each toe until Nicole drags her up by the hair and kisses her with the same foot between them. They tumble into the guest bedroom, door clicking behind them. Clothes hit the floor without grace. Nicole sprawls back, spreads, and Karen dives in headfirst—tongue flat, sloppy. Every time Nicole’s breath hitches too loud, Karen reaches up, pushes two toes between her lips. Nicole sucks on them, tasting pavement and skin and whatever sticky thing they stepped in on the walk home. She comes with her mouth full of Karen’s foot, thighs shaking around Karen’s ears. They swap positions twice more, crawling over each other like horny teenagers trying not to creak the springs. Mouths stay busy: clit, toes, the whole sweaty arch. Nicole nearly laughs once when Karen’s big toe slips in past her teeth, and Karen hushes her with her tongue again. They finish the second round face-down in the pillows, hips rolling, muffled grunts turning into lazy kisses on salty ankles until both of them finally lie still.