Mia had just turned nineteen and was still living at home while she took online classes. Her mom, Rachel, was forty-two, divorced for five years, and still looked hot as hell with her curvy body and long dark hair. They had always been close, more like best friends than mother and daughter.One Friday night they were sitting on the couch with a bottle of wine, talking about men. Rachel sighed and admitted something she had never said out loud.“I miss having a real Daddy,” she said, cheeks a little pink from the wine. “Someone older, strong, who just takes control and tells me what to do.”Mia’s heart jumped. She had been having the same thoughts for months. She bit her lip and whispered, “Me too, Mom. I keep thinking about it… a lot.”They looked at each other and laughed nervously, but the idea didn’t go away. Later that night, tipsy and giggling, they made a secret profile together on a private site. They wrote that they were a mother and daughter looking for one dominant older man
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