Kylie Rocket had the place to herself. She slid her skirt up and her panties down, letting the show on the screen pull her deeper. Her fingers moved slowly between her legs, matching every heated glance, every breathless moan coming from the TV. She was lost in it, hips tilting into her own touch. Then the door opened. Gal Ritchie walked in early, talking about a sold-out movie. Kylie snatched the blanket from the couch and threw it over her bare thighs. Gal dropped onto the cushion beside her, eyes already on the screen. The heat between them built fast. Gal laughed at a bold scene and Kylie tried to stay still, but her hand crept back under the blanket. Her breath caught. She rubbed small, quick circles while the actresses tangled on the screen. Gal caught the movement. With a quick grin she yanked the blanket away. Kylie’s fingers were still pressed against her wet pussy, natural tits rising fast beneath her thin top. Gal watched for a second, clearly turned on, then leaned in. “Fuck it,” she murmured. “That show’s got me soaked too.” She slipped her hand between Kylie’s open thighs, guiding her roommate’s fingers to keep going while she kissed her neck. In moments they were side by side on the couch, legs spread, mouths hungry. They shifted into a hungry sixty-nine, tongues working in the same rhythm the actresses used on screen, natural tits pressed warm against stomachs, fingers sliding in and out in steady, wet strokes until both of them trembled.
Kylie Rocket had the place to herself. She slid her skirt up and her panties down, letting the show on the screen pull her deeper. Her fingers moved slowly between her legs, matching every heated glance, every breathless moan coming from the TV. She was lost in it, hips tilting into her own touch. Then the door opened. Gal Ritchie walked in early, talking about a sold-out movie. Kylie snatched the blanket from the couch and threw it over her bare thighs. Gal dropped onto the cushion beside her, eyes already on the screen. The heat between them built fast. Gal laughed at a bold scene and Kylie tried to stay still, but her hand crept back under the blanket. Her breath caught. She rubbed small, quick circles while the actresses tangled on the screen. Gal caught the movement. With a quick grin she yanked the blanket away. Kylie’s fingers were still pressed against her wet pussy, natural tits rising fast beneath her thin top. Gal watched for a second, clearly turned on, then leaned in. “Fuck it,” she murmured. “That show’s got me soaked too.” She slipped her hand between Kylie’s open thighs, guiding her roommate’s fingers to keep going while she kissed her neck. In moments they were side by side on the couch, legs spread, mouths hungry. They shifted into a hungry sixty-nine, tongues working in the same rhythm the actresses used on screen, natural tits pressed warm against stomachs, fingers sliding in and out in steady, wet strokes until both of them trembled.
