On The Wave

Coco drops between Milly’s spread thighs by the pool. Older woman, legs open, sun warm on her belly. Coco presses her mouth to already wet folds and Milly’s back lifts on a quick breath. Tongue finds the right spot, circles, presses, then slides lower, tasting salt and skin. Fingers slide inside; two at once, curling slow. Milly rocks her hips, hand buried in Coco’s hair. She whispers something low when Coco sucks gently around her clit. The lounger creaks under shifting weight. Coco’s own hips move without thought, seeking friction against the chair. Sweat beads on Milly’s throat. Her breath comes shorter. She starts to break when Coco speeds the steady pull and press of tongue and fingers. Pleasure climbs sharp, then spills—hard, rolling, soaked. Milly’s legs shake. Coco moans right against her and rocks harder through it, still licking. They don’t quite lose it. Some things just get louder with time.