The Shy Roommate

Anna De Ville’s music hit like a brick through glass. Kat Dior paused mid-stroke, fingers still slick, and padded over to knock on her roommate’s door. “Hey. Turn it down.” Anna lowered the volume but kept her eyes on the floor, cheeks flushed even before Kat’s nudity registered. Kat pressed. Saturday night, friends, some kind of life. Anna finally admitted there was a girl from a punk show she liked but had no idea how to proceed. Kat raised one brow. “Show me.” Confusion clouded Anna’s face, but Kat moved fast—fingers undoing plaid, peeling off cotton, mouth hot against Anna’s neck, then lower. Her tongue circled firm nipples before she tugged Anna’s panties aside and licked her open. The first climax left Anna shaking. Kat flipped her onto her stomach, tongue diving between firm cheeks while Anna’s fingers worked her own cunt. She brought her close again, then slid three fingers knuckle-deep. When Anna’s turn came, she mirrored the rhythm, pumping hard until Kat’s thighs seized and her release gushed across the sheets. Anna ground her face between Kat’s legs to drag out another moan. Kat answered by curling her fingers just right, coaxing a rushing arc of squirt from Anna’s pussy. Their mouths met again in a frantic sixty-nine, Kat’s hips rocking against Anna’s tongue. She slid lower, pressed their slick pussies together, grinding until slick sounds gave way to Anna’s strangled cry. Kat finished her with slow, deliberate laps that tasted like proof. Soon the only sound left was wet skin and broken breathing.