The Art of Pussy Eating: How Wet Can You Get

After practice the locker room heat clings to Uma Jolie’s skin, but the urge to rinse off alone wins out. She slips behind the bathroom door, peeling off her damp tee, knee socks, and cotton shorts. Outside, Angela White and Carter Cruise trade quiet laughs at their teammate’s modesty. Angela edges the door open. She watches the flash of Uma’s flushed skin, then leans back to whisper: white panties plastered dark between her legs, soaked straight through. They shove inside. Laughing, the taller girls hoist a squirming Uma onto the bedroom carpet, teasing that the wet spot has nothing to do with sweat. Pink cotton is tugged down, twisted, pressed between Uma’s own lips. Angela dips two fingers through slick folds, brings them to her mouth, and smiles. “Told you she’s horny.” She lowers her tongue first, dragging slow heat over Uma’s swollen clit. Carter takes the next taste, and the gentle lapping only makes Uma drip faster. The girls shift, Uma straddling Carter’s eager mouth while her own lips part Angela’s smooth cunt. Wet sounds fill the room—Angela’s low hums against Uma’s tongue, Carter’s muffled sighs between Uma’s thighs. Hands and mouths trade places until Uma’s fingers join Carter’s on Angela’s clit and they both drive her over, hips jerking. Then Angela plants herself on Uma’s face, thick thighs framing flushed cheeks, while Carter pins Uma’s knees and feasts again. Positions flip, Carter sitting now, Angela behind her licking stripes down her spine. Together they edge Carter higher, tongues meeting, breath syncing, until she comes hard, groaning into Angela’s mouth. The three slow, breathing tangled, slick skin cooling in the late afternoon light.