Here For A Friend

Quinn stepped out to find Penelope waiting with that unmistakable what-the-hell look on her face. She thought the woman was the next client until Penelope said she was actually waiting for her friend. "Emily?" Quinn asked. Penelope nodded. "She left ten minutes ago. Some guy came by." The annoyance sharpened Penelope's jaw. "Listen, I’ve got an opening right now. No charge. Let me take care of you." Penelope followed her into the room. "You can undress and lie down," Quinn said, setting out the oils. Penelope paused. "Everything?" Quinn just smiled. "Hard to do my job if the oil can’t touch you." Penelope slipped off her clothes, climbed onto the table, and settled on her stomach. Quinn ran her hands over shoulders and down the long, smooth plane of Penelope’s back. "You’re carrying serious knots right here," she murmured, pressing lower, thumbs brushing the curve just above Penelope’s ass. "What are you doing?" Penelope asked, heat in her voice. "Working them out," Quinn answered calmly and kept going. When she told Penelope to roll onto her back, Quinn poured more oil across her breasts and worked the soft flesh in slow circles. Penelope’s breath hitched; her nipples tightened under the glide of Quinn’s palms. "Still okay?" Quinn asked. Penelope nodded, eyes half-lidded. Hands drifted down over ribs and stomach until they reached the wet heat between her legs. Penelope arched, a low sound slipping free, and Quinn’s reserve finally cracked. They tangled, bare and slick. Mouths met; tongues slid. Quinn pressed Penelope back on the sheet and buried her face between her thighs, licking hungrily while Penelope moaned and gripped her hair. They switched, hips grinding together until the slick slide of their cunts made both women shake and gasp, climaxing hard. Sweat cooling on their skin, Quinn rested her forehead against Penelope’s. "Shame your friend left," she whispered, "but it means you’re all mine."