Wet & Ready

Reagan Foxx steps onto the patio and catches a stranger already naked in her pool. The girl—Gia, young, full-figured, uninvited—freezes with water dripping from her nipples. Reagan reaches for her phone, says she’ll call the cops. Gia climbs out, droplets tracing every soft curve, and moves close enough for Reagan to smell chlorine and coconut oil on her skin. “Let me change your mind,” she whispers, sliding both hands under Reagan’s silk robe, pushing it off her shoulders. Fingerprints of wet heat follow across Reagan’s breasts, down her stomach, between her legs. Reagan’s panties cling, soaked before Gia even touches them. Gia peels the fabric away, kisses Reagan hard, tongue deep, then guides her onto the lounge. She drops between Reagan’s thighs and licks—slow, hungry strokes that make Reagan’s hips buck. Reagan’s taste coats Gia’s mouth. They switch places; Reagan’s tongue now works Gia’s swollen clit while the girl grinds against her lips. Moments later they’re scissored tight, slick folds sliding, clits kissing, wetness mixing with every rocking thrust. Their moans tangle in the warm air. They keep going—eating, rubbing, fingers pushing in—until both bodies shake through one orgasm after another and finally lie spent, breathing hard under the sun.