5 Blondes - Part 4

She moved between her lover’s open legs with the same deliberate hunger a woman might pour wine, fingers sliding across the pale blonde curls already damp and sticky. Her own soaked core pressed tight against the other’s thigh, hips grinding slow and unrelenting. She sank two fingers in on the first push, knuckles deep, felt the sudden silken squeeze and heard the broken sound the smaller woman made when her hole took every inch. A soft suction filled the room, the sound of two soaked cunts working around slick digits and one pretty, pink toy that hummed at low speed. Each new thrust made a wet, hungry rhythm between them, juices dripping down her wrist, coating her knuckles, until her own thighs glistened too. The blonde beneath her lifted and rolled, gripping the sheets, breath quickening each time the toy angled upward and pressed the exact patch of swollen flesh that made her toes curl. They moved like people who already know every sound, every weakness, taking pleasure like it’s an easy, filthy conversation no one else is invited to hear.