Scenes From A Cell - Part 1

Two women tangled up beneath the prison showerheads, hot water slicking their skin as they drive fingers into each other. One leans against the tiled wall, legs spread wide, head tipped back, letting the spray hit her tits. The other works her open palm between those slick folds, two fingers knuckle-deep, pumping fast, the wet slap audible above the hiss of the water. Her mouth finds the first woman’s cunt, tongue flattening, then flicking, sucking the swollen clit until it pulses. The one against the wall moans low, grabs a fistful of wet hair, grinds down harder. The second woman answers with another finger, stretching her, curling, stroking the spot that makes her thighs shake. Steam rises. They trade places. The other spreads her ass, rubs her own opening against eager lips, rides the tongue that pushes inside her tight, aching cunt. The rhythm builds—fingers, tongues, shallow breaths—until the tiled room echoes with guttural cries and the sharp scent of sex mixing with cheap soap. They come with their mouths still full, bodies jerking, water washing everything clean except the memory.