Savanna Is the Masseuse - Part 4

The women moved together, sleek with sweat. One spread wide on the sheets while the other sank between her legs, mouth wet and hungry. Her tongue traced slow circles, then flicked with quick strokes that made the first woman gasp and arch. Fingers slid in, two at a time, and the rhythm built—deep, steady, relentless. Every thrust drew a fresh sound from her throat, raw and open. Juice coated the other's hand and chin, the air thick with the smell of sex. She worked her tongue faster, lips sealed tight around the swollen clit, fingers curled just right. The bed creaked beneath them. Skin slapped against skin as hips pushed forward, chasing more. The first woman came hard, body jerking, breath caught between a moan and a curse, but the second kept going, fingers still moving, tongue still pressing until the trembling wouldn't stop.