Bibi's New Lover

Yasmeena’s mind drifts back to Bibi. She counts the hours until that mouth—full, painted, impossibly soft—parts her thighs again. Already she can feel the wet heat of it, tracing slow circles over her clit before sliding lower, tasting every shy inch of her cunt. Bibi’s hair will spill across her stomach, cool blonde silk against flushed skin. Later, when it’s her turn, she’ll crawl between Bibi’s open legs, tongue greedy for the sweet, heavier scent waiting there, and she’ll lick her until the older woman’s hips shake and she swears in a cracked, low voice.