Paper Thin Walls

Gianna Dior and Jade Baker sprawled across Gianna's living room floor, Jade twisting the hem of her skirt between her fingers. Meeting the mom always knotted her stomach, and Alexis sounded strict. Gianna laughed softly, leaning over to kiss the worry off Jade's mouth. "She won't bite," she whispered. The front door clicked. Alexis stepped in, hair pinned, silk blouse unbuttoning at the collar. Gianna introduced them with the same easy grace she used to coax Jade out of her clothes. Alexis smiled, eyes warm, and Jade felt the knot loosen. Gianna saw her chance. "Can Jade crash here tonight?" Alexis paused, gaze flicking between them. Separate rooms, she said at last, and the girls agreed with matching innocent nods. Night fell. Jade lay rigid in the guest bed until Gianna's low voice drifted through the drywall. "You touching yourself yet?" Heat prickled down Jade's thighs. They traded filth in hushed bursts—Gianna detailing how wet she wanted Jade's tongue, Jade gasping back every filthy picture that flashed behind her eyes. Fingers worked faster. Breaths shortened. Jade snapped first. She slipped into the hall barefoot, heart slamming, then crashed through Gianna's door. Their mouths met hard. Clothes vanished in hurried tugs. Gianna's lips sealed over Jade's nipple, sucking until Jade arched. Jade dropped between Gianna's spread legs, tongue sliding through slick folds, tasting every throb. They switched, sixty-nine now, each burying her face, licking, moaning into cunt until hips bucked. They rolled, scissoring, wet centers grinding in relentless rhythm. Gianna's thigh flexed; Jade rocked faster, chasing that tight, sweet build. They were seconds from breaking when knuckles rapped the door.