One More Time

Dana starts behind Jessa. Straps secured tight against her hips, the thick silicone jutting forward. She spits on the head once, rubs it against Jessa’s cunt, then pushes in slow—until their bodies meet. Jessa grunts. Dana pulls back and slams again, harder, the harness slapping her skin on every thrust. They find a rough rhythm and hold it. Dana’s nails dig half-moons into Jessa’s waist, guiding every stroke. Sweat runs between Jessa’s shoulder blades; Dana leans down, licks it away. Their argument is gone. There’s only the snap of leather, the wet sound of the toy moving in and out, Jessa’s breath breaking every time Dana bottoms out. Dana reaches under, finds Jessa’s clit, rubs circles while she keeps driving in. She doesn’t speed up until Jessa starts shaking. Then she fucks harder—short, brutal strokes, thighs burning—until Jessa cries out and the orgasm hits, clenching around silicone that refuses to yield. Dana stays buried to the hilt, breathing against Jessa’s spine until the spasms fade.