Ladies' Day In

Joanna Angel and Romi Rain sprawl across the couch, finally off the clock together after weeks of ignoring their own schedules. Oil glistens along forearms, towels hit the floor, and fingers find warm skin. Joanna works the slick length of Romi’s back with steady pressure, thumbs digging low, palms gliding over the curve of her ass. When her hand slides between parted thighs, Romi answers with a short, hungry breath that tightens into a quiet moan. Oil spreads, bodies press, mouths meet; tongues trace and dip while hips rock in measured rhythm. Each slow grind leaves a slick trail. The room smells like citrus and sweat and lotion. They chase the same high until muscles lock, breath catches, and release drags a long, shuddering sound from them both.