Massage Trainees

Tiffany Tatum and Missy Luv move together like they already know how. Hands slip under clothes, then past fabric, and fingers find slick heat. They work each other in slow, steady strokes at first. Then faster, until Missy spreads wider and lets Tiffany press two fingers deep. The other girl rocks back with her mouth open, tasting what she’s feeling. They trade places without hurry. Tiffany lies back, knees falling open, and Missy’s tongue drags a wet line across her before circling the swollen spot that makes her hips jump. Every lick stays sure, every thrust of fingers stays measured. The wet sound of it fills the room—quiet at first, then loud as both start to shake.