Call Of Booty

Avi slouched on the couch, legs tucked under her, fingers stabbing at the controller. Her headset cracked with trash talk, curses flying as she boasted about another win. The door opened behind her. Mackenzie stepped in, purse sliding off her shoulder. "I'm home," she called. She leaned down. Their mouths met—brief, distracted on Avi's side. The gamer didn't look up. "Hey, babe. You're early. How was your— Not you, Drew! Talking to Mackenzie... Everyone says hi." Mackenzie smiled, murmured a hello, then tilted her head. "You still gonna be a while?" Avi grunted. "Almost done." Mackenzie watched the screen, lips curving into something wicked. She moved behind the couch, hands finding Avi's tight shoulders. Thumbs dug in. Avi stiffened, then rolled one shoulder into the pressure. "What're you doing?" "You're sore. You've been curled up like that all day." Mackenzie's voice dropped, softer. Her hands slowed, gliding lower. Fingers curved around Avi's breasts, cupping them through her thin tank. She bent, teeth scraping the side of Avi's neck. "So tense." Avi's moan slipped out before she could bite it back. "Drew, you piece of shit—" she snapped into the mic. "No, that wasn't— Fuck, stop dying!" Mackenzie smiled against her skin. She hooked Avi's shorts, eased them down, then guided her onto her stomach across the cushions. Panties followed. One slick finger slipped between Avi's folds, pushed in deep. Avi gasped, hips jerking. "Lag," she muttered. "Sorry, guys—" The finger fucked her steady, wet sounds barely masked by the game's gunfire. Avi lasted two more minutes before she ripped the headset off. "Break. Yeah, because my girlfriend's trying to fuck me. Deal with it." The plastic clattered onto the table. She reached for Mackenzie, pulled her down, kissed her hard—tongue, teeth, no hurry left in her. The game was forgotten.