Bring Your Own Bolster

Sabina greets Darcie at the door, her smile tightening the second Darcie hands her the bolster. The woman has no shame about it. Sabina sets it on the table while Darcie strips, the black fabric thick enough to lift those hips straight up. When Darcie climbs on, ass in the air, cheeks spread, the whole thing exposed, Sabina swallows. She works the shoulders first. Professional. Then moves down. Her palms cup ass like she’s inspecting it. Darcie moans, backs into the touch. Soft words spill: right there, deeper. The muscles spread beneath Sabina’s hands, slick skin catching on her thumbs. Her breath catches. The angle is better, her fingers slipping between thighs without strain. The bolster lifts everything. She stares openly now, tracing folds with one fingertip. She leans down, lips grazing the back of Darcie’s thigh, then higher, tasting skin that trembles. “Deeper,” she murmurs. Kisses reach closer, breath hot over wet cunt. Sabina grins against her, no longer irritated. She’s grateful for the goddamn thing.