Tastes In Common

McKenzie Lee opened the door expecting the typical quiet interior designer. Instead Sheena Ryder stepped inside with a bright smile and direct questions about placement and lighting. McKenzie hesitated; she had struggled to move this property and needed the house staged fast. Sheena suggested bold accent walls and removing half the furniture. McKenzie crossed her arms, unmoved. She offered her own plan: muted colors and key pieces left as-is. Sheena shook her head, pressing her tongue to her cheek. Voices rose. Patience frayed. McKenzie finally cut the standoff. “Let’s check the master and see the options in place.” They climbed the stairs without another word. Inside the bedroom, the argument paused. McKenzie noticed the rise of Sheena’s breath beneath her blouse, felt her own pulse tighten. Suddenly neither cared about paint swatches. McKenzie reached out, brushed a strand of hair behind Sheena’s ear, and asked if she was ready to release the tension. Sheena stepped closer. Their mouths met. Hands slid beneath fabric, baring soft breasts. McKenzie’s tongue circled each nipple, then traveled lower. Sheena lay back on the fresh linen, spread her legs, and guided McKenzie’s mouth to her slick heat. She tasted her with slow, deliberate strokes. When Sheena’s fingers slid inside McKenzie, she rode them until she came hard against the sheets. Breathing slowed. Smiles returned. A much better way to agree.