Girls Kissing Girls #25

Jessy slips in through the back, shoes in hand. The house sits quiet. She calls Zoe once, twice, and learns she is only blocks away. So Jessy says the traffic word and ducks into the closet instead, phone still at her ear. Through the slats she watches her wife cross the bedroom, jacket shrugged off, blouse buttons flicked loose one at a time. Zoe keeps talking, voice warm through the speaker, while her bra drops to the rug and her breasts spill free. A low sigh slips out as she rolls each nipple between her fingers, rolling them to stiff peaks. Jessy’s breath fogs against the closet door. Zoe kicks away her skirt next, panties following in a quick slide down her hips. She stretches out on the bed, legs parted, one hand already gliding between her thighs. On the phone she moans, soft and filthy, saying exactly what she’d do if Jessy were home. Jessy’s cunt answers, a tight pulse between her legs she can’t ignore. The fingers on the screen grow faster, wetter. Zoe’s hips rise to meet them, breath coming sharp now. That sound, slick and needy, drags Jessy out of the dark. She steps barefoot onto the floorboards, drops her own clothes in a trail to the bed, and crawls between her wife’s open thighs, mouth already parting for a taste.