Someone I Admire

Harmony Rivers and Lulu Chu draw a blank on role models for their school project. Too many standouts. Lulu throws out London's name—Harmony's stepmom, sharp, successful, business owner. Harmony bites. Project gold, she thinks. The next day they trail London through her sleek office. Once seated, questions start, then stall. Lulu steers them sideways. Each line drips heavier, eyes linger. Harmony shrinks in her chair. London answers without missing a beat, lips curving, thighs parting just enough. Heat sparks. Both women glance over, offer Harmony an out. She stays put, notebook clenched, refusing to lose her A over their brewing affair. Lulu leans in first. Mouth meets London's. Hands slide beneath tailored fabric, finding skin already warm. London parts her legs wider on the leather chair, lets Lulu's fingers slip beneath lace, stroking slick folds with slow circles. Wet sounds fill the quiet office. Harmony's pencil digs into paper. She keeps writing, eyes fixed, refusing to blink. London moans low, rolling her hips. Lulu pushes two fingers inside her, thumb still working the swollen clit. London reaches down, grips Lulu's wrist, guides the rhythm deeper. Juices coat Lulu's knuckles. They kiss harder, tongues sliding, breath ragged. London tugs Lulu's top down, sucks a tight nipple into her mouth. Teeth graze. Lulu gasps and pumps faster, palm slapping wet flesh. London stands, bends over the desk. Lulu yanks the skirt to her waist, spreads London's ass, tongue diving straight to her soaked pussy. She licks broad and flat, sucks the clit between her lips, then spears inside with quick thrusts. London grinds back, knuckles white on the edge. Harmony scribbles every filthy detail, pulse pounding between her own thighs. They switch. London drops to her knees, drags Lulu's panties aside, buries her face between slim legs. She eats greedily, sucking folds, flicking the clit until Lulu's thighs shake. Fingers join—two, then three—stretching Lulu open, knuckles disappearing. Lulu comes with a sharp cry, flooding London's tongue. London swallows, wipes her mouth, stands, and kisses Lulu hard so she tastes herself. London bends Harmony’s friend over the desk now, straps on a thick toy. She presses the head to Lulu’s entrance, pushes in slow and steady. Lulu’s breath hitches with each inch. London fucks her deep, hips snapping, one hand pinning Lulu’s lower back. Wet suction sounds echo. Lulu reaches back, spreads herself wider, begging for more. London gives it—faster, harder—until Lulu comes again, shaking, dripping down her thighs. Sweaty, satisfied, they straighten clothes. London smooths her blouse. Lulu fixes her hair. Harmony’s notebook is full, face burning. The interview, she realizes, is going to earn her more than an A.