Skin On Skin

Luci Q couldn't ignore the praise circling Kit Farrin's name. She showed up early, already wet. While Kit prepped the room, Luci slipped her fingers under her dress and rubbed quick, greedy circles over her clit in the empty waiting area. Kit began light, bare palms gliding over warm skin, then dropped lower. She sucked each toe, licking along the arch until Luci's thighs tensed. When Kit's oiled breasts pressed down next, their heavy weight slid from collarbone to hips, nipples tracing lazy wet trails. The touch changed. Kit's slick fingers parted Luci's folds and traced inside—slow, deliberate pressure that pulled a whimper loose. She rolled Luci onto her stomach next, spread her cheeks, and pressed her tongue flat to the tight ring of muscle. Two fingers followed, easing in knuckle by knuckle while her mouth stayed busy. Luci came once like that, face buried in the sheets. Kit climbed over her then, thighs framing Luci's head, and lowered until they met mouth to cunt. They rocked against each other's tongues, bodies shining, every motion louder than words. When they finally parted, Luci's legs shook and her skin held Kit's handprints in oil. She booked the next slot before leaving.