Sweet Fruit

Mia gets straight to it. She wants Karol’s cunt and doesn’t pretend otherwise. They trade open-mouthed kisses, tongues sliding, until the clothes drop and skin meets skin. Mia sinks her fingers in first, slides two inside the snug heat, thumb firm against Karol’s clit. Each thrust finds slicker walls, hotter breath on her shoulder. When her mouth replaces the hand, tongue laps every slick fold, Karol shudders, hips rolling against the steady pressure. They shift; Karol rolls over, knees spread wider now, her wetness glossy in the light. Mia licks deeper, circles the tight ring of muscle until Karol’s breath breaks. A new angle, a fresh dip of fingers, and Karol gasps, thighs twitching. She’s dripping, shiny trails sliding down the inside of each leg. Then Karol decides it’s her turn. She pushes Mia onto her back, parts her with two fingers, gives the same focused licking, lips sealed over Mia’s clit, tongue lashing until she jerks and moans. They trade places again and again, trading tastes, trading wetness, fucking each other through every shift until both are soaked, pulsing, and spent.