Get Up

Charlie turned every drawer upside down, frantic, but her favorite toy was gone. She slipped into Kit's bedroom and rifled through the nightstand, slick palms hunting for something to take the edge off. Kit caught her wrist mid-drawer. She stepped closer, silk robe sliding open. Charlie saw soft hips, full tits, and a curve of cunt already glistening. No toy needed. Kit's mouth met hers slow, tongues sliding thick. Hands dove between slick folds, fingers teasing then curling inside. Wet sounds filled the room. Charlie gasped into the kiss as Kit worked deeper, knuckles brushing just right. Kit eased Charlie onto the bed, pushed her thighs wide. Tongue dragged a firm, wet stripe across her asshole, circling, tasting. Charlie clenched, hips rocking. Kit kissed, licked, then sucked Charlie's swollen clit until her legs shook. Charlie opened up, breaths shallow, that slick heat begging. Kit folded her hand small, wrist gleaming, and slid inside—slow, perfect, relentless—filling Charlie to her knuckles, owning every pulse around her.