Body Language - Primal Scream

Mimi spoke in that low, measured way some women have when they know exactly what turns you on. Tantric breath. Noise. Letting it come up from the gut instead of swallowing it. Maria had never heard anyone say it so plainly at a wedding. She drained her glass and asked her straight back to the flat. They barely closed the door before Mimi had her hands on her. Mouth open, tongue firm, pulling Maria’s dress up until it bunched at her waist. Maria slipped two fingers between Mimi’s thighs and found her slick already, hot, ready. The kiss deepened. Each soft sound they made made the next one bolder. Grandmother was next door, close enough that the walls still hummed when a bus passed. But the first long, slow lick Mimi gave her between the legs stayed muffled by Maria’s palm. Another pass, firmer, and Maria bit the side of her own wrist instead. It worked until it didn’t. Mimi pulled a slim silver toy from her bag, clicked it alive, pressed the curved head flush to Maria’s clit. She circled—slow, mean, deliberate. Maria’s hips jerked. The moan came out of her throat anyway, raw and open. Mimi smiled, slid two fingers inside, and worked the vibe at the same time until Maria’s thighs shook around her wrist. She reached for the double-ended toy next, coated it quick, slid one end into herself and the other into Maria. They knelt facing each other on the bed, foreheads touching, breath ragged. Mimi rocked her hips and Maria followed the rhythm. The toy moved with them, smooth and wet, filling both at once. Every thrust came with a small helpless sound from one of them, then the other, until they stopped trying to swallow any of it. They came hard, clenched around the same silicone, faces close, not bothering to lower their voices. The wall did not keep them secret. Neither did they want it to.