Sharing Our Crush

Kimmy and Alison share everything. Apartment. Classes. The same filthy, undeniable ache for their neighbor. When Penny stops by to screen their cut, the footage barely matters. Their eyes keep drifting to her mouth, her hands, the way her blouse pulls tight over her heavy tits. They try to listen. They really do. Then the words tumble out—half confession, half dare—and the air thickens. Penny watches them both, amused, until the girls start reaching for her like children fighting over a toy. She catches their wrists. No tug-of-war. No winners and losers. “There’s plenty of me,” she says, voice low. Clothes come off in a hurry. Penny’s breasts fill Kimmy’s small hands; Alison’s slender fingers slide between her legs, slick and sure. The three of them tangle on the couch, sharing heat, sharing breath, trading places with every moan. Penny tastes sweet, and wet, and every inch worth the wait.