Sitter's Sneaky Peeping

Madi's shift is done. She's walking out when she remembers her purse is still inside. Back she goes. Through the quiet hallway she catches something low, wet, husky—moans, unmistakably Dana's and Reagan's, thick with need. She presses an ear to the bedroom door. The sounds grow clearer, skin slapping, sharp little gasps, the raw rhythm of two women fucking hard. The door opens. Dana and Reagan look down at her, flushed, slick with sweat, caught and curious. They don't scold. They invite. Dana steps aside and reaches for the strap, thick and shining, already waiting. Madi's mouth goes dry. She nods before she can think twice. Dana pushes the length inside her in one smooth stroke, hand on the back of Madi's head, guiding her down between Reagan's thighs. The wet heat of Reagan's cunt fills her mouth while the strap fills her from behind. Dana fucks her steady, deep, every thrust pushing Madi's tongue harder against Reagan's clit. They flip the script. Madi's on top now, Reagan beneath her, thighs spread. Dana lines up, fucks them both in turn, the strap glistening with mixed wetness each time it slips free. She presses it to their lips and they lick it clean, tongues meeting around the silicone, tasting each other, greedy for more. When they finally let Madi up, her legs shake and her lips are swollen. She doesn't want to leave. Not when the next shift could end exactly like this.