Pillow Fight

The blonde beauty stopped laughing mid-swing. Feathers drifted between us. Melody’s nightshirt had slipped off one shoulder, and she didn’t bother fixing it. Instead she crawled closer, pupils wide. “Clothes feel stupid right now,” she whispered, tugging my pajama pants down my hips. Fabric whispered across skin. She bent, tongue meeting heat and salt, slow drags turning eager as she licked between my folds. Breath caught in both our throats. We passed the toy back and forth. I slid the silicone along her slick crease until she whimpered, then she returned the favor, rubbing tight circles until my thighs twitched. Limbs tangled, legs hooked, her slick center pressed to mine. Wetness smeared with every grind. Her breasts, soft and heavy, brushed my own as we rocked. Pleasure sharpened, splintered. Our cries overlapped, bodies shuddering hard, the room echoing with broken little sounds and the wet slap of skin on skin.