Virginity Pact

Destiny Mira and Avery Black slip in from prom, heels dangling from limp wrists. Their idiot boyfriends passed out the second they hit the couch. Now the girls face each other in the low light—silk dresses sticking to hot skin, cheeks still flushed, lips glossed and barely kissed. Their eyes lock; the silent agreement is instant and absolute. Destiny reaches back, unzips Avery in one smooth tug. The dress slides off; nothing underneath but baby-soft, perfect skin. Avery returns the favor, baring Destiny’s high tits, small pink nipples already tight. Neither pauses. Avery kisses Destiny hard, tongue greedy, hands dropping to grab her ass and squeeze it hard. Destiny moans against her mouth, grinds her pelvis forward, pussy already slick. They hit the bed still half-standing. Destiny pushes Avery down, spreads her open, plants her mouth between those slim thighs. Her tongue drags in slow, deliberate licks, then quick flicks right over Avery’s swollen clit. Avery’s spine arches, fists clench the sheets. She reaches for Destiny’s head, fingers threading through dark hair, urging her deeper. Destiny slides two fingers into the tight, wet heat and curls them. Avery gasps—voice cracking—and her legs shake. Destiny pumps steadily, lips sealed around her clit, sucking in wet pulls that match the rhythm of her hand. Avery writhes, gasping, heels digging into the mattress. “Destiny…fuck,” is all she can manage before her first orgasm hits, cunt pulsing hard around those fingers. Before she’s fully come down, Avery flips her, straddling Destiny’s face. Destiny’s tongue meets her again, but now they’re sixty-nining, each girl licking and sucking in messy, urgent strokes. Destiny’s thick thighs part wider; Avery buries her mouth between them, tasting sweet teen cunt, nose pressed into soft curls. Fingers reach for whatever they can hold—breasts, hips, ass—nothing gentle, nothing wasted. Avery slips three fingers inside Destiny, curls them against her g-spot, and sucks on her clit like she needs it to breathe. Destiny bucks, whimpers. The second orgasm tears through her, harder than the first. Her thighs snap around Avery’s head, squeezing as she creams on her tongue. Still hungry, Destiny reaches into her drawer, pulls out the thick black strap-on they’d bought “just in case.” Lube glistens as she rolls it over her hips. Avery climbs on top, sinks down slow—taking the head, then the shaft, stretching tight around the silicone. She rides fast once she’s full, breasts bouncing, wetness shining down her inner thighs and Destiny’s belly. Destiny bucks upward, driving every thrust home while her fingers work Avery’s clit in tight circles. Avery’s second come is sharp and loud; her body locks, slick running down the length inside her. They switch. Destiny bends Avery over the pillows, grips her hips, fucks her from behind in hard strokes that slap skin. Avery begs—voice cracked and breathless—and comes again, gasping into the sheets. Afterward they sprawl across the wrecked bed, strap-on tossed aside, limbs tangled. Two virgins, utterly ruined by prom night in the best possible way. They fall asleep tangled, sticky, smiles lazy and deeply satisfied.