Swapping Phones & Swapping Spit

Sheena Ryder spots the dirty text lighting up the stolen phone. Her friend met someone at the club last night, and now that someone—Little Puck—thinks she’s still game. Sheena grins, amused at first, then irritated when her friend starts dodging the eager replies. One more coy stall and Sheena takes the phone. She types back, hungry, reckless. She meets Little Puck at the door wearing her friend’s perfume and nothing else that matters. Little Puck’s eyes drop straight to the heavy tits straining against the thin robe. They kiss before names are exchanged. Sheena’s tongue slides deep, greedy, tasting gloss and hunger. Hands roam fast; Little Puck palms those full breasts, thumbs circling stiff nipples until Sheena’s robe hits the floor. Fingers slip between slick folds, stroking, spreading, sinking in. Sheena moans into Little Puck’s mouth and grinds down, riding two fingers that curl just right. They stumble to the bed already tangled. Little Puck drops between Sheena’s thighs and eats like she’s starved, tongue flicking, lips sealing over the swollen clit. Sheena’s hips jerk; she grabs Little Puck’s hair and pulls her closer. When she can’t stand waiting, she twists them into a sixty-nine, burying her face between Little Puck’s thighs while Little Puck keeps licking. Wet sounds fill the room—soft gasps, the slap of tongues, the filthy rhythm of fingers pumping in and out. Sheena comes first, thighs shaking around Little Puck’s head, then flips her over and returns the favor until Little Puck’s back arches off the sheets. Two women, phones forgotten, mouths and hands busy, bodies slick and spent.