Super Soaked

Two women eye each other across the room. Their breath catches. Shirts peel away. Bare breasts brush, nipples stiffening on contact. The shorter woman drops to her knees first, tugging down denim and lace in one impatient tug. She buries her mouth between open thighs, tongue sliding, tasting. Fingers grip dark curls. One quick flick of teeth makes her partner jerk and curse. They twist onto the bed, one on her back, the other straddling her face, hips rolling slow and greedy. Tongues circle clits, dip into wet heat. Moans rattle the air, steady and sharp. Fingers curl inside, matching rhythm. Sweat slicks skin, sheets twist tight around their legs. One woman pins the other’s wrists above her head, mouth claiming a breast, sucking hard while her thigh presses hot and insistent between parted legs. They grind until the mattress creaks, until cries catch and bodies tighten, until the world narrows to slick tongues, clenched fingers, and the raw rhythm of women lost in each other.