It's Their Loss...

Ellie walked in, shoulders curled forward, the weight of the day still clinging to her. Lisa looked up from the couch and saw it instantly—the slump of her girl’s mouth, the shine in her eyes that hadn’t quite spilled over. She rose, hand already reaching. “What happened?” Ellie shook her head. “Nobody signed it.” The yearbook lay limp in her grip, untouched pages pale under the lamplight. “Not one person.” Lisa’s arms opened. Ellie stepped inside them. The press of her cheek against Lisa’s breasts, warm through silk, offered the first real breath she’d taken since lunch. Lisa stroked the length of her back in slow, certain passes. “You’re liked, baby. More than you know.” Ellie’s voice came muffled. “Doesn’t feel like it.” Lisa lifted Ellie’s chin, kissed the corner of her mouth, lingered until the tension eased. When the kiss broke, Lisa slid a palm beneath Ellie’s shirt, fingers spreading heat across skin still chilled from the afternoon. Ellie’s breath hitched; her hips pressed closer without thought. Lisa guided her to the bedroom. Every button undone revealed another stretch of softness—slight breasts tipped in rose, belly that trembled under lips. She knelt, tugged Ellie’s skirt and panties away in one smooth motion, then parted her with gentle thumbs. The slick heat met Lisa’s tongue; Ellie’s fingers threaded through her hair, anchoring. Lisa took her time. She licked along the seam until Ellie’s thighs shook, then sucked the swollen clit in a firm, rhythmic pull. Two fingers slid inside—slow, steady—curving to meet that hidden ridge. Ellie’s moan cracked open, quiet at first, then loud enough to fill the room. Lisa worked deeper, wrist twisting in measured strokes until the younger girl’s belly fluttered and her knees buckled. They moved to the bed. Lisa shed her own clothes, straddled Ellie’s face, and lowered until slick folds met eager lips. Ellie licked with hungry, inexpert devotion, nose pressed to Lisa’s clit. Lisa rocked, small, controlled circles, guiding Ellie’s tongue where pressure built fastest. Her hand reached back, fingers curling once more inside Ellie’s cunt, matching every thrust of her own hips until both came—Lisa first, thighs tightening, Ellie’s orgasm following, walls pulsing tight around Lisa’s knuckles. Afterward, Lisa lay beside her, stroking sweat-damp hair from Ellie’s temple. No words passed. The silence settled like warm silk, heavy with the scent of shared skin and release.