Worthy Of A Champion

Sara and Jess burst through the door in their competition gowns, trophy swinging between them like a prize. Laughter spilled through the room. They’d just won. Jess pulled Sara close, hands sliding down her back in a quick, triumphant squeeze. "You were electric out there," Jess said. Sara shook her head. "You carried us. That final spin? My spine’s still vibrating." Sara peeled the dress off and climbed onto the bed, face-down, ass high. She’d left her underwear on; black lace, still damp from the heat of the night. Jess knelt at her thighs, warming oil in her palms. First pass was firm, thumbs digging into the knots between shoulder blades. Sara let out a single, low sound. Jess kept working, slower now. She slid the oil lower, over the curve of Sara’s waist, then smoothed both hands around the sides of her hips until they settled on her ass cheeks. Sara pushed back a fraction. Jess pressed lower. Her thumbs parted the lace, sank between warm skin, found the tight ring of muscle, rubbed oil there in slow circles. Sara’s breath hitched. When Jess leaned in and dragged her tongue along the same path, Sara gasped and widened her thighs. A moment later, Jess was on her back, thighs gripping Sara’s hips. Sara slid two fingers through wet folds, spreading the lips open before sinking in knuckle-deep. She curled them, steady strokes that coaxed slick to spill down her wrist. Jess grabbed at her wrist, urging her faster, thighs twitching. Sara bent, mouth closing over a nipple, sucked hard until Jess arched and moaned like she wanted the whole block to know. They switched again, Jess on top now, riding Sara’s face while her hips ground slow circles against a warm tongue. When Jess came she braced against the headboard, shaking, thighs shaking on either side of Sara’s head. Sara kept licking her through it, soft now, until Jess gave a wrecked little laugh and slid down, tasting herself on Sara’s mouth in a deep, open kiss.