So, We're BOTH Single Now?

Diana and Taylor burst through the apartment door laughing, bags swinging, their single status finally aligning like a switch flipped. They tossed their finds across the bed and started peeling off street clothes without a second thought. Diana slipped into a sheer black bodysuit cut high on the hips; the lace traced her nipples as she straightened. Taylor stepped into a blood-red mini dress, back split so low it stopped just shy of her ass. They turned to each other for judgment, then paused. The room felt smaller. Diana arched, running her palms over her own waist. "You like?" Taylor’s eyes tracked the movement, throat working. "Take another step." She pulled the zipper of her own dress down an inch more, watching Diana’s gaze drop to the swell of her breasts. Heat pooled low in both bellies. Taylor pushed the fabric off her shoulders. It slid to the floor in a red puddle. Diana followed the sound with her teeth pressed to her lip, then rolled the bodysuit straps off her arms. The material caught, stretched across her hips, then dropped. Cool air hit damp skin. They closed the last step together. Diana’s hands found the curve of Taylor’s lower back. A slow palm stroke downward. Taylor’s thigh slipped between Diana’s, heat meeting heat. A shared exhale. Diana dipped her head, mouth brushing the shell of Taylor’s ear. "We have time before the club." The kiss landed open-mouthed. Taylor answered with teeth, then hands everywhere—squeezing, parting, searching. Diana answered by cupping Taylor’s breast, thumb dragging over a stiff nipple until she whimpered. They tumbled sideways onto the pile of discarded clothes, legs tangled. Fingers found slick skin, strokes turning from teasing to urgent. Diana spread wide as Taylor sank two fingers deep, thumb circling her clit in tight rhythm. She hooked one heel over Taylor’s shoulder, hips lifting. The sound of wet friction filled the room. Taylor came first, shuddering above her, cunt pulsing around Diana’s curling fingers. The aftershocks pushed Diana over the edge; she clenched, gasped, and cried out into Taylor’s neck. A pause, breathless. Then they traded wicked glances, already reaching again. No need to leave yet.