Sophia Scissors Dharma

Sophia Burns and Dharma Jones fall together like they have done it before. Sophia presses Dharma onto the sheets and sinks between her thighs, tongue moving in slow, wet circles over swollen folds. Dharma’s fingers thread through Sophia’s hair, hips lifting, breath catching. When Sophia slips two fingers inside, Dharma’s back arches and a low, throaty sound breaks free. They shift, legs tangle, bodies slide until they lie scissored—clits brushing, wetness meeting wetness. They rock together, hard and slick, small breasts grazing, nipples stiff. Sophia’s moans turn ragged when Dharma’s thumb finds her clit; Dharma answers with her own gasp when Sophia curls fingers deeper. Sweat gathers along collarbones. They grind harder, chasing the sharp rise, then the sudden, shattering release that leaves them shaking and still.