Wild School Girl

Stephanie shows up a little flushed from the walk. The studio smells like warm almond and cedar. Rayveness meets her at the door, eyes flicking straight down the front of her shirt, then back up with a slow smile. "Shower first," she says, already steering Stephanie toward the small tiled room. Under hot water, Stephanie rinses salt and city grime. She steps out, skin pink and still wet. Rayveness waits with a linen sheet folded over one arm. She tugs it away the moment Stephanie stretches out on the table, leaving every inch bare under warm lamplight. Rayveness drizzles oil down Stephanie’s spine. The liquid catches the light, trickles between her cheeks, runs along the full curve of each breast as she rolls onto her back. Rayveness’s hands follow the same path. Her thumbs circle the swell beneath each nipple, then squeeze, coaxing them tight. A soft click of her tongue. That’s all the warning. She kicks off her thong, strips the thin top that already stretches across her own heavier chest, and climbs onto the table. Skin slides on skin. Rayveness lowers her whole body, full breasts flattened to Stephanie’s smaller, firm ones, bellies pressing together. She rocks her hips so the slick oil lets her glide the length of Stephanie’s torso. Their nipples catch. Each pass draws a short gasp. Rayveness smells herself mixed with almond; it turns her breathing heavier. She moves lower, drags the weight of her tits down Stephanie’s stomach, the valley between them parting to cradle Stephanie’s smooth mound for a single obscene heartbeat before sliding off again. Finally she settles between Stephanie’s thighs. Oil gleams on full lips already parted. Rayveness parts them wider with her thumbs, studies the flushed inner pink, then leans in and runs her tongue in one firm stroke from entrance to clit. Stephanie jerks. Rayveness doesn’t stop; she closes her mouth over the whole cunt, sucks gently, then zeroes on the stiff nub with quick, flat laps. Her nose nudges Stephanie’s clit while two long fingers sink in knuckle-deep, curling up on each retreat. When she feels the first pulse start, Rayveness rises onto her knees. She plants one knee by Stephanie’s shoulder, swings the other across until Stephanie’s face is buried in soft, warm cleavage. Oil-damp tits surround her cheeks. Stephanie breathes hot against Rayveness’s skin. Rayveness rides her own hand while Stephanie’s tongue darts upward between the sliding breasts whenever she can reach. Their moans braid together. The wet slap of Rayveness’s fingers speeds up, falters, quickens again. Stephanie comes with a strangled whimper. Her thighs clamp around Rayveness’s wrist, hips bucking, clit twitching under the unrelenting tongue. Rayveness doesn’t let up until the tremors fade into limp twitches. Only then does she ease her slick fingers free and sit back on her heels. Both women shine under the overhead light—skin glossy with oil, mouths parted, chests heaving—and the room smells unmistakably of sex.