I Think She Likes Girls

Layla Rose's boyfriend paid Gia Grace to give her a massage that would end with both girls tangled up and dripping. Layla felt shy at the start, but the oil and slow hands melted her hesitation fast. She’d said it plainly: she’d do anything to please him. Gia worked higher, hands gliding up those smooth thighs until her palms cupped bare skin and the heat between Layla’s legs became impossible to ignore. Both of them were wet now—slick skin, quickened breath, a shared pulse. They kept touching until desire took over. Gia lowered her mouth to Layla’s soaked pussy, licked in slow strokes, then slid two fingers deep, pumping until the wet sounds filled the room and neither girl could stop.