No Need For A Towel

Aaliyah stands frozen over the table, towel still clutched in her hands. Cherie lies face down, bare skin already glistening, and tells her exactly what she wants. Not the usual rubdown. Tits and cunt. Hands working over both until her nipples stiffen and her cunt grows slick. Aaliyah hesitates, then obeys. Her palms cup Cherie's heavy breasts, thumbs brushing stiff peaks, the room suddenly thick with breath. She moves lower. Fingers sliding through wet folds, tongue replacing them when Cherie spreads her legs wider. They trade places fast. Cherie's mouth on Aaliyah's cunt, tongue flicking and sucking until the younger woman comes hard against her lips. Aaliyah returns the favor moments later, face buried between Cherie's thighs, tasting her until her thighs shake and her moan cracks open. Both women leave the table flushed, sheets damp, breathing rough.