I'll Fix You Right Up

Nina showed up wrecked from the accident. Rio caught the look in her eyes and began her slow work. Her accent thickened when she asked Nina to take off her clothes and stretch out facedown. The table creaked once beneath her weight. Rio took her bare feet first, pressing firm circles into the heels, coaxing the tension out. Her hands slid higher, thumbs digging into the long muscles of Nina’s calves, then softening where her thighs began to tighten. Rio kneaded, stretched, smoothed. When the front of the body was unlocked she had Nina turn over. Nipples pebbled under the sudden air. Rio kissed one, then closed her teeth around it—soft bite, slow pull, warm drag of tongue. She gave the other nipple the same treatment, never breaking rhythm, never saying a word beyond a murmur that sounded like instruction and felt like velvet. She worked her way lower, the sound of her mouth growing wetter as she opened Nina with careful fingers. Rio spit straight onto her clit and lapped it, lips pulling, tongue fluttering just fast enough to keep Nina pinned and breathing hard. Nina got restless, pleading with her hips. Rio swung around without leaving the table, knees on either side of Nina’s shoulders, ass high, cunt slick and lowered until Nina could lick upward and find her. They rocked, used, drank. When Rio pulled Nina up to kiss her the shared taste was thick on both tongues, sweet and faint with sweat, everything loose and warm in the aftermath.