Catfight

Vanda Lust starts trouble because it feels good. She picks at Bailey Ryder until they tumble, shove, hit each other with pillows. One pillow lands a little too hard, and clothes start coming off like they should. When the giggles fade, the girls just watch each other. Bailey’s eyes drop, her mouth parts; she climbs onto the blonde and stretches out on top of her. Their lips meet and the kiss deepens, wet and open. Vanda slides a hand between Bailey’s thighs, parts the shaved lips with two fingers, then leans in to taste. She licks slow, keeps a finger inside, pauses only to pull a dark nipple into her mouth, sucking hard until Bailey shivers. The rhythm keeps Bailey climbing. When she breaks it is sudden, raw—her thighs locking, voice caught on a moan, whole body tight around Vanda’s mouth. She needs only a moment to breathe before she flips the script. Bailey presses Vanda flat, kisses her, pushes two fingers straight into the slick heat between those pale legs. She keeps kissing through every stroke, thumb flicking the swollen clit, never breaking rhythm until Vanda arches, gasps, and comes with the same helpless sound. Afterward they lie tangled, spooned. Vanda’s smile curves soft against Bailey’s shoulder, pleased at how well a fight still ends.