I Ain't No Pink Pussy!

Tori floats facedown in the pool, her bikini riding high on her hips, the polka dot fabric stretched tight across her cunt. I slip out of my own suit, leaving wet footprints on the concrete. When I reach her she rises on her elbows, lips already open, breath hot against my thighs. I swing a leg over, settle, and grind down until the pressure drags a long moan out of me. Her tongue is quick, greedy. I ride the pulse of it in short, rocking motions, feeling her nose nudge deeper each time I roll forward. The shade of an umbrella breaks across her back in perfect squares; every shift I make drags the suntan lines taut against her skin. I tighten, let the ripple spread, then lean back just far enough to watch her glistening mouth work. I keep her exactly where I want her until the ache leaves me breathless, hips bucking once, twice, hard enough to slosh water over the tile.