British Invasion

Sophia Knight has only been in L.A. a few weeks, but she already moves through Chloe Sky’s apartment like she owns the place. When the English girl pulls a small bottle of massage oil from her carry-on, Chloe tilts her head, curious. Sophia’s smile is slow. Back home she and her friends used to strip down after lectures and spend entire evenings trading long, slippery strokes, the kind that left everyone loose-limbed and wet. Chloe’s never heard of such parties, yet the idea makes heat crawl up her neck. She agrees to a sample. Sophia starts at the shoulders and works her way down, palms gliding over smooth skin until the American girl is lying facedown, breathing deep and slow. The oil warms under her hands. When Sophia’s fingertips finally slip between Chloe’s thighs, the younger girl’s hips rise without thinking. A soft sound escapes her. Sophia teases the slick folds, circles the swollen clit, then slides one finger, then two, inside the snug heat she finds there. Chloe’s breath hitches; her hands fist in the sheets. Sophia rolls onto her back and pulls Chloe over her. They settle into a lazy sixty-nine, blonde hair spilling across brunette thighs. Sophia licks with steady purpose while Chloe experiments, tasting another woman for the first time. The room smells like oil and want. Chloe’s mouth grows bolder; her moans vibrate against Sophia’s cunt. Every slow lap pushes both girls closer, until their bodies lock tight, trembling, coming in soft, helpless waves against each other’s tongues.