Can I Use Your Phone?

Lola’s day was already on fire when her phone died on the road back to the cabin. One tree later and the shiny rental was wrapped around pine bark. She walked the last mile, heels in hand, and knocked on the first door she found. Abigail opened wearing nothing but an open silk robe and a sympathetic smile. She let Lola use the landline. The call took ten minutes. The moment Lola hung up, Abigail’s hands were at the zipper of her dress. “You’re shaking,” she said, sliding the black fabric off Lola’s shoulders. Big, bare breasts spilled free, nipples already stiff from the cold drive. Abigail cupped them, thumbs flicking slowly until Lola’s breath caught. They moved to the wide couch. Abigail peeled off her own robe and straddled Lola backward, lowering her smooth cunt onto Lola’s waiting mouth while her own lips parted Lola’s thighs. The sixty-nine settled into a slow, wet rhythm—Lola licking in long, flat strokes, Abigail sucking and fingering with two fingers curled just right. Every time Lola moaned, Abigail pressed down harder, riding the vibration. Sweat gathered between Lola’s heavy tits; Abigail licked it away between strokes. Fingers slipped deeper. Tongues worked faster. When Lola came she bit the soft inside of Abigail’s thigh; Abigail answered with a low, shaky cry and a fresh rush of slick across Lola’s tongue. They stayed locked like that, breathing hard, until the room went quiet again.