Girls In White #012 001

Cassandra arrived first. Her robe pooled at her feet, leaving nothing hidden. The girls in white looked up as she stepped closer, skin flushed, thighs slick. She didn’t ask. She pressed between another’s knees and parted her mouth over damp silk, tasting heat through thin fabric. Syren watched from the edge of the room, breath caught halfway. She hadn’t expected this bluntness. Yet watching Cassandra’s tongue move, deliberate and wet, lit something raw beneath her ribs. When Cassandra glanced up, meeting Syren’s stare without apology, the older woman’s pulse tripped. She felt her own nipples tighten under her slip. Syren moved without thinking. Her hand found the small of Cassandra’s back, guiding her deeper, then sliding lower to cup the curve of her ass. Cassandra answered with a soft, hungry moan against wet cloth. Syren lifted her to the table edge, spread her knees wider, and leaned in to kiss the inside of one trembling thigh. Fingers met. Mouths met. They took turns tasting each other’s gasp. Cassandra slipped two fingers inside Syren and curled them slow, finding the spot that made the woman’s hips lift off the wood. Syren answered with a bite, teeth sinking into flesh that tasted like warm cream and need. Sweat shone between breasts pressed together. Their rhythm grew sloppy, faster, ragged. When Syren came first her fingers clenched hard, drawing Cassandra over the same edge in two trembling seconds. They stayed like that, breathing sharp, sweat-slick bodies still joined. Outside the circle of lamplight, the other girls waited in silence, watching.