Lesbian House Hunters #01

This house might be a hot commodity but Chastity's bedroom burns hotter than any asking price. Brenda slips inside after her bath, skin flushed from the heat. She admires the thin cotton of Chastity's pajamas, then she takes her out of them, piece by piece, until nothing stands between them. Fingers slide where fabric once clung. Tongues trace curves that the cloth had only hinted at. Each gasp, each slow drag of a mouth across wet skin, sets the sheets aflame. No toys clutter the bed—just the wet press of bodies and the relentless work of eager hands and greedy mouths, making the mattress creak hotter than the rest of the house.