Web Exclusive - Scene 1714 Aryana Augustine Shyla Jennings

Aryana leaned against the cool glass of her new window and watched the city lights flicker. She turned when Shyla stepped out of the bathroom, towel hanging loose from her fingers. Aryana crossed the room, took the towel, and dropped it. Shyla’s skin still held the steam from her shower. Aryana’s fingertips traced the soft swell of Shyla’s breast, then trailed down the curve of her hip. “Stay with me tonight,” Aryana whispered. She pulled Shyla to the bed, climbed over her, and spread Shyla’s knees with her own. Aryana’s mouth found a nipple, sucking until it stiffened against her tongue. Her hand slid between Shyla’s thighs; two fingers parted her folds, slid through the slick heat. She pressed one finger inside, then another, slow, curling, searching for that spot that made Shyla gasp. Shyla’s hips lifted, seeking more. Aryana added the heel of her palm, rubbing tight circles while her fingers worked deeper. Shyla moaned, thighs trembling. Aryana kissed lower, lips skating across ribs, navel, then lower still until her breath washed warm over Shyla’s cunt. She licked once, slow and flat, then again, firmer, tasting her. When Aryana’s tongue flicked over her clit, Shyla cried out. The room filled with the wet sounds of tongue and fingers, the creak of the mattress, soft desperate gasps. Aryana stayed with it, steady, relentless, until Shyla arched hard and came, cunt pulsing around her fingers. She didn’t pull away until the last tremor faded. Then she crawled up, kissed Shyla slow and deep, letting her taste herself on Aryana’s tongue. Outside, the city kept moving, but for now the night belonged only to them.