Road Queen #04

AnnaBelle slips under the thin sheet with Elexis, their bodies already warm from the desert heat. “Is this all the room there is?” she whispers. Elexis props herself on an elbow, studying the younger woman. “Deauxma try anything?” she asks, voice low. AnnaBelle blushes. Elexis lets the pause stretch until it feels like a touch. Then she slides one bare leg over AnnaBelle’s thigh, pinning her gently to the mattress. “Because I like girls, too,” she murmurs, and her hand slips inside the silk tank, rolling a tightening nipple between curious fingers. She leans in close, breath warm on the shell of AnnaBelle’s ear, tracing the other nipple with her thumb until it stiffens like a second heartbeat. AnnaBelle’s lips part on a soft sound; Elexis catches it with her mouth, tasting, teasing, lips parting to let their tongues dance slow and slick. The camper creaks when Elexis swings a leg over and straddles her, riding the length of AnnaBelle’s bare thigh with deliberate pressure, slick heat dragging across flushed skin. A slow roll of hips—wet, rhythmic, certain—draws twin gasps from both of them. Her fingers trail lower, parting silky folds, slick with the evidence of wanting, and the pad of one fingertip circles the swollen clit without mercy until AnnaBelle arches, nails sinking into Elexis’s back. Sheets tangle. Skin glides. Elexis presses two fingers inside, curling them with perfect pressure as her thumb still works that tight nub. AnnaBelle’s hips jerk, chasing the rhythm, chasing release. Elexis bites the tendon at her neck, grinding down harder, their combined wetness making every stroke obscene and delicious. When AnnaBelle comes, the sound she makes is the pure drop of a ripe peach from branch to palm—sudden, tender, and utterly irresistible.