Black cats

Ginger and Kyra fuck. There is no mistaking their hunger. Ginger pushes Kyra onto her back and spreads her thighs, licking slow circles around her clit before sucking the bud between her lips. Kyra answers with a sharp moan, hips lifting. She tugs Ginger higher, rolls her under, and sinks two fingers into that wet heat, curling them until Ginger gasps and grabs fistfuls of sheet. Skin meets skin—sweat-slick breasts, bellies grinding, thighs locked. They kiss like they want to taste themselves on each other’s tongues. Fingers thrust, mouths suck, the room fills with wet sounds and desperate, grateful swearing. Black cats were never this lucky.