The agency

Colette’s office smelled like expensive leather and warm perfume. Alison stepped in, fresh off the street in a tight dress that left nothing to the imagination. The agent’s eyes slid over her like hands, slow and sure. Conversation started about portfolios, but the sentences grew shorter, the silences thicker. Colette crossed her legs; the slit in her skirt climbed higher. One slow word after another pulled Alison closer until their knees touched beneath the desk. The model tasted mint and want when Colette kissed her, tongue pressing firm, lips opening wider. Colette’s hand slipped under the hem, fingertips gliding up smooth thigh to the heat between Alison’s legs. A soft moan escaped, swallowed immediately by another kiss. Colette eased the dress down, exposing bare breasts that she cupped and teased, rolling stiff nipples between skilled fingers. Alison’s own hands found Colette’s blouse, popping buttons, revealing lace and skin. They moved together to the long couch, clothes falling piece by piece. Colette spread Alison open, tongue licking slow circles around her clit before sucking it between her lips, fingers sliding deep inside, curling just right. Alison arched, nails gripping the cushions, hips rolling against that hungry mouth. Then they switched. Colette knelt above Alison’s face, lowering herself so the new girl could taste her too, both of them moaning into each other’s wet heat. Bodies slick, breath ragged, they moved faster, tongues flicking, fingers thrusting until their cries tangled and broke together. The couch creaked beneath them as they came, shuddering, wet, satisfied.