Tori visits Sandy - part 2.

Sandy feels the wind on her bare arms. Later she’ll feel something stronger. She steps into the harness like it’s second nature, smooth silicone snapping into place at her hips. Tori waits on the bed, knees spread, breathing shallow, already slick. Sandy moves without rush, sliding the tip against wet heat until the other woman gasps and rocks toward her. Then she pushes in. One steady thrust that takes her deep. Tori’s back arches, a raw sound leaving her throat. Sandy sets a deliberate pace—slow on the pull, firm on the drive—angling upward until she finds that spongy spot that makes Tori’s thighs tremble. Every stroke fills her, stretches her, grinds just enough to drag a moan free. The bedframe creaks. Sweat gathers at Sandy’s lower back. Tori’s fingers clutch the sheets, knuckles pale, eyes wide with surprise each time the strap hits that hidden place her boyfriend never reached. Sandy watches her fall apart, savoring the flex of muscle around hard silicone, the way Tori’s breath hitches then shatters into a desperate whimper. She leans close, lips against Tori’s ear. “Come,” she whispers. And Tori does—loud, sudden, whole body jerking as pleasure rolls through her in tight, helpless waves.