Of Red and Black

The redhead shoves two fingers inside her black-haired lover and feels her clench instantly. Different as day and night, red against black, pale against olive, yet neither cares. Mouths crash together, tongues slick and urgent. The redhead drops low, spreads the silkiest black curls, and drags her tongue from clit to dripping entrance in one slow, filthy lick. Her lover answers with a gasp, then pulls the redhead up by the nipples, rolling them hard between thumb and finger until they sting sweet. They trade places. Black hair fans across the sheet as the redhead straddles her face and grinds down, feeling that clever tongue work deep inside her. Fingers slide into the redhead from behind while the tongue stays busy, curling, pushing, relentless. They move like two live wires sparking together, every thrust of tongue or hand answered by a sharper moan, until the room reeks of sweat and sex and neither gives a damn who started first.