Girls in White

Those white dresses might fool the eye, but don't be fooled. Eveline and Adela wear them the way some women wear nothing at all. Pure on the surface, wet underneath. Their fingers find each other's zippers and the fabric falls open, pale fabric sliding off smoother skin. Nipples already hard before the air hits them. Adela drops to her knees first, mouth open, breath hot against the lace between Eveline's legs. She pulls the fabric aside, licks once—slow, filthy—then buries her tongue deeper. Eveline’s thighs tremble. Her dress hangs off one shoulder now, her cunt glistening and flushed. She grips Adela’s hair, hips rocking forward, fucking that pretty mouth while the remaining dress slips lower. They’re soaked. Both of them. No innocence left, just hunger and the sound of Adela swallowing every drop she earns.