Brunette Fever

These two brunettes skip the men. They have everything they need right here, fingers and tongues working in tight rhythm. They know exactly how to stoke the heat between them and they push each other past whatever they thought they wanted. One slips lower, tongue tracing wet circles until her partner’s hips begin to lift in that slow, helpless rock. The second answers with her own hand, sliding two fingers deep and stroking until soft cries break free. They move like they share one hunger, harder, wetter, greedy, until the air thickens with the sound of slick skin and gasping breath.