Bubble bath

Few things beat soaking in hot, sudsy water. Less still if a woman slides into the same tub behind her lover. Zafira lowered herself until Hannah was cradled between her open thighs, both of them slick and pink beneath the bubbles. Hannah let her head rest back against Zafira’s shoulder and spread her knees wider, urging those fingers closer. Zafira obliged without hurry—slow, thoughtful strokes over soft folds, each pass parting the lips and finding the firm swell of Hannah’s clit. The surface trembled with every small shift of hips. When Zafira slipped two fingers inside, Hannah’s sigh turned ragged, her nipples tightening above the waterline. Zafira stroked with steady rhythm, heel of her palm pressing each time, thumb keeping up a slick, circling pressure above. Bubbles rose and popped as Hannah’s breath quickened; small splashes soaked the rim. A twist of the wrist sent deeper, and Hannah arched, toes curling against porcelain. Zafira’s free hand cupped and squeezed a wet breast, rolling the hard nipple between finger and thumb until Hannah whimpered, thighs trembling. Pressure built. Hannah’s cunt clenched around the thrusting digits, rhythmic, unstoppable. The final squeeze drew a single choked cry, thighs locking around Zafira’s wrist. Ripples rocked the water as the aftershocks rolled through her. Zafira eased her touch, gentle now, until Hannah melted back, boneless and flushed. The bath still steamed around them, steam carrying the faint, heady scent of sex above rose oil.