Stitch and sew

Lexi undressed while Nadia held the dress. The Russian girl kneeled at her feet, pins clenched between perfect lips. Each adjustment required leaning in close enough that her breath warmed Lexi's inner thigh. The needle slipped. A quick sting followed by the soft press of Nadia's mouth. She meant it as apology—nothing more. Lexi exhaled, surprised by the heat that rushed beneath her skin. Nadia lingered. Her lips trailed higher, brushing the fine lace of Lexi's underwear. The second kiss was slower. The third left a faint mark. Lexi swayed forward, fingers threading through Nadias blond hair. The seamstress dropped the fabric altogether and stood, mouth finding Lexi's collarbone, then the swell of her breast. Fingers unclasped, slipped beneath straps, peeled delicate cotton away. Lexi arched as Nadias tongue circled her nipple, teeth grazing. She pulled the girl closer, hips grinding against a denim thigh. Fabric whispered to the floor as Nadia guided her onto the raised fitting stool, legs parting. Two fingers slid through slick folds, teasing, testing. Lexi gasped when they curled inside. Nadia knelt again, lips parting over the swollen clit, sucking steadily while her fingers kept their rhythm. Every moan from above urged her deeper until Lexi came with a shudder that nearly toppled the stool. They paused only long enough to climb onto the plush changing couch together, limbs tangling, sweat-slick skin gliding. Nadia shed her own clothes in a rush—plain black bra, jeans kicked aside. Lexi pushed her onto her back and settled between her thighs, returning the favor with tongue and fingers until Nadia trembled and cried out in her mother tongue. The dress lay forgotten. They sprawled, breaths slowing, bodies still humming, as late afternoon light painted gold across bare skin.