Antonya's Valentina Day

She said it simply: let me be your Valentina. Then her mouth began its work. Lips, tongue, wet heat sliding over every inch of Antonya’s skin. Nothing untouched, nothing hurried. She kissed the hard peaks of nipples, the soft skin inside each thigh, the swell of hips where pale flesh flushed rose. Antonya laughed softly, fingers sliding through Valentina’s dark hair, then gave back each touch in kind. Her tongue traced the same paths, pulling slow moans from the older woman’s throat. The sheets warmed fast. Their breathing thickened. Kisses deepened. Hands grew slick. Pleasure built with the weight of two bodies moving together and finding their match.