Initiating Betty

Yda nursed her pint at the bar, the same glass she ordered every night, though everyone knew her real reason for coming back. Betty Stylle. The young bartender caught her staring more than once but never said a word, until tonight. Betty leaned across the counter, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and whispered that she had waited long enough. Her fingers found Yda's wrist and squeezed. Yda's heart hammered when Betty pulled her into the back room, the door slamming shut behind them. Betty pressed her against the cool brick wall and kissed her deep, tongue sliding past parted lips. Hands slipped under Yda's shirt, palmed her breasts, pinched hard nipples until she gasped. Betty sank to her knees, yanked Yda's jeans down, spread her open and licked along the slick seam of her cunt, slow and deliberate. Two fingers pushed inside, curling as Betty sucked her clit, Yda’s hips jerking, breath catching with every stroke. The girl worked her faster, tongue relentless, until Yda came hard with Betty’s mouth locked between her thighs, thighs trembling, voice breaking on the bartender’s name.