Backstage with Isis and Anita

Isis and Anita stretched out on silk sheets, best friends since high school, naked and idle. They always shared everything. Best friends, same lipstick shades, same lovers sometimes. Now their bodies pressed together because nothing else interesting was happening. Anita's mouth found Isis's nipple first, warm tongue circling until it stood hard. Isis moaned softly and pushed her fingers between Anita's spread thighs, sliding through slick heat. They knew exactly how the other liked it. Isis worked two fingers inside while Anita sucked harder, teeth grazing skin just right. Anita rocked against those fingers, greedy, wet sounds filling the quiet room. They switched positions without speaking. Anita on her back now, legs open wide, Isis's tongue replacing fingers, tasting her deeply. Isis's ass lifted in the air as she licked, exposed and ready. Anita reached down, grabbed a handful of hair, pulled Isis closer until her nose pressed against wet skin. Isis moaned into the kiss, tongue flicking faster. Their breathing got heavier. Sweat collected in the small of Isis's back. Anita came first, thighs shaking around Isis's head, but she didn't stop licking until Anita pulled her up by the chin for a kiss, tasting herself on Isis's tongue. Then Isis turned, straddled Anita's face, lowered herself onto her waiting mouth. They moved together, both women knowing the rhythm by heart, tongues working until they came again, bodies trembling against each other in practiced unison.