Home is where the Heart is

The apartment door clicks shut and they waste no time. What starts soft ends up loud: open-mouth kisses at first, then one girl slaps the other hard across her cheeks. The sting lights up the skin and makes both of them wetter. Before long the red handprints travel lower, each smack on bare ass cheek leaving a perfect outline. She bends her friend over the arm of the sofa and grabs the thick silicone shaft from the drawer. The tip presses between those swollen folds, pushes through, and sinks until every inch disappears with a wet suck. A wand clicks on and buzzes tight against the clit while the other end keeps pumping. A second vibrator slips beneath so two heads press against twin clits, buzzing hard. Nipples get pinched, pulled, licked until they shine. The leather couch creaks with every thrust. Their legs shake, their moans bounce off bare walls. When the last orgasm rips through, they stay draped over the cushions—marked, sore, and already grinning at the spots that still smell like lube and skin.