Minnie and Margery

Minnie and Margery fit together like they have always done it. First meeting slips straight into friendship, the way good bodies do when they recognise one another. Minnie presses her mouth to Margery’s cunt and tastes her straight away, tongue slow then fast, relentless. Margery spreads wider, giving everything back, sucking and flicking until Minnie groans against her thigh. Pleasure crests, spills, then climbs again; each woman rides the other through rolling peaks, hips jerking, fingers locked in damp hair. When mouths ease away, they slide onto their backs. Hands slip low and start again, slow circles over swollen clits, teasing, drawing circles into tight flicks. Eyes meet—pale and younger set against darker, older lines—and hold. They watch each breath, each tremor, watch thighs tremble and bellies tighten as the shared rhythm pushes them higher. Final, sharp cries break from both throats at the same time, bodies arching, juices slick on busy fingers. They keep stroking through the last pulses until nothing moves but their chests.