Fortune cookie

Lara skipped cooking. No need, not when Cookie stood right there—her sweet, graceful friend with that sly oriental smile and hips like silk. Lara pulled her close and let her hands travel. Cookie tasted sweet and salty under her tongue. Heat built fast. She parted Cookie’s legs on the kitchen table and traced the folds with her fingers until Cookie gasped and pushed against her. The slick sound filled the quiet room. Lara licked and sucked her, took her time, then pressed two fingers inside and found that swollen spot that made Cookie cry out. She curled them, thrusting steady until Cookie gripped the table edge, shuddered hard, and came wet on her tongue. "Fortune cookie, my ass," Lara whispered, still tasting her.