Pillow fight

They laugh and shove each other around with pillows, but once the teasing stops the laughter changes pitch. Down on the sheets a mouth opens against a flushed fold and everything narrows to that slow, patient drag of tongue. Weight shifts, knees part, and each girl leans into the wet pressure that follows, hips lifting to meet the next stroke. No clowning now—just the steady rhythm, spit glossing skin, breath growing short, thighs shaking in time to every slick, deliberate lap.