Joyful afternoon

That lazy afternoon began with nothing more than easy laughter between friends. Yet somewhere between the talking and the touches, hands wandered, skin met skin, and the three of us—Artemis, Vlaska, and I, Peggy—slid into one another. Tongues traced wet folds, fingers pressed deep, slick heat giving way to tighter, dirtier pleasure. Mouths sealed against puckered openings, the sting of saliva turning into languid rimming until each cunt glistened and every asshole had been probed open. We moved without hurry, tasting, stretching, coaxing shameless sighs from one another until the couch cushions were damp beneath us.