Playful Friends

Malia’s day was dragging, quiet, flat. Then Bethsabe walked in and the whole place woke up. She smells good, looks like sin, and she’s already pulling Malia closer by the hips. Clothes fall fast—top up, panties down—and Bethsabe drops to her knees without asking. Her tongue slides flat over Malia’s cunt, slow circles at first, then quick flicks that make Malia’s thighs jerk. Malia grabs the edge of the couch, breathing ragged. She reaches down, finds the slick heat between Bethsabe’s legs, and pushes two fingers inside. Bethsabe moans around Malia’s clit, her hips rolling forward so Malia’s fingers slide deeper. They move together, wet sounds mixing with soft gasps. Bethsabe comes first, clenching around Malia’s knuckles, thighs shaking. A moment later Malia spills too, hips bucking, slick dripping down Bethsabe’s chin. Neither pulls away. They stay there, foreheads touching, still catching breath, ready for whatever comes next.