Ava's Guest

Netta's black hair spills across Ava's pillows like spilled ink. Ava sits at the foot of the bed, knees apart, watching Netta crawl toward her on all fours. The younger girl stops just short of touching and drags two fingers between her own thighs, coating them in the wet that already gleams there. She lifts those fingers to Ava's lips, rubs the slick along her bottom lip, leaves the taste of herself on her tongue. Ava grabs Netta's wrist, sucks the fingers clean, then pulls her down until they're chest to chest. Their mouths meet once, hard, and then Ava swings a leg over, flips their positions, spreads Netta open with her palms. She lowers her face and licks one slow stripe from the base of Netta's cunt to the swollen clit, tongue flat, savoring every fold. Netta's hips jerk. Ava doesn't let up—she circles, flicks, presses the tip of her tongue until Netta fists the sheets and starts leaking onto Ava's chin. Without lifting her head, Ava slips two fingers inside Netta, curves them upward, fucks her at the same pace her tongue keeps. The wet sounds rise, louder than Netta's breath. Ava adds a third finger, stretches her, feels the walls clench and flutter. She pulls her mouth away only long enough to say, “Come,” then seals her lips back around Netta's clit and sucks. Netta breaks with a cry that scrapes the back of her throat, thighs clamping around Ava's head. Ava drinks the flood, tongue never still, milking every last pulse until Netta's body goes loose. Then she crawls up, kisses Netta with the taste still thick on her tongue, and starts again, lower this time, because neither of them plans to leave this room untouched.