A house full of cuties

Eight girls swarm a one-bedroom apartment. Bodies packed close, kisses traded like breath. One pair disappears into the bathroom, the shower already running hot as fingers tug down shorts and mouths meet skin. The bed is next. Sheets twist beneath weight, a line of tongues tracing curves, long hair fisted in impatient hands. Someone slips to the kitchen floor, head between parted thighs while water hisses on the stove and a second girl leans over the counter, fingertips pressed to marble. Nothing stays hidden. Every open leg, every clenched fist, every wet sound carries across the rooms. They laugh, they moan, they lose whatever the hell they came in wearing.