The Moment of Truth

Sarah's patience finally snaps. Zoe stands there in the office, eyes darting. She blurts it out. She wants her boss, has wanted her all along. Sarah freezes, then laughs once, low and sharp. Her palm cups Zoe's face, thumb dragging across the lower lip. The kiss lands hard. Clothing hits the floor fast. Zoe drops first, sucking one heavy breast, then the other, tongue flicking stiff nipples. Her mouth travels lower, hot breath on soaked folds. She parts Sarah's thighs and latches on, flattening her tongue against the swollen clit, working steady and firm until Sarah's hips jerk. They switch. Sarah pins the younger woman on the desk and returns the favor, licking through slick, swollen lips, fingers holding Zoe wide while her mouth finds the same rhythm. When their need peaks they twist into sixty-nine, mouths locked, tongues quick and desperate. Both come hard, thighs trembling, cries muffled against wet skin.