Breast Play

Giselle Palmer pins Lena Paul to the mattress. Their heavy tits spill together. Tongues flick. Teeth graze stiff nipples. Lena arches when Giselle's mouth closes hard around one, sucks slow and greedy like she's starving. They roll. It’s all sweat and slick skin and mouths too full of flesh to speak. Their legs tangle. Wet cunts meet, grind, spread heat. One lets out a filthy little grunt when a hipbone hits just right, then mashes harder. They trade places again, now faces at each other’s chests—Lena’s tongue tracing soft, heavy curves while Giselle shoves her face between Lena’s tits, muffled groans sending vibrations straight down her spine. Spit shines on flushed skin. The bed rocks. Fingers dig into hips. Deep, sloppy kisses break and start again, lips swollen, tongues fighting for more. Every roll and press pushes them higher until the last spasm locks them together, cunts pulsing, tits crushed warm and trembling, both of them coming like it’s the only thing they know how to do.