We Have an Hour

Jenna raps the door, book in hand. Door cracks. Alexis waits in silk that barely covers anything. One beat. Door opens wide. They shove it closed and go for each other's mouths like they are starving. Alexis palms Jenna's ass, walks her backward down the hall, peeling cotton down Jenna's hips as they move. Alexis talks against her lips. 'Last time,' she says. Jenna bites the older woman's neck, answers with her hands inside those open silk folds, finds her already soaked. 'Last time,' Jenna echoes, voice low and trembling. Both know it's bullshit. Neither stops. Alexis pushes Jenna onto the couch, knees her open, eats like she is trying to drink the girl dry. Jenna fists gold strands, grinds, comes too fast, squirts, coughs out a broken laugh of shock. They trade places. Alexis hikes a thick thigh over Jenna's shoulder, holds her there while the girl fucks her with two fingers and a hot tongue. Alexis swears, thighs shaking, cream running down Jenna's wrist. Another switch. They get greedy, licking each other at the same time. Nothing gentle, just need and sweat and the slap of wet tongues. Jenna comes again first, thighs clamped around Alexis's head. Alexis follows her over the edge with a deep, rolling moan, her own wetness soaking the cushions. An hour gone in minutes. Cum on their chins. They're on the floor when the doorbell rings again, and they laugh like thieves caught mid-heist, lips pressed together while footsteps approach the front of the house.