Women Seeking Women #113

She stepped off the bus like a live wire in heels. Every curve demanded attention. April ran straight to the men's restroom, shoved the door open, and locked it behind her. The painted room was dingy, tiles cold. Sanchez spotted her, dark lashes lowered, but need laced his stare. Apron on. Heat already on the draw. She pressed in. Quick kiss, a tongue flick, his mouth lush on hers. He pushed her against the stall wall, drove himself deep. She gasped, clutched the thin partition. Everything quickened. Clothed fucking, quick, fierce, better because it shouldn't happen, not there. Not now. He growled her name like it cost him. Sparks skated down her spine. She needed it raw. So did he. He came first, groaning, driving hard, then she did, body clutching, her finish sharp and breathless against his belly. Raw finish. Pulses echoing. Breath ragged. She peeled away fast, hips still burning, panties wet. The lock clicked and day snapped back. No one knew, not yet, but the heat lingered, beating low between her thighs like a secret caught fire.