Breakfast With My Friend - Part 1

Brigitte and Jenny throw a loud Sunday brunch for Lola and Pepper, plates clattering, coffee steaming. Stories fly around the table. When Brigitte drops the truth—how she ran into her ex and planted one on her lips right there on the sidewalk—everybody cracks up. Glasses knock. Chairs slide back. The hour passes easy. Door clicks shut. The second the last guest is gone, Jenny’s smile cracks. Her arms cross tight. Jealousy flares hot. Brigitte catches it quick, steps close. No apologies at first, just lips on Jenny’s neck, fingers sliding under that thin shirt. They backpedal to the couch, clothes dropping fast. Jenny stays pissed—until Brigitte spreads her out on the cushions, tongue diving between her thighs with raw focus. Fingers curl inside, hitting the spot Jenny always tries to hide. Jenny’s breath gets choppy, hips lift, nails dig. Tension snaps. One sharp, violent climax rips through her. Then Jenny’s eyes glaze, chest heaves, anger done. Everything else washes out with sweat and that slick sound of her slick folds still throbbing under Brigitte’s mouth.