Cougariffic: The Recluse

The rumors hit Gianna first – a house, a quiet woman named McKenzie Lee, half the street calling her a freak. Gianna pushes past the gossip, knocks once, waits. McKenzie cracks the door and stays half-hidden in the gloom. She doesn’t want company; her stare makes that clear. But Gianna isn’t the type to take a polite shutdown. She talks until the older woman softens enough to let her in. Dust and stacked boxes crowd the living room. McKenzie’s husband has been gone a year and she’s still boxed up in the past. Gianna offers her back and her sweat. Together they shove, lift, carry. Sweat slicks McKenzie’s throat; Gianna watches every bead slide down. Stories spill out. College kisses, secret motel rooms, nights when her body belonged to her. Something raw and wanting wakes under Gianna’s skin. McKenzie finally quits pretending she doesn’t need touch. She pulls Gianna onto the bare couch, climbs over her, presses slick pussies together in a slow grind that turns desperate. They rock and moan and chase the heat they both missed. Fingers sink deep, tongues replace them, slick mouths meet until thighs shake. When they come it’s loud, messy, years of neglect burned off in minutes. McKenzie lies sprawled, chest heaving, a new look on her face. Gianna’s already thinking about round two.