We're Too Young To Feel This Old!!

The clock showed barely nine. Sabina blinked. "We're whipped already?" Chanell laughed but it stuck in her throat. Four women trading looks across wine-stained glasses, each realizing the wild years had traded for early nights and same playlists. Mocha broke the quiet first. "Remember that stupid beach house?" Keira's smirk followed. "We didn't sleep for two days." Breath caught. Chanell leaned forward like a dare. "Then why the fuck are we stopping?" The room tightened. Someone's knee pressed someone's thigh. A first kiss turned wet and hungry, followed fast by buttons popping, zippers hissing down. They sprawled naked across the wide sectional, tongues splitting wet folds, fingers driving deep. Keira rode Mocha's mouth while Chanell spread Sabina's legs and licked her until she shook. Moans bounced off walls, louder with each new angle. Hips rocked, thighs clamped, juices glistened on chins and cheeks. Someone grabbed the lube from a drawer like it never left. Positions blurred—tribbing pairs, sixty-nines, fingers pumping in rhythm—until the old, loud, filthy rhythm came back and every gasp proved they weren't dead after all.