Forget About Your Boyfriend

Christie shows up with a brown paper bag and a wicked grin. Athena still feels raw from the breakup, so when the bag opens and two pairs of sheer tights tumble out she just stares. Christie decides they're not going to sit around feeling sorry for themselves. She peels that hot-pink dress straight over her head, unhooks the lace bra, shoves the panties down to her ankles. Naked, she steps into the red pair, working the nylon up her thighs until it stretches tight across her ass. Athena feels heat bloom low in her stomach watching every curve get trapped and highlighted. Her teeth find her lower lip. Christie's tits bounce gently as she tugs the waistband higher, nipples already hard. Athena loses the fight with herself. She shucks her dress, unhooks her own bra, kicks the damp panties aside, and wrestles into the second pair of tights. The nylon clings. Two glossy, covered bodies stand inches apart. Christie palms Athena's breast, circles the nipple through the fabric. Athena answers by sliding fingers between Christie's thighs, pressing fabric right against slick heat. Neither of them lasts long. Christie grabs scissors, snips the crotch of her own tights, then does the same to Athena's. The holes gape and both cunts are suddenly bare and flushed. They step close, rocking pelvis to pelvis, wet flesh grinding over wet flesh through the open slits. A sticky, needy rhythm takes over. Christie pushes Athena onto the couch, face down, ass up, then drops to her knees and licks broad and slow between those spread lips. Every time her tongue flicks Athena's clit, Athena forgets to think about the ex, the future, or anything but the warm, urgent pull of Christie's mouth and the nylon still stretched tight over everything else.