Something Holed, Something New

Cherry Kiss and Ophelia Kaan run into each other in the same hotel lobby again. Wedding planners scattered across the table between them. Same routine. Coffee cooling. Boring spreadsheets. Then one little comment about late husbands turns sharp. Both of them have been going without. Weeks now. Months. The moment hangs, heavy and obvious. Cherry's knee brushes Ophelia's under the table and stays. Heat rises fast. The elevator ride upstairs is dead quiet except for breathing that gets quicker with each floor. Door barely clicks shut and Ophelia shoves Cherry against it, yanking down her slacks. Cherry spins her around, fingers slick already, working two inside before Ophelia can blink. Short, rough thrusts that make her gasp. She doesn't hold back. Later she kneels, spreads Ophelia open, tongue hot against her rim, circling, pushing in until Ophelia's thighs shake. Ophelia takes control next, bends Cherry over the armchair, slides her strap deep, fucks her steady, one hand gripping her hair, the other slapping her ass raw every few strokes. Cherry keeps asking for more. Harder. Filthy words, half-broken moans. Ophelia pulls out slow just to tease the stretched hole, watching it clench, then drives back in until they both come shaking, sweat-slicked and grinning like they're stealing something they shouldn't. Same time next week, same hotel.