Deep Lesbian Lessons

They’re soaked. Both of them. Water dripping off skin that’s already hot. Little Puck grips the tile, Scarlett on her knees, tongue working deep, sloppy, no hesitation. Fingers curl into wet hair, hips jerk forward, every stroke draws a sharp gasp that cracks the quiet. No teasing. Just raw hunger, skin slapping against skin, legs trembling while tongues push and swirl. They don’t hold back, bodies sliding on the slick floor, mouths glued to each other until their moans turn into half-broken curses. It’s fast, filthy, and neither of them is planning to slow down.