Tongue Me Hard

Alina stretched out on her bed like a cat in heat when Jade slipped in with that trouble-making grin, clutching a bowl of applesauce like she'd hit the lottery. Alina's eyes narrowed—she knew that look, knew her friend was about to drag her into some fresh brand of chaos. Sure enough, Jade hit her with the pitch: they needed a viral hit, and Alina's freak-show tongue was the ticket. Billions of views, easy. Alina rolled her eyes, shot back that she'd play if Jade split the haul fifty-fifty, then reached for the bowl. 'Lick it,' Jade snapped, already framing the shot on her phone. Alina dragged her tongue through the sauce—slow, filthy, letting every inch of pink muscle show. Jade licked her lips, hungry for more edge, then told her to drag that tongue over her own nipples. Alina laughed like the idea was insane, but her hands were already pushing her shirt up, tongue curling around the stiff peaks while Jade's screen ate it up. Then came the real ask—Jade wanted that tongue on her nipples too. Alina froze, blood hot. She wasn't gay, not even curious, but Jade kept pushing: views, fame, rent paid in full. Alina caved. She flicked Jade's tight nipple with the tip of her tongue, felt it pebble, tasted skin. Jade's voice dropped—go lower, get filthy, lick her cunt for the camera. Alina's stomach flipped, but the lure of the clip count won. She spread Jade open, buried that insane tongue inside her, licking deep and nasty while Jade moaned into the mic. Heat climbed; Alina wasn't supposed to like it, wasn't supposed to press harder, suck louder, but she did. Jade flipped her onto her back, buried her face between Alina's thighs, and the two of them ground, licked, tribbed like animals for three straight minutes of raw, wet footage. If that didn't break the internet, nothing would.