Peeping Step-Tom

Gabriella wants to hit the clubs but Ruth blocks the door until the bedroom’s spotless. Gabriella rolls her eyes, stomps upstairs, Ruth tiptoes behind her two minutes later. She cracks the door, freezes. Gabriella peels off her tiny tank like it’s nothing, lets it drop onto the laundry pile, tits bouncing free under the dim light. Ruth’s mouth goes dry. She watches every move: the slow tug of the skirt, panties clinging wet between slim thighs, then gone. The girl bends deep for a sock, spreading just enough. Ruth’s breath catches, heat pooling fast. Another glimpse—ass high, pink slit flashing—and she leans in too far. The floorboard squeaks. Gabriella whips around, sees the open-mouthed stare. She smirks, steps forward, hands sliding up Ruth’s hips, and they crash together hard. Ruth bites her neck, grips her waist; Gabriella moans, hungry, shoving her back onto the bed. Fingers find wet heat fast. They rock frantic, Ruth riding her thigh while Gabriella sucks her nipples raw, bodies slapping until Ruth shakes apart, voice cracking, and drags Gabriella down for more.