On The Floor and Soaking Wet

They hit the floor hard. Dharma's mouth finds Violet first, tongue working fast between those thick lips while Violet spreads wide. Fingers push in next—two, then three—wet sounds filling the room. Violet's hips lift off the ground, chasing it. She flips Dharma over, pins her shoulders, and grinds down hard. Their mouths trade places. Back and forth. Wet skin slapping wet skin. They don't stop until both are shaking, faces slick, breathing like they ran through fire.