The Mayans Were Wrong

Laura Brookes stares at the Mayan calendar and wonders what the fuck she's missed. Time's running out, so she books her first massage with Vanessa Veracruz. Vanessa takes one look at her spread thighs, at the tiny pink slit between them, and the temperature in the room doubles. Laura watches her strip, eyes wide, breath tight. Vanessa crawls over her, kisses her mouth with slow, wet swipes of tongue. Laura answers back hungry. Vanessa drifts down, sucks each nipple, then closes her lips around Laura's swollen clit. The moans start low. They roll into each other, faces buried, tongues sliding over slick, trembling skin, until both women shake and break, thighs locked, mouths full.