Visiting Anita

Anita Dark greets you at the door, blonde hair tousled, sun-warmed skin under a thin robe that barely stays closed. She smiles, tilts her head, and the robe slips off one shoulder. Inside, light spills over the couch where another woman waits, older, curvy, breasts heavy and bare. Anita turns back to you, steps close, and kisses the other woman first—slow, open-mouthed, tongues brushing. Their hands wander. Fingers find nipples, pinch, tug. Anita sinks to her knees, parts the older woman’s thighs, and leans in. She licks slowly, deliberately, the wet sounds filling the room. The older woman moans, reaches down, holds Anita’s face in place. Anita’s robe falls open. Her large breasts sway as she moves. The older woman pulls Anita up, turns her around, bends her over the arm of the couch. She spreads Anita’s cheeks, runs her tongue along the seam, then lower. Anita gasps, pushes back against the mouth working her. The older woman stands, lines up behind her, slides two fingers inside. She pumps slowly, curling them. Anita’s breath hitches. They switch again. Anita kneels in front of you now, eyes up, lips parted. She takes you in her mouth, sucks deep, one hand working the base. The older woman moves behind her, reaches around, fingers Anita’s clit while she sucks. Anita moans around you, hips rocking. The older woman adds a second finger, then a third, stretching her. Anita’s thighs shake. She pulls off, turns, climbs onto the couch on all fours. The older woman pushes in from behind, hips slapping. Anita reaches back, spreads herself wider. They move together, faster. Anita’s breasts swing beneath her. The older woman reaches around, rubs her clit in quick circles until Anita comes hard, voice breaking. She collapses forward. The older woman pulls out, strokes herself, comes across Anita’s lower back in thick streaks. Anita stays still, lets it drip. Then she turns, kisses the older woman again, slow, tasting both of them.