Seventh heaven

I don’t mind the front door. I prefer the back. Two slick fingers press past the tight ring and work deeper, one knuckle, then the next, stretching me open while my other hand circles my clit. The rhythm builds. I spread wider, push harder, feeling every wet slide inside me. Blonde hair clings to damp skin. My heavy tits rise with each gasp. The brunette watches from the mirror, eyes half-lidded, hips rolling in time with my hands. She matches me stroke for stroke, both of us chasing the same slow climb to a shuddering, dripping release.