Don't ask

She settles into the chair and watches. The blonde moves first, slipping her hand beneath the brunette’s thin shirt, fingers brushing skin that’s already warm. They kiss hard, tongues pushing deep, and the blonde pulls away only to drag her mouth down the brunette’s neck, biting lightly at the collarbone. Fabric comes off in quick, impatient motions. The brunette’s breasts spill free and the blonde latches on, sucking one nipple while her fingers slide between the brunette’s legs, finding her slick and open. She pumps two fingers inside, thumb circling the swollen clit, and the brunette answers with a broken moan that fills the quiet room. She pushes the blonde onto her back, yanks her panties aside, and buries her face between smooth thighs, licking long, slow stripes that make the blonde’s hips buck. Their skin grows shiny with spit and wetness. The blonde’s fingers knot in dark hair, urging the tongue deeper, while the brunette reaches down and rubs her own clit in quick circles. They shift again, legs scissoring, cunts pressed tight. The rhythm builds until both girls are grinding, gasping, bodies shaking. The blonde comes first, a sharp cry tearing out of her as her thighs clamp around the brunette’s hips. The brunette follows seconds later, back arched, mouth open in a silent shout. They stay locked together, breathing hard, fingers still drifting lazily over flushed skin, eyes half-lidded and aimed at the chair where you sit watching.