Pool of Love

The sky sits flawless, a bowl of blue. Grass presses its cool green blades into her bare thighs. Sunlight keeps sliding across the pool, sharp and restless. Zara Jay leans back, nipples tight, water beading on heavy tits. Eve watches, red hair slicked down her spine, gaze locked on the dark thatch between Zara’s legs. Their mouths meet, slow and wet. Tongues twist, breath catches. Eve’s hand finds Zara’s breast, squeezes, rolls the stiff peak between her fingers. Zara answers with two fingers parting slick folds, stroking the swollen clit until Eve bucks, hips lifting out of the water. She climbs onto Zara, red curls brushing big, wet tits. They grind, mouths locked, moans swallowed. Zara spreads Eve open, tongue plunging deep, lapping each thrust of Eve’s hips. Eve returns the favor, sucking Zara’s nipple while her fingers slide inside. Water ripples. Every sound carries. They keep at it until thighs shake and their cries break across the empty garden, raw, unhurried, final.