Love juices

Lepidoptera and Aletta Ocean lounge close on the couch, legs tangled, their voices low as they talk. Lepidoptera leans back, parts her thighs, and lets a slow stream of clear liquid pulse from her. Aletta watches without shame, then spreads her own lips to answer the same way, their mingled wetness soaking the cushion beneath them. They take turns, pressing fingers deep until each fresh spurt splashes hot across the other's skin, thighs glistening, breath coming in short gasps. The two keep the rhythm easy, almost lazy, enjoying every drop that leaves them.