Lez summer

Katalin and I trade that familiar summer heat for something sharper when she steps through my door in black lace that barely covers what it’s meant to hide. We don’t waste time on small talk. Fingers find zippers, breath quickens, and we’re tangled on the couch with her tongue sliding down the line of my stomach while I fist her hair. She tastes like sunscreen and sin. When the need climbs higher, I reach for the slim toy she likes best; it slides into her cunt in one smooth push. I work it slow at first, then faster, watching her hips chase every thrust. Before long she begs for more—demands it—so I ease another slick toy past the tight ring of her ass, filling her completely. The room echoes with wet sounds and the low, desperate noises she makes each time I drag both shafts in and out together. Sweat beads between her breasts; I lick it away, savoring the salt on my tongue. She shudders, muscles tightening around the double stretch, until her orgasm rips through her so hard her thighs quake against my shoulders. I don’t stop until she’s spent and smiling, lips swollen from kissing and biting, already plotting how we’ll spend the rest of the afternoon.