Back from holiday

Home from holiday, I ran into Jo. She looked me over, eyes sharp, then asked to see how the sun had kissed my skin. I lifted my skirt. Her fingers trailed upward, slow, sure, over the smooth flesh of my thigh. That touch told me we were done with small talk. She leaned in, breath warm, blonde hair brushing my arm. Her other hand found the edge of my lingerie. We kissed, tongues slow, tasting one another. I slid my hands beneath her top, found warm skin and the lace of her bra. Her nipple tightened against my palm. She tugged my panties aside and slipped two fingers between my folds, stroking me until I was wet and ready. I returned the favor, parting her legs, tasting the soft heat of her cunt with my tongue while she moaned my name. We moved to the bed still half-dressed, lace straps slipping off shoulders, lingerie twisted around our waists. Her fingers curled inside me as I sucked gently on her clit. Later she straddled my face and rocked, her juices slick on my lips, my own pleasure rising as she licked me in turn. No words needed—just the wet sound of mouths and fingers, the creak of the mattress, our bodies finding the rhythm we both wanted.