Sexy music

She kills the song mid-chorus, eyes darker than the beat. Her two friends are already on the bed—one golden-blonde, one dark as espresso—both waiting, thighs parted, breasts bare. No words, just breath and the soft shuffle of sheets. The blonde leans back, nipples tight, while the brunette runs her fingers down the length of her own thigh, slow and sure. The first girl joins them, peeling off what’s left of her clothes, skin catching the low light. Hands meet skin. The brunette’s tongue finds a nipple; the blonde arches and sighs. Then the new girl dips between them, tasting, teasing, her mouth working with steady hunger. Fingers slip inside—wet heat, soft walls, the quiet, wet sounds of mouths and cunts filling the room. They move together, three bodies tangled, every gasp feeding the next until pleasure crests, breaks, and starts again.