In the gym

I hit the gym and the blonde catches my eye right away. Tight sports bra, firm ass hugged by spandex, thighs that flex with every squat. I pretend to stretch, then walk over. We talk reps and sets, but I keep glancing at her lips. She smiles, steps closer, and soon her hand rests on my lower back. The brunette shows up, towel around her neck, watching us both. Next thing I know the blonde is kissing me—slow, wet, tongues sliding—while the brunette slides her fingers under my tank top. Their hands roam. They strip me there on the mat. The blonde kneels first, tongue teasing my clit in quick, sure strokes. The brunette stands behind me, cupping my tits, pinching my nipples until I moan into her mouth. They switch places. One lies back and pulls me on top; I grind against her thigh while the other spreads my cheeks and licks me from behind. Sweat, heavy breathing, the soft slap of skin on skin. I ride the blonde’s face until my legs shake, then she flips me onto all fours. The brunette fingers me hard, knuckles deep, until I come with a sharp cry. We collapse together, skin slick, still touching. They kiss me between them, slow and lazy now, sharing the taste.