A thing for dark hair

She steps in, black hair falling over bare shoulders, full tits catching the light. The other watches, already wet. They move close. Hands slide over curves. One cups a heavy breast, thumbs a stiff nipple. Lips part. Tongues meet. The pace is slow and greedy at once. Fingers trace down bellies, then lower. One slips between thighs, strokes wet folds, finds the swollen clit and circles it. The other gasps, spreads wider. They taste each other in turn—hot mouths on slick skin, tongues working deep. When the first orgasm hits, the moans stay low and rough. A toy appears. Slim, smooth, slicked and pressed against a tight hole. Gentle pressure, then it slides in. The girl on her back arches, fingers gripping the sheets. Her lover works the toy in slow strokes while sucking on her clit. Every thrust draws another sound from her throat. They trade places. The second girl gets the same treatment: tongue on her pussy, the toy eased into her ass, hips rocking to meet each push. Sweat shines on their skin. Their breasts brush together when they kiss again, hard nipples dragging over soft flesh. They finish pressed close, one on top, mouths locked, the toy still buried as they grind through the last, sharp pulses. Dark hair tangles across flushed faces. Quiet breathing fills the room.