Backstage of Summer satisfaction

Summer fades, yet the heat still clings. She walks into her friend’s apartment, blonde hair catching the last light through half-drawn curtains. The redhead watches her from the couch, legs parted, nothing but a thin tank on. Two minutes later the blonde has her knees on the seat, tank pushed up, mouth open around a hard nipple. They trade spit until the redhead reaches down and slips a finger between the blonde’s cheeks. The girl shivers, spreads wider. She wants more. The redhead fetches a small bottle, slicks two fingers, works the tight ring until the blonde pushes back, taking every knuckle. Their breathing gets rough. The redhead slides behind her, strap-on already slick, and starts to press. Slow at first, then deeper, every thrust sending the blonde’s body forward until the couch creaks. She grips the cushions, mouth open, ass offered. The redhead holds her waist, driving in steady, deliberate strokes, watching the girl’s pale skin flush. When the blonde comes, it’s with a broken sound and a clenched hole around the toy. The redhead keeps moving until the blonde begs her to stop, then pulls out only to lean in and kiss the flushed skin she’s left glowing. Outside, the streetlights flicker on. Inside, the last warm days stretch a little longer.