Backstage with Antonya & Ariella

We couldn’t just sit there and watch. Heat coiled low in my belly as the first scene flickered on. Ariella’s hand slipped over mine, her black hair brushing my shoulder when she leaned in. She tasted like red wine and mischief. I kissed her back harder. Her tongue slid deep, her fingers already tugging at the clasp of my bra. She freed my breasts—full, heavy—and bent to suck one nipple, rolling it between her teeth until I gasped. I caught her dark hair in my fist and pulled her closer, grinding my thigh between hers. She was soaked through her panties. I ripped them aside and sank two fingers into her, quick and deep. She moaned around my breast, hips bucking. We tumbled onto the couch, legs tangled, mouths hungry, fucking like the women on screen—fast, loud, and dirty, exactly the way we wanted it.