The heat is on

The sun beats against the windows and the house feels like a slow oven. Three girls lie across the living room floor in matching lingerie, their bare skin glistening with the kind of heat that turns simple comfort into something sharper. A blonde leans back on her elbows, and the other two edge closer, fingers sliding under lace and satin. Mouths meet soft bellies, then lower. Their small hands work in unison, sliding panties aside, teasing until breathing turns ragged. One girl slides two fingers deep into the blonde while the second leans in to taste her. The rhythm picks up fast—tongues flicking, hips rolling, a shared gasp when the first climax rolls through the room. They trade places without missing a beat, legs tangled, mouths hungry, every movement slick and deliberate until the heat inside matches the scorch beyond the glass.