The Repo Woman

Tara stands there gutted while repo goons clear out every last piece of her life. Georgia Jones just leans against the doorframe, arms folded, not giving a damn. She strolls over, slips the silver chain Tara’s mom gave her right off Tara’s neck, and fastens it around her own like it’s already hers. Tara’s eyes go wide. She starts begging—says they can cut a deal, that Georgia can’t take every memory she has left. Georgia’s eyebrow lifts. What kind of deal? Tara doesn’t blink. She grabs Georgia’s tit, slides a hand straight between her legs, palm rubbing hard through denim, making the terms crystal-clear. Georgia’s mouth curls into a smirk, then crashes into Tara’s, tongues fighting, both girls already breathing like they’ve been sprinting. Georgia hikes a thigh up, spreads, and Tara drops to her knees to bury her face. Georgia’s moans fill the half-empty room. She grabs Tara’s hair, pulls her in tighter, then spins her around so tongues can trade places. Blonde and brunette bodies twist together on the bare floor, small tits bouncing as they grind, neither one slowing until the debt is paid in sweat and spit.