Sweet Healing

After tennis both girls are sticky and thirsty, so they squeeze up a couple glasses of fresh orange juice. Tess rolls her shoulder, grimacing, and Iwia grins—already thinking ahead. In the living room Iwia tugs Tess’s top off, slathers heat rub across her shoulders, and starts kneading. The deeper she digs, the quieter Tess’s pain becomes and the louder her breathing gets. When Iwia nips the soft skin just below Tess’s ear, Tess spins around, tits out, and yanks Iwia’s top up so she can mouth the stiff nipple right through the thin fabric. The top hits the floor. Tess sucks harder, then falls back with Iwia on top of her, tongues wrestling while shorts and panties disappear. Iwia’s palm presses hard over Tess’s bright yellow crotch, then she peels the soaked fabric away and drops between her legs. Her tongue is fast and greedy, lapping at the smooth, shaved pussy until Tess moans loud enough to echo. Two strong fingers slide in from behind and start pumping; the stretch flips the last flicker of pain into pure heat. Tess’s breath catches, breaks, and she comes hard, thighs shaking. She pulls Iwia up for sloppy kisses, then pushes her onto her back. Tess’s small, firm tits brush Iwia’s as she wriggles down, spreads Iwia’s thighs, and buries mouth and fingers at once in the slick, shaved cunt. Iwia’s hips jerk. Tess slaps her ass, mutters for her to get on her knees, then drives two fingers straight back in—deeper, rougher—while her tongue circles the tight little hole above. Iwia moans long and loud, fingers gripping the couch, until the orgasm rips through her and leaves her trembling, barely able to stay upright. They end up tangled together, soft kisses, lazy grins, sweat cooling on flushed skin.