Lesbian Gratitude

Tammy stands in the doorway like a woman who already knows what's coming. Melissa watches her from the other side of the room, eyes hot, the kind of stare that strips before hands do. She brought her here for one reason: to show her how deep that gratitude runs. Melissa drops first. Tongue flat, hungry, she buries herself between Tammy's thighs and works her until those thick, heavy tits bounce with every shiver. Tammy grabs the back of her head and grinds down, riding the mouth that worships her until the first climax rips through her. Melissa doesn't let up. She drags another out of her, then another, until Tammy's legs shake and her breath catches like broken glass. The strapon comes out slick and ready. Tammy straps in, pushes Melissa onto her back, and slides the thick length inside her in one slow, deliberate thrust. They move hard—hips meeting, sweat mixing, skin slapping—tribbing tight until both women are gasping. Melissa climbs on top next, grinds down, then turns and sinks onto Tammy's face, smothering her with every roll of her hips while the toy keeps working deep inside her. They trade places, trade power, trading mouths and moans until the room smells like sex and the sheets are wrecked. No more art. Just bodies. Just thank you, over and over.