Road Queen #02

Back home after too long apart, they cut the bullshit and head straight upstairs. Bed’s still made for about ten seconds. Then they’re stripping each other like the clothes burned, already grabbing, sucking, biting whatever skin they can reach. Sun pours through the windows, keeping everything on display, but they’re past caring who might glance in. One drops to her knees first, tongue diving straight between slick folds, fingers hooked tight on an ass she hasn’t squeezed in months. The other moans loud enough to rattle the windows and pushes back for more, hips rolling greedy on that mouth. They keep trading places, switching off who’s getting tongue-fucked and who’s riding face, pausing only to swap spit and laugh about who’s wetter. By late afternoon the sheets are a mess of sweat and come, and neither of them plans to leave the room until the sun goes down.