Lez fun at home

One afternoon we sprawled out on the sheets together, her skin warm against mine. I felt eyes crawling over us and figured fuck it—let’s put on a show. I went down on her right there, eating that pussy like I wanted the neighbor watching to turn pink. I held her spread wide so every inch got attention while my tongue worked tight circles that had her grinding my face and swearing under her breath. No hiding. She grabbed the phone at one point—half a second she aimed at her own spread legs while I licked harder, her thighs shaking in my hands. I pushed two fingers in deep, pumped them slow and steady, curling up until her voice cracked into moans. That angle let any mystery fucker get a perfect view of her dripping around me. We kept it filthy long enough for real sweat on her stomach and my spit shining between her legs. Never got a name, never spotted anyone, but the heat was there—raw and thick—and we rode the rush like it was all caught on tape anyway. She loved every second.