Her First Time with a Woman
# The Booking Paige’s fingers trembled over the phone screen, hotel lamplight tracing the bikini tan lines above her lace chemise. The Blair ad glowed: a woman with wavy brown hair and a silver streak, confident, mid-forties. Like her. A so
Chapter 1
Paige’s fingers trembled over the phone screen, hotel lamplight tracing the bikini tan lines above her lace chemise. The Blair ad glowed: a woman with wavy brown hair and a silver streak, confident, mid-forties. Like her. A soccer mom type—adventurous. Paige bit her lip, a shy, playful quiver low in her belly. First time.
She called.
“Tell me what you want, hon. Be specific,” the agency woman purred.
“A woman. Someone experienced. I’ve never... it’s my first time with a woman. I need her to guide me.” Paige paused, voice dropping. “I want her to talk dirty. Tell me what she’s going to do.”
A chuckle. “Forty minutes.”
Paige hung up, smoothing her brown hair, the elegant lingerie a whisper against her skin. Her runner’s legs crossed, uncrossed.
The knock came sharp.
The woman in the doorway was exactly the photo: blue eyes scanning Paige slowly, her full breasts pressing a black blouse. Her wavy hair, streaked with grey, fell over a slim, curvy frame. She smiled, dominant, sure.
“Nervous?” Her voice was low silk.
Paige stepped back, and the Blair entered, the scent of spice trailing. She stood in the center of the hotel room, eyes fixed on Paige.
“Prettier than you described. But trembling. That’s okay.” She didn’t touch. “First time with a woman. I know. I’m going to make it unforgettable. But first—words. I need you wet before I lay a finger on you.”
She moved closer, heat radiating but no contact. Her gaze dropped to Paige’s chest. “Those big, beautiful tits... I’ll worship them later. For now, picture my mouth on you. Kissing down your belly, finding your shaved pussy already slick. And maybe I’ll tease those pretty nipples until you beg for more.” Her voice dropped to a coarse whisper. “Then I’m going to taste you so deep you’ll forget your name.”
Paige’s breath shuddered. The words tugged, molten.
“And if you get impatient? If you try to rush me?” She tilted her head. “I might bend you over my knee and spank that lovely ass red. Would you like that?”
A small, throaty sound escaped Paige. She nodded.
“Good. Now, undress for me. Slowly. I want to see every inch of those tan lines, those runner’s thighs quiver. But no touching me. Not yet. I’m in charge.”
She stepped back, her stare a palpable weight. The silence hummed as Paige’s fingers found the chemise strap. The Blair’s eyes darkened, fixated, as the lace slipped down one shoulder, then the other, exposing pale skin and the heavy swell of her breasts. The only sound was Paige’s uneven breath, the whisper of fabric.
“That’s it. Show me everything.”
Chapter 2
Paige’s chemise pooled at her feet, the air cool against her flushed skin. She turned slowly, a full rotation as the Blair’s gaze traced every inch—the runner’s muscles flexing, the stark line of her bikini tan, the heavy sway of her breasts. When Paige faced her again, the Blair was already unbuttoning her blouse, then sliding the black fabric from her shoulders, letting it fall without ceremony. Her skirt followed, and then she stood naked, hands on her hips, proud and unashamed. Paige’s eyes went straight to the smooth, bare mound between the Blair’s thighs. No hair, just soft, inviting skin—a bold, bald pussy that made Paige’s mouth go dry.
The Blair stepped closer until their bodies were mere inches apart. “Now,” she said, voice a low command, “put your hand on your pussy. I want to watch you touch yourself. I’ve never seen a woman so nervous and so wet at the same time. And I’m touching mine too—see?” Her fingers drifted down, parting her own slick folds, the wet sound filling the silence. Paige’s heart hammered. She’d never done this, not even with her husband. But the command was absolute. Slowly, her right hand uncurled and cupped her shaved mound, fingertips dipping into the heat. Her whole body trembled at the forbidden thrill of being watched.
The Blair’s blue eyes locked onto Paige’s hand as she began a slow, circular rhythm on her own clit. “That’s it. Don’t stop. Tell me what’s going through your head right now. Every dirty thought.” Her hips rocked slightly, her breath deepening.
Paige’s fingers slid through her own wetness, her legs threatening to buckle. “I… I’m thinking about how wrong this feels,” she whispered, voice ragged. “How I never let anyone see this. And how much I want you to take over. I’m thinking about your mouth on me—right where my hand is.” Her confession spilled out, raw and honest, and the Blair’s smile widened.
The two women stood face to face, their hands moving in unison, the scent of arousal thickening the air. The Blair’s fingers never faltered as she watched Paige’s shy exploration, both of them teetering on the edge of something deeper, the room humming with unspent need.
Chapter 3
Riley’s hand stilled between her thighs, slick fingers glistening as she reached out and gently cupped Paige’s wrist. The younger woman’s breath hitched, her own hand freezing. “I’m Riley,” the Blair said, her voice a rumble of pure satisfaction. She held Paige’s eyes, letting the name settle like a promise. “And I think we’ve teased ourselves enough. Are you ready to begin for real, Paige? Where do you want me to start?”
Paige’s throat worked, her chest heaving. “Kiss me,” she whispered, the words barely a sound. “I want your mouth first. Then…” she let her gaze drop deliberately to Riley’s wet fingers, then back up, “I want to feel it everywhere I’ve never been touched.”
Riley didn’t answer with words. She closed the distance, a hand sliding into Paige’s hair, tipping her face up. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a soft exploration that quickly deepened—Riley’s tongue sliding past parted lips, tasting, claiming. Paige moaned into her mouth, hands flying to the Blair’s hips, pulling their naked bodies flush. The slick heat of their bellies met, the damp curls of their mounds pressing together, and a shudder ran through both of them.
They stumbled toward the bed, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths. Riley guided Paige backward onto the cool sheets, climbing over her without breaking the kiss. When she finally pulled away, she looked down at the beautiful mess of a woman beneath her—cheeks flushed, nipples drawn tight, the bikini lines stark against the hotel lamplight. “You want me to taste you,” Riley stated, not a question. She dragged a single finger through Paige’s sopping cleft, then brought it to her own lips, sucking it clean. “God, you’re sweet. But I’m not in a hurry.”
She lowered her mouth to Paige’s breast, circling the areola with a slow, wet tongue before drawing the aching peak between her lips. Paige arched, a cry breaking free as Riley’s teeth grazed the sensitive tip. The Blair worked one nipple, then the other, while her hand drifted down to trace lazy patterns on the inside of Paige’s trembling thighs, never quite touching where she needed it most.
When Paige was writhing, fingers twisting in the sheets, Riley finally kissed a path down her belly, over the soft rise of her mound, and settled between those gorgeous runner’s legs. Her breath fanned over Paige’s shaved pussy, warm and deliberate, but her lips stayed a whisper away. “You’re going to feel this deep,” Riley murmured, her words a hot caress against the slick, swollen flesh. The room vibrated with Paige’s ragged anticipation, every muscle coiled, waiting for the first true taste of another woman’s mouth.
Chapter 4
Riley’s lips finally met the slick heat of Paige’s pussy, and the sound that tore from the younger woman’s throat was raw, broken, utterly shameless. Her hips bucked off the mattress, but Riley’s hands clamped down on her thighs, pinning her open, holding her still for the slow, deliberate stroke of her tongue.
“Oh fuck—oh God—” Paige’s fingers flew to Riley’s hair, not pushing, just gripping, anchoring herself as the Blair licked a long, flat path from her entrance to her clit. The taste exploded on Riley’s tongue—sweet, salty, pure need—and she groaned into the wet heat, the vibration shooting straight through Paige’s core.
“You taste like a woman who’s been starving for this,” Riley murmured against her, lips brushing the swollen bud. “Your husband ever eat you like this? Slow? Like he’s got nowhere else to be?”
Paige shook her head frantically, chest heaving, breasts glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. “No—never—not like this—”
“Pity.” Riley’s tongue circled her clit once, twice, feather-light, before she sucked it between her lips with sudden, breathtaking pressure. Paige’s back arched off the bed, a high keening wail escaping as the suction pulled at her most sensitive nerve endings. Her thighs trembled violently against Riley’s grip, the runner’s muscles flexing, fighting the urge to clamp shut.
Riley released her with a wet pop, trailing two fingers through the dripping folds, circling her entrance without pressing in. “You want my fingers inside you while I suck that pretty clit? Want me to fill that tight little cunt while my tongue works you over?”
“Yes—please—Riley, please—” The name fell from Paige’s lips like a prayer, her blue eyes glazed, unfocused, lost in the relentless build of pressure coiling low in her belly.
“Beg for it,” Riley whispered, her breath hot against Paige’s clit. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
Paige swallowed hard, her voice cracking with desperation. “I want your fingers inside me—deep—curling up—while you suck my clit. I want you to make me feel everything I’ve been missing. I want to come on your face—on your fingers—please, Riley, I need it so bad I can’t think straight.”
Riley’s smile was pure sin. “That’s my good girl.” She slid two fingers inside Paige’s slick heat in one smooth motion, curling them forward against the rough patch of nerves hidden within, and lowered her mouth back to the throbbing clit. Paige’s hips bucked harder, riding Riley’s hand, grinding against her face as the dual sensations collided—gentle suction above, relentless pressure within.
The Blair matched her rhythm to Paige’s desperate movements, fingers pumping slow and deep, tongue flicking fast and light, building her higher and higher toward a precipice she could feel rushing toward her like a freight train. Her inner walls fluttered around Riley’s fingers, clenching rhythmically, and her breath came in staccato gasps that filled the room with the sound of a woman completely surrendered.
“That’s it,” Riley urged against her clit, the vibration of her words pushing Paige even closer. “Feel how deep I am inside you. Feel my tongue.” She curled her fingers with expert precision, pressing hard against the sweet spot, and Paige’s entire body locked up, every muscle strung tight, hanging suspended on the very edge of something enormous.
The pressure built and built, unbearable and exquisite, until all Paige could do was sob Riley’s name and grind harder against the mouth and fingers that refused to let her fall.
Chapter 5
Riley’s fingers curled one last time, and Paige broke.
She didn’t just come—she unraveled, hips bucking off the mattress as she ground her pussy into Riley’s face with primal desperation. “Oh fuck—Riley—I’m—” The warning dissolved into a shattered cry as the first orgasm ripped through her, clit pulsing against Riley’s tongue while her inner walls clamped hard around those relentless fingers.
Riley groaned into her, not letting up, tongue flattening against the swollen bud as Paige rode her face through wave after wave. The second climax hit before the first fully ebbed, body seizing rigid, thighs clamping around Riley’s head as she jerked and shuddered uncontrollably.
“That’s it—fuck my face—let me feel it,” Riley rasped between licks, voice muffled against drenched flesh. Her free hand gripped Paige’s asscheek, urging the frantic rhythm faster.
The pressure detonated deep in Paige’s core as the third orgasm crested—and this time liquid heat gushed from her in ragged pulses, soaking Riley’s chin and neck in a hot spray that splattered across both their bellies. Paige’s back bowed off the bed in a scream of wordless ecstasy while she squirted directly onto her lover’s waiting mouth—something she’d never done before, never even knew she *could* do, something that felt like being split open and remade at once.
Tremors wracked her frame long after the torrent stopped fading to weaker rhythmic pulses against Riley’s still-doting tongue. She collapsed sideways onto damp sheets gasping raggedly while Riley slid up beside her looking thoroughly ravished—hair soaked sweat-streaked face glistening—and pressed soft kisses along Paige’s quivering shoulder.
“Multiple times,” Riley whispered hoarse with pleased disbelief into her ear companionably shakily spooning closer despite their shared wetness “and you squirted all over me Pretty girl.”
Chapter 6
Riley pulled Paige against her, arms wrapping tight around trembling shoulders. Their sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, hearts hammering in tangled rhythm. "You did so good for me," Riley murmured into her hair. "Such a good girl."
Paige nuzzled into the crook of Riley's neck, breath still ragged. "I've never... that was..."
"I know, baby." Riley kissed her forehead, then shifted, rolling Paige onto her back. "But I'm not done with you yet."
She swung a leg over Paige's hip, positioning herself until their pussies aligned—Riley's soaked folds pressing flush against Paige's still-quivering ones. The contact drew a sharp gasp from them both.
Riley began to grind, slow circles that dragged slick heat against slick heat. "Look at you," she breathed, voice dropping into something darker. "A married little housewife, letting a stranger fuck her brains out in a hotel room."
Paige whimpered as Riley ground harder.
"You're my little slut now, aren't you?" Riley's hips rolled with punishing precision. "Say it."
"I'm your—oh god—I'm your slut," Paige gasped.
"That's right." Riley braced her hands on Paige's thighs and rode her faster, clits catching on each downstroke. "Dripping all over my pussy like a desperate whore. Your husband ever see you like this? Ever make you this wet?"
"Never," Paige moaned, hips beginning to buck upward to meet each grind as strength returned to her limbs.
"No," Riley snarled through clenched teeth, pace growing frantic. "Only me. You're fucking mine tonight."
She slammed down hard, rutting against Paige with animal desperation as the filthy words pushed her toward the edge. Her rhythm shattered—three brutal thrusts—then she threw her head back with a raw cry.
Hot release flooded between them as Riley came in pulsing waves against Paige's pussy, coating them both in shared wet heat while she shuddered through every last spasm before collapsing forward onto shaking elbows above her spent lover.
Chapter 7
For long moments, neither woman spoke. Their breathing gradually slowed, chests rising and falling in sync as the wet heat between their thighs cooled against the rumpled sheets. Riley was the first to move, shifting her weight off Paige's body and settling beside her on the pillows.
Paige turned toward her, blue eyes still glassy with wonder. Riley reached out, fingertips tracing the delicate line of Paige's collarbone, then down between her breasts. "You're trembling again," she murmured.
"Good trembling," Paige whispered.
Riley leaned in, capturing her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. Their tongues met lazily now—exploring rather than devouring. Paige's hands finally gained permission to roam, sliding over Riley's shoulders, down the graceful curve of her spine, mapping the dip of her waist.
"You're so soft," Paige breathed against her lips.
Riley smiled into the kiss, cupping Paige's full breast and thumbing the nipple until it stiffened. "So are you. Everywhere." Her other hand slid lower, fingers trailing through the slick remains of their shared release on Paige's inner thigh. "Look at this mess we made."
Paige blushed but didn't look away. Riley's fingers continued their gentle exploration, tracing the outline of Paige's still-sensitive folds without pressing in.
"Tell me something," Riley said, her dominant edge softening into genuine curiosity. She propped herself on one elbow, studying Paige's face while her hand continued its idle caresses. "After all of this—" she gestured vaguely at the tangled sheets, their naked bodies, the hotel room that had witnessed everything "—are you satisfied?"
Paige caught Riley's wandering hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the knuckles. Her answer came without hesitation, voice still raw but certain.
"I didn't know it could be like this."
Riley's expression flickered—satisfaction, yes, but something deeper too. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind Paige's ear. "That's not a yes."
"Then yes." Paige pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together again. "God, yes. More than satisfied." She buried her face against Riley's neck, inhaling the scent of sex and spice. "Completely ruined for anyone else, actually."
Riley laughed, low and knowing, wrapping both arms around her. "Good girl."
Chapter 8
Riley's hand stilled on Paige's thigh, her eyes sharpening with something darker than lust. She shifted onto her elbow, tracing a fingernail down Paige's sternum.
"I have a fantasy," Riley murmured.
Paige blinked up at her, still floating in post-orgasmic haze. "Tell me."
Riley's voice dropped to that commanding register that made Paige's cunt clench involuntarily. "I want you on your knees in front of me. Naked. Vulnerable." She cupped Paige's chin, forcing eye contact. "I want to spread my legs and watch your pretty mouth taste pussy for the very first time."
Paige's breath caught.
"But there's more." Riley's smile turned wicked. "Your husband sits in the corner. Watching. His cock hard and leaking while he sees what you've become—his sweet little housewife with her tongue buried in another woman's cunt."
A mortified whimper escaped Paige's throat. Her cheeks burned crimson even as fresh wetness pooled between her thighs.
Riley rolled suddenly, flipping Paige onto her stomach before she could react. A sharp crack echoed through the hotel room as Riley's palm connected with Paige's bare ass cheek—hard enough to sting, hard enough to leave a pink handprint on that runner's tan.
Paige yelped.
Another slap landed on the other cheek. "Would you do it?" Riley demanded, her hand resting on the heated skin. "Would you eat my pussy while he watches?"
"Yes—" Paige gasped into the pillow.
Riley's palm cracked down again, harder this time, making Paige buck against the mattress. "Would you let him see you become what you really are?" She leaned close, breath hot against Paige's ear. "Are you ready to cross that line? To stop pretending you're just some suburban mom and become a real whore?"
Paige turned her face, tears pricking her eyes from the sting of the spanking, the shock of the words, the unbearable arousal flooding through her veins. She met Riley's fierce gaze.
"Yes," she whispered brokenly. "God, yes."
Chapter 9
Riley rolled off the bed with fluid grace, her naked body catching the lamplight as she walked to the armchair in the corner. She sat down slowly, deliberately, spreading her thighs wide. Her shaved pussy glistened, still wet from their earlier encounters.
"Come here," she commanded.
Paige crawled off the bed on trembling legs, still feeling the sting of Riley's handprints on her ass. She dropped to her knees between Riley's spread thighs, heart hammering against her ribs.
Riley reached down and cupped Paige's chin, tilting her face upward. "You've never tasted a woman before. I want to watch you discover it."
Paige's breath came in shallow gasps. The scent of Riley's arousal filled her nostrils—musky, sweet, utterly intoxicating. Her mouth watered involuntarily.
"Now imagine," Riley continued, her voice dropping to that rough register that made Paige's cunt clench, "your husband sitting right where you are now. Watching his wife learn to eat pussy like she was born for it."
A mortified whimper escaped Paige's throat. Her cheeks burned.
"Would he be hard?" Riley's fingers tightened on Paige's chin. "Would he stroke his cock while he watched me teach his pretty little housewife to be my whore?"
"Yes," Paige breathed, the word escaping before she could stop it.
Riley's smile turned predatory. "Then show me. Taste me. But slowly—I want to savor watching you learn."
She released Paige's chin and leaned back, one hand sliding to her own breast, teasing her nipple. The other hand drifted down, fingers spreading her slick folds open in invitation.
Paige leaned forward, her tongue extending tentatively. The first contact was electric—a flavour unlike anything she'd imagined, salt and sweetness and something primal that made her moan against Riley's flesh.
"That's it," Riley praised, her hips shifting. "Now use your tongue properly. Find my clit."
Paige's exploration grew bolder, her tongue lapping through those wet folds, learning the geography of another woman's pleasure. She found the hardened nub and circled it experimentally, rewarded by Riley's sharp intake of breath.
"Good girl," Riley groaned. "Such a fast learner. Your husband would be so proud—watching his wife become a lesbian slut right before his eyes."
The filthy words sent fresh arousal flooding through Paige. She moaned against Riley's pussy, her tongue working faster, learning what made this dominant woman gasp and grind against her mouth.
Riley's hand fisted in Paige's hair, guiding her rhythm. "Deeper. I want to feel you inside me."
Paige obeyed, plunging her tongue into Riley's heat, tasting her from the inside. The room filled with wet sounds and Riley's escalating moans. Paige's own cunt throbbed with neglected need, but she didn't dare touch herself—not without permission.
This was about learning. About serving. About becoming exactly what Riley wanted her to be.
Chapter 10
"Faster," Riley breathed, her hips rising to meet Paige's eager mouth. "Don't stop. I'm close."
Paige's tongue worked frantically against Riley's clit, her jaw aching but her own need burning hotter. She could taste how close Riley was—the swollen flesh pulsing under her lips, the slick flooding her chin. Her fingers dug into Riley's thighs, holding on as the older woman's breath turned ragged.
"Look at me," Riley commanded.
Paige tilted her face upward without losing contact, her blue eyes meeting Riley's through damp lashes. The sight of her—mouth buried in another woman's cunt, lips glistening, chin shiny with arousal—seemed to undo something in Riley. Her back arched sharply.
"Fuck," Riley gasped. "Right there. Don't you dare move."
Paige obeyed, keeping her tongue flat and steady as Riley's thighs clamped around her head. The first pulse hit—hot and sudden—spraying across Paige's cheeks, her lips, her chin. Riley cried out, grinding against Paige's face as wave after wave soaked her. Paige moaned at the taste, at the sensation of Riley's cum dripping down her neck, marking her.
When the tremors finally subsided, Riley's legs went slack. Paige stayed where she was, lapping gently at the oversensitive flesh until Riley tugged her hair, pulling her upward.
"Come here," Riley said, voice rough with satisfaction.
Paige crawled into her lap and Riley seized her face in both hands, licking her own arousal from Paige's cheeks, then pressing their mouths together in a deep, filthy kiss. Their tongues tangled, sharing the taste, and Paige whimpered against Riley's lips. The kiss turned hungry, desperate, hands roaming slick skin, breasts pressing together.
Riley broke the kiss with a wicked smile. "Shower. Now. I want to watch you touch yourself while the water runs down those perfect tits."
Paige's cunt clenched at the command. "Yes," she whispered.
They rose together, and Riley led her into the bathroom, steam already fogging the glass as the water heated. Under the spray, they didn't touch—not yet. Riley braced against the opposite wall, one hand drifting lazily to her own breast.
"Show me," she ordered. "Show me how you make yourself come when you think about women like me."
Paige's fingers slid down her slippery stomach, finding her clit with practiced ease. Across the steaming space, Riley mirrored her, their eyes locked, two women watching each other fall apart in the falling water.
Chapter 11
Paige's fingers worked faster, her clit swollen and desperate under the hot spray. Across the steam-filled shower, Riley matched her rhythm, two women lost in mirrored pleasure. Paige watched Riley's full breasts bounce with each stroke, watched her blue eyes darken with approaching release.
"I'm going to come," Paige gasped, her thighs trembling. "Please—can I?"
"Yes," Riley groaned. "Now. Together."
The permission shattered something inside Paige. Her orgasm ripped through her, savage and blinding, her cunt clenching around nothing as she cried out Riley's name. Through her haze, she heard Riley's answering moan—raw and unrestrained—and watched the older woman's body convulse against the tile wall, her fingers buried between her legs as her own climax claimed her.
They sagged together, gasping, water sluicing between them. Riley recovered first, reaching for the hotel soap with unsteady hands.
"Turn around," she murmured, and her voice had changed—softer now, almost reverent. She worked the lather across Paige's shoulders, down her spine, over the curve of her ass. Each stroke was deliberate, worshipful. She cleaned Paige's sex with infinite gentleness, a benediction rather than a tease.
"My turn," Paige whispered when Riley finished. Her hands trembled as she returned the ritual—soap sliding over Riley's breasts, her stomach, the strong thighs that had clamped around her head minutes before. Neither spoke. The intimacy of it stole their words.
They stepped out and toweled each other dry in silence. Paige's skin hummed, oversensitive and raw. When they were both naked again in the dim hotel room, she felt something crack open inside her chest—a sudden, terrifying vulnerability.
"Riley?" Her voice came out smaller than she intended.
Riley turned from hanging her towel. "What is it?"
"Would you... would you want to stay? Tonight? Not for more—just..." Paige wrapped her arms around herself. "Just to sleep."
Riley's expression softened. She crossed the room and took Paige's face in both hands. "Yes. I'd like that."
They slipped between cool sheets, curling together like parentheses. Riley's arm draped over Paige's waist. Paige pressed her lips to Riley's collarbone.
"Thank you," she breathed.
Riley kissed her forehead, her eyelids, finally her mouth—soft and slow, no urgency left. "Sleep now."
Their lips stayed close as their breathing slowed and their bodies sank into shared warmth, tangled together in the quiet dark.
Chapter 12
Paige woke to the weight of a thigh pressed between her own, her bare pussy flush against the solid warmth of Riley’s skin. Pale hotel light spilled through the curtains, painting the sheets silver. For a single breath, she thought she’d dreamed everything — the call, the door, the words that had unraveled her — but then Riley shifted in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips, and the thigh flexed, grinding gently against the tender place between Paige’s legs. Not a dream. The heat was real.
A shiver rolled through her. She eased herself free, careful not to wake the woman whose body had rewritten hers. In the bathroom, she closed the door and leaned against it, pulse fluttering. Her reflection in the mirror showed a stranger — same brown hair, same blue eyes, but there was a rawness in her gaze that hadn’t been there twenty-four hours ago. She squatted over the toilet, the sound of her own piss hitting the water jarringly intimate. Her fingers trembled as she wiped herself, the mundane act now charged with last night’s memory: Riley’s mouth everywhere, claiming her.
Before she could wash her hands, the door opened without a knock. Riley stood in the doorway, sleep-mussed and bare, her wavy silver-streaked hair a tousled halo. Her gaze landed on Paige, still sitting on the toilet.
“Morning,” she said, voice rough and low, and then simply crossed to the small space beside the shower. She positioned herself over the bowl, feet planted apart, and without a hint of shame let her own stream flow — a sharp, resonant hiss that seemed to echo in the tiled room. Paige’s eyes dropped, and she couldn’t unsee. The powerful arc of urine splashing white porcelain, the way Riley’s pussy lips parted cleanly to release it, the raw, unfiltered animalism of the act. A sudden flush of desire bloomed low in Paige’s stomach, her cunt already slick again just from watching.
Riley caught her stare. A slow, smug smile curved her lips, and she didn’t look away even as the sound faded and she reached for a square of paper. “Incredible, isn’t it?” she murmured, dabbing herself. “The things that turn us on once the door cracks open.”
Paige’s mouth went dry. She rose on unsteady legs, still naked, and their eyes met — the Blair and the soccer mom, reversed now, the morning light making them equals. Riley stepped forward, cupped Paige’s jaw, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, tasting of sleep and promise.
“We’re not done,” Riley whispered. “But first, coffee. Then I want you to watch me do everything — from the very beginning.”
Paige leaned into her, the reality of it settling in her bones. The fantasy had ended; this was something new.
Chapter 13
The coffee sat forgotten on the nightstand, two ceramic mugs going cold while Riley backed Paige toward the bed. No words now — just the slow, deliberate pressure of her hands on Paige’s hips, the heat of her breath against Paige’s throat as she walked her backward until the backs of her knees hit the mattress.
“Sit,” Riley murmured.
Paige obeyed, sinking onto the rumpled sheets, her naked body still tender from the night before. Riley remained standing, looking down at her with those blue eyes that seemed to see everything — the shy soccer mom, the trembling first-timer, the woman who’d begged and squirted and confessed things she’d never said aloud.
“You watched me piss this morning,” Riley said, voice low and matter-of-fact. “And it made your cunt wet. I could smell it on you.”
Paige flushed, but she didn’t look away. The shame and arousal tangled in her chest, a knot she no longer wanted to untie.
Riley stepped closer, positioning herself between Paige’s parted knees. Her hand lifted to cup Paige’s jaw, thumb tracing her lower lip. “I want you to remember this. Every ordinary thing — every boring, domestic moment you go back to — I want you to feel me there. When you’re folding laundry, making dinner, sitting in carpool line. You’ll think of my tongue inside you and your thighs will squeeze together.”
She leaned down, her mouth hovering just above Paige’s. The kiss didn’t come. Instead, Riley’s hand slid from Paige’s jaw down her throat, over her collarbone, until her palm rested against the heavy curve of Paige’s left breast. She didn’t squeeze — just held it, warm and possessive.
“These gorgeous tits,” Riley breathed. “Your husband doesn’t know what to do with them, does he? Doesn’t know how to make you moan just by circling a nipple with his thumb?”
She demonstrated, the pad of her thumb finding Paige’s nipple and tracing a slow, deliberate circle. Paige gasped, her back arching involuntarily, pushing her breast deeper into Riley’s hand.
“No,” Paige whispered. “He doesn’t.”
Riley smiled, a slow curve of satisfaction. “But I do.”
She released Paige’s breast and stepped back, leaving her breathless and aching on the edge of the bed. Without hurry, Riley turned toward the full-length mirror mounted on the closet door. She positioned herself in front of it and crooked a finger at Paige.
“Come here. I want you to see what I see.”
Paige rose on unsteady legs and crossed the room. Riley guided her to stand in front of the mirror, then pressed herself against Paige’s back, her full breasts warm against Paige’s shoulder blades, her hands settling on Paige’s hips. Their reflections stared back — Paige’s flushed skin and wide eyes, Riley’s knowing smirk over her shoulder.
“Look at you,” Riley purred against Paige’s ear. “A beautiful, married woman who just discovered she likes eating pussy. Who got so turned on watching another woman take a piss that she’s dripping down her own thighs right now.”
Paige’s gaze dropped to her reflection, to the faint gleam of moisture on her inner thighs. Riley’s right hand slid from her hip, fingers trailing through the trimmed hair of her mound, then dipping lower — not inside, just resting against the slick heat of her, a promise withheld.
“This is yours now,” Riley said, meeting Paige’s eyes in the mirror. “This hunger. You’ll never go back to not knowing what your body can do. And every time you touch yourself — and you will, Paige, late at night while your husband sleeps beside you — you’ll think of me.”
Her fingers pressed slightly, just enough to part Paige’s lips, the cool air of the room kissing her most sensitive skin. Paige whimpered, hips rocking forward, seeking more.
Riley chuckled, dark and soft. “Not yet. First, I want you to watch yourself fall apart. Slowly.”
She withdrew her hand and guided Paige back toward the bed, the mirror behind them now reflecting the long lines of their bodies as Riley laid Paige down against the pillows. The morning light caught the silver streak in Riley’s hair as she knelt between Paige’s thighs, not lowering her mouth — not yet — just looking.
“Beautiful,” she said, and the word was a promise.
Paige’s hips lifted, desperate and involuntary, a silent plea. Riley only smiled and pressed one kiss to the inside of Paige’s knee, then the other, working her way up with maddening slowness, her lips leaving a trail of fire that stopped just short of where Paige needed her most.
She stayed there, breath hot against Paige’s wetness, not touching, letting the anticipation coil tighter and tighter until Paige thought she might scream.
“Please,” Paige breathed.
Riley’s eyes flicked up to meet hers. “Please what?”
The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the ache built to something unbearable — and still, Riley waited.
Chapter 14
“Please what?” Riley’s voice was a low, knowing taunt. “Please make you come? Please taste this soaked pussy? Or…” She paused, her smirk turning wolfish. “Please let me feel that pretty mouth on me while I eat you out?”
Paige’s breath caught. She nodded, the word trapped in her throat.
“Then turn around,” Riley commanded, already shifting. “Straddle my face. I want your cunt on my tongue while you suck my clit.”
Paige scrambled, limbs clumsy with need, as Riley lay back and guided her hips. In seconds, Paige was positioned above her, knees bracketing Riley’s head, her own face hovering over Riley’s shaved mound. The scent of arousal hit her—musky, sweet—and she whimpered.
Riley’s hands gripped Paige’s ass, pulling her down. “Don’t be gentle. Ride my mouth.”
The first stroke of Riley’s tongue against her clit ripped a cry from Paige. She bucked, but Riley held her firm, licking deep into her folds, then circling the swollen nub. Paige’s vision blurred. She lowered her head, remembering her task, and pressed her lips to Riley’s slick heat.
The taste exploded on her tongue—salt and tang and pure woman. She moaned, the vibration drawing a sharp gasp from Riley beneath her. Paige copied what Riley had taught her, lapping at the hard bud, sucking it between her lips.
Riley groaned, her hips lifting. “Yes, just like that. Fuck, your mouth…”
They fell into a rhythm, each stroke of Paige’s tongue mirrored by Riley’s, pleasure building in a feedback loop. Paige’s thighs trembled as Riley sucked her clit, two fingers sliding inside her, curling. The pressure coiled, unbearable.
“I’m going to come,” Paige panted against Riley’s flesh, the words muffled.
Riley’s only reply was to double down, lashing her clit faster, and Paige shattered. A scream tore from her throat, hips grinding down as spasms wracked her. The orgasm pulsed through her, hot and blinding.
As she rode the waves, she sucked harder on Riley’s clit, desperate to give back. Riley’s thighs clamped around her head, a guttural moan escaping. “Cumming—Paige, I’m cumming—!”
Riley’s body arched, her release flooding Paige’s tongue as she cried out. Paige swallowed, greedy, until the last tremor faded and they both collapsed.
They lay tangled, breathless, Riley’s fingers still lazily stroking Paige’s thigh. No words, just the humid air and the thud of two hearts slowly calming. Paige pressed a kiss to Riley’s hip, and Riley’s hand found her hair, stroking softly.
Chapter 15
Riley’s fingers stilled in Paige’s hair. “I have to go, baby.” She said it softly, but with finality.
Paige’s stomach dropped, the warm haze of their tangled limbs suddenly fragile. She lifted her head from Riley’s hip, watching as the older woman sat up, swung her legs off the bed, and began gathering her clothes. The black blouse slipped over her shoulders, hiding those magnificent breasts. The skirt followed, smooth fabric sliding over her curvy hips. Each garment that covered Riley’s body felt like a small loss.
Paige didn’t move from the bed. Her hand drifted between her own thighs, fingers slipping through the slick heat Riley had left behind. Slow circles over her clit as she watched Riley fasten the blouse, tuck the silver-streaked hair behind an ear, step into her heels. The voyeuristic ache of it—knowing she was touching herself while Riley prepared to walk out the door—made her breath catch.
Riley turned, catching the motion under the sheet. Her blue eyes flicked down, then back up, a smirk curving her lips. “Doing that while I dress, so naughty.” Her voice dropped. “Should I stay and watch you finish?”
Paige’s fingers slowed but didn’t stop. “Yes,” she whispered, hating how raw the word sounded.
Riley crossed to the edge of the bed, leaned over, and pressed a single kiss to Paige’s parted lips. It was tender and devastating. “I can’t. I’ve got a client.” She pulled back, her expression shifting into something sharper. “But I’ll leave you with this.” She tilted her head, eyes boring into Paige’s. “If you ever want to fuck in front of your husband—him watching, maybe even recording—I’ll fly anywhere, anytime. You just say the word.”
The offer hung in the air like smoke. Paige’s fingers pressed harder against her clit, but her mind was already careening into that image: herself on hands and knees, Riley behind her, and Rob sitting in the chair with his belt unbuckled.
“Call me,” Riley said, and then she was gone, the hotel door clicking shut.
Paige lay there, heart pounding, body flushed with desire and something darker. Her fingers resumed their rhythm, chasing the edge Riley’s words had promised, the room suddenly too quiet and too full all at once.
Chapter 16
The conference ended in a blur of lanyards and polite applause. Paige flew home with her body still humming from Riley, her panties damp through the entire flight. She waited until the kids were asleep, the house dark, and Rob was unlocking his belt in the bedroom. Then she crossed the room and pushed him backward onto the mattress.
He laughed, surprised. “What’s gotten into you?”
She didn’t answer. She climbed over him, straddling his hips, grinding the soaked gusset of her cotton pajama shorts against the hard ridge in his boxers. Her hands fisted the front of his shirt, yanking him up for a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. She tasted his mouth like she was starving.
“Fuck me,” she said against his lips. “Hard. Please, Rob. I need it hard.”
His hands found her ass, squeezing, and she moaned into his neck. She shoved his boxers down, took his cock in her hand—already thick, already leaking—and guided him to her entrance. She sank down without preamble, a sharp, tearing breath escaping as he filled her completely.
“Jesus, Paige,” he gasped.
She rode him with a ferocity she hadn’t touched in years. Her hips rolled and slammed, her tits bouncing under the thin sleep shirt. She braced her hands on his chest, nails digging, and started to chant.
“Harder. Fuck me harder. Please, baby, harder, don’t stop, I’m going to come all over your cock.”
He gripped her hips and drove up into her, meeting every downward stroke with brutal force. The headboard cracked against the wall. Her clit caught on his pubic bone with each collision, and she shattered, crying out as a hot flood soaked his stomach and thighs. He kept pounding through it, his own release surging a moment later, hot ropes of cum painting her insides as he groaned her name.
She collapsed onto his chest, gasping, her pussy still pulsing around his softening length. He stroked her hair, stunned.
“Where the hell did that come from?” he whispered.
Paige pressed a kiss to his collarbone and smiled, thinking of a silver-streaked woman and a hotel room three hundred miles away.
Chapter 17
The hotel room smelled like Rob’s aftershave and the faint chlorine of the hotel pool. Paige stood by the window, city lights smearing through the glass, her phone clutched in a hand that wouldn’t stop trembling. Rob was in the shower, water drumming against tile, oblivious. She’d booked this trip for them—a long weekend away—but the moment they’d landed in Riley’s city, a hunger had coiled low in her belly, hot and insistent.
She scrolled to the number she’d never deleted. Her thumb hovered. *Months.* Months since that hotel room, since Riley’s silver-streaked hair had fanned across her thigh, since she’d squirted for the first time and sobbed into a stranger’s arms. She pressed call.
It rang twice. Three times. Then that voice, deeper than memory, curving into her ear like smoke.
“I was wondering when you’d call, pretty girl.”
Paige’s breath snagged. “Riley. I—we’re in your city. My husband and I. I didn’t tell him anything. I just… I need to see you.”
A low, knowing chuckle. “Of course you do. Need me to take care of that hungry little pussy again? After all this time?” Paige made a sound, not quite a word. “It’s okay, hon. I’ve got everything handled. Tell me what hotel.”
“The Westin Grand. Room 814.”
“Perfect. Be in the hotel bar tonight, nine sharp. Wear something that shows off those tits—and no panties. I want you wet and ready the second I walk in.”
Paige’s thighs pressed together, her cunt already slicking at the command. “What about Rob? He doesn’t know—”
“I told you, I’ve got it handled. You trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes.” The word escaped before she could think.
“Good girl. Now hang up, go act like a wife, and don’t you dare touch that pretty clit until I tell you to. Tonight, your husband’s going to see exactly who owns it.”
The line went dead. Paige stood frozen, the phone hot against her ear, her panties—cotton, drenched—a testament to the promise. She heard the shower shut off. Nine o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
Chapter 18
The bar at the Westin was all low amber light and polished walnut, the kind of place where secrets slipped between the clink of ice cubes. Paige perched on a stool, one leg crossed so tightly her knee ached, the hem of her navy wrap dress riding up her thigh with every nervous shift. No panties. The air-conditioned draft against her bare pussy was a constant, shimmering reminder. Rob sat beside her, scrolling his phone, oblivious to the storm building in her chest.
Nine came. Then nine-ten. Paige ordered a second vodka soda—something to slow the thrum of her pulse—but it only made her skin feel tighter, her nipples peaking obscenely against the thin fabric. *She's not coming. She's not coming. Oh God, she's—*
Then the bar's energy shifted.
Riley stood just inside the entrance, scanning the room with that unhurried, predatory calm Paige remembered so viscerally. She wore a charcoal wrap dress, fitted and respectable, the neckline a generous V that cradled her full breasts without ever looking indecent. Her silvery-streaked waves were swept back from her face, pearl studs at her ears. A leather tote hung from her shoulder. Soccer mom at a PTA fundraiser. No one would guess the things those manicured hands could do.
She didn't look at Paige. Not once. Instead, she crossed the room slowly, heels clicking on the marble, and stopped directly in front of Rob.
Paige's breath caught. Her chest constricted.
Rob glanced up, confused. "Can I help you?"
Riley set her tote on the empty stool beside him, then fixed him with those blue eyes—steady, direct, unnervingly calm. A faint smile curved her lips.
"Rob, is it?" Her voice was smooth as bourbon. "I'm Riley." She paused, letting the name settle, letting him register that this elegant stranger knew him. Then she leaned in, just slightly, the scent of her perfume curling between them. "I have a proposition for you."
Rob blinked. "I—what? Do we know each other?"
"No." Riley's gaze didn't waver. "But I know your wife. Intimately." A beat. "And tonight, I'm going to fuck her again. In front of you. While you watch." Another pause, deliberate, velvet. "And then, if you behave, I'll let you fuck me." Her head tilted, a lock of gray-streaked hair sliding against her jaw. "But only after. Only if I can have her first."
The words hung in the amber air, heavy and impossible. Paige's thighs clenched, her bare pussy suddenly slick against the leather stool. She watched Rob's face cycle through shock, then something rawer—anger, confusion, and beneath it all, the unmistakable flicker of heat. His fingers tightened around his glass, knuckles white, but he didn't speak. Couldn't.
Riley straightened, smoothing her dress with one palm. "Room 814," she said quietly, as if this were a dinner reservation and not a detonation. "We'll wait ten minutes. Come up when you're ready." She turned without waiting for an answer, collecting her bag, and began walking toward the elevators. She paused only once, glancing back over her shoulder—not at Rob, but at Paige, a question and a promise in the curve of her smile.
Then she was gone, leaving the two of them stranded in the wreckage of the ordinary, everything about to change.
Chapter 19
Rob stared at her, the ice in his glass melting into a watery puddle he didn’t touch. His jaw worked, but no words came. Paige’s pulse was a hummingbird trapped in her throat. She watched him process—the elegant stranger, the obscene offer, the way his wife was already slick and trembling before any hand had touched her.
“You…” he finally managed, voice rough. “You’ve done this before. With her.” It wasn’t a question. His gaze dropped to the front of her dress, where her nipples punched the fabric, then lower, where her legs crossed tighter, hiding nothing.
Paige couldn’t lie. Couldn’t speak. She just nodded, her cheeks burning, and the sight of her own shame mixed with raw, undeniable hunger must have broken something in him, because his eyes went dark—angry, yes, but also ravenous. He set down the glass with a hard clink. “Room 814,” he said, standing. “Let’s see what you’ve become.”
The elevator was a steel box of unsaid things. Paige leaned against the wall, her knees watery, the cold metal a shock through the thin dress. Rob stood opposite, watching her with an expression she’d never seen—like he was staring at a stranger wearing his wife’s skin. His trousers were tented. Neither spoke.
The door to 814 swung open before Rob’s knuckles finished the knock. Riley leaned against the frame, barefoot, her dress loosened just enough to show the swells of her breasts, a glass of red wine in her hand. She smiled at Rob, then let her eyes drag over Paige like a promise. “Right on time. Come in.” She stepped back, and the hotel room stretched out behind her, lamplit and waiting, the king bed turned down.
Rob walked in first, his shoulders tight. Riley gestured him to a wingback chair facing the bed. “Sit there. Watch. Don’t touch anything—not yourself, not us—until I say.” Her voice was velvet and steel. Rob sat, his hands gripping the armrests, his gaze fixed on his wife.
Riley turned to Paige. In the hush, she reached out and pulled the knot of Paige’s wrap dress. The navy fabric slithered open, and Paige stood there in nothing but her skin—bare pussy, full breasts, tan lines stark against the lamplight. Rob’s breath caught audibly. Riley’s smile widened. “Beautiful,” she murmured, and then her hand closed over Paige’s breast, thumb circling the nipple, as she lowered her mouth to Paige’s neck.
“Now,” Riley whispered against her pulse, “let’s give him a show.”
Chapter 20
Riley’s mouth left a damp trail down Paige’s throat while her fingers kept circling the tight peak of her nipple. Paige whined, hips swaying forward into nothing, acutely aware of Rob’s stare branding her from the chair. Riley lifted her head and spoke past Paige, directly to him. “Look at those thighs shake. She’s soaked already, isn’t she? You can probably smell her from there.”
Rob’s knuckles went white on the armrests. His erection pressed obscenely against his trousers, but he didn’t move. Didn’t dare.
Riley cupped Paige’s pussy—a possessive, wet-palmed claim—and Paige bucked, a desperate sound escaping. “Please,” she breathed, but Riley tsked.
“Please what? You don’t get to beg yet.” She withdrew her hand, glistening, and raised her fingers to Rob. “This is what you’ve been missing. The greedy little slut you married, dripping for someone else.” Paige shuddered at the word, at the exposure, her face flaming, her pussy clenching on emptiness.
Riley’s voice dropped. “But first, I think she needs a reminder of who’s in charge. Turn around, Paige. Bend over the foot of the bed. Show him that runner’s ass.”
Paige moved on numb legs, the hotel carpet rough on her bare feet. She leaned over the mattress, presenting herself—bottom raised, the tan lines stark, her slick sex visible between her thighs. She heard Rob’s strangled breath.
Riley stepped close, one hand splaying over Paige’s lower back. “You’ve been hiding this from him. Sneaking around, getting your pussy licked by a stranger. Bad girl.” The first slap landed with a sharp, stinging crack. Paige yelped, her flesh jiggling, a bright handprint blooming. Rob swore under his breath. The second spank came harder, lower, and Paige’s moan dissolved into a sob of raw, filthy need. Riley soothed the reddened skin with a slow stroke, then delivered a third, then a fourth, until Paige was trembling, cunt visibly pulsing, her arousal smearing her thighs.
“There,” Riley murmured, stroking the heated cheeks. “Now you’re ready.” She pulled Paige upright and guided her onto the bed, arranging her on her back, legs spread wide, facing Rob. Riley knelt between them, eye-level with Paige’s soaked pussy, and glanced back at him. “Take out your cock. You can touch yourself—but don’t you dare come until I say. And if you disobey, I’ll stop, and she’ll be left like this, aching and empty. Understand?”
Rob fumbled with his belt. Riley lowered her mouth to Paige’s cunt, and the room filled with the sound of a slow, deliberate, worshipping lick.
Chapter 21
Riley’s tongue dragged slow and flat through Paige’s slit, then circled her clit with practiced, unhurried pressure. Paige’s back arched off the rumpled duvet, her hands fisting the sheets, a raw moan tearing from her throat. “Oh God… oh fuck…”
Across the room, Rob’s belt clinked as he freed his cock. His fist wrapped around it immediately, jerking with rough, uneven strokes, his eyes locked on Riley’s mouth working between his wife’s spread thighs. A bead of sweat traced his temple.
Riley lifted her head just enough to speak against Paige’s wet flesh. “She tastes better when you’re watching, Rob. Can you see how swollen she is? How desperate?”
Paige keened, hips rolling shamelessly toward Riley’s mouth. The Blair’s tongue speared inside her, curling, while two fingers spread her open for Rob’s view. Paige could feel the obscene display of it—her cunt glistening, exposed, her arousal smeared across Riley’s lips and chin. The shame only made her throb harder.
“Please, please don’t stop,” Paige gasped, her thighs trembling, the pressure coiling tight and hot in her belly. Her climax hovered just out of reach, a breath away, but Riley kept the rhythm steady—enough to drive her wild, not enough to tip her over.
“She gets like this,” Riley murmured, turning her head toward Rob while her thumb replaced her tongue on Paige’s clit, rubbing slow circles. “Needy. Begging. You should hear her when it’s just us. How she whimpers my name.”
Rob grunted, his hand moving faster, but he didn’t come. Didn’t dare.
Riley slid two fingers inside Paige, curling them forward, and Paige cried out—a sharp, broken sound. Her inner walls tightened around the intrusion, and Riley moaned low in her throat, feeling it. “That’s it. Clench around my fingers. Show him how much you need to be filled.”
Paige’s head thrashed on the pillow, her legs falling wider, surrendering completely. The tension built and built, hot and liquid, coiling through her core. She was right on the edge—so close she could taste it, could feel her own pulse hammering in her clit. But Riley pulled back just enough, her fingers stilling, buried deep but motionless.
“Not yet,” Riley breathed against Paige’s thigh, placing a soft kiss there. “You’ll come when I decide. And you’ll scream for him.”
Paige whimpered, trembling from head to toe, still so full, still so achingly empty of release. Rob’s ragged breathing filled the silence, his cock glistening at the tip, his whole body rigid with restraint. Riley glanced back at him and smiled.
“Now,” she said softly, licking her lips. “Where were we?”
Chapter 22
Riley withdrew her fingers with a wet, obscene sound that made Paige shudder. She held them up, glistening in the low hotel light, and turned her wrist so Rob could see the glossy evidence coating her skin.
“Look at her,” Riley said, her voice a low, satisfied murmur. “She’s drenched. And I haven’t even made her come yet.”
Rob’s hand stilled on his cock, his jaw tight, chest rising and falling with shallow, ragged breaths. His eyes flicked from Riley’s slick fingers to Paige’s flushed, open body—spread wide, thighs trembling, her clit still throbbing from the edge Riley had denied her.
Riley shifted on the bed, moving up Paige’s body with slow, predatory grace. She straddled one of Paige’s thighs, the rough denim of her unbuttoned jeans scraping against soft, overheated skin. Paige whined, trying to press closer, but Riley caught her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand.
“You wanted him to watch,” Riley breathed, her mouth just above Paige’s parted lips. “So let’s give him a show he’ll jerk off to for the rest of his life.”
She lowered her head and took one of Paige’s nipples into her mouth, sucking hard enough to make Paige cry out. Her tongue lashed the stiff peak, teeth grazing with deliberate, teasing pressure. Paige bucked beneath her, desperate for friction, but Riley’s weight held her down.
“Riley… please,” Paige begged, her voice cracking.
Riley released her nipple with a wet pop, then pinched the other one between her thumb and forefinger, rolling it slowly. Paige’s hips surged, a broken sob escaping her. The sensation was electric, lancing straight from her chest to her aching, empty cunt.
“She needs it bad,” Riley said, glancing over her shoulder at Rob. Her free hand slid down Paige’s stomach, pausing just above her mound. Not touching. “You hear how she whimpers? How her hips chase me?”
Rob’s cock twitched in his grip, leaking steadily now. He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His whole body was rigid, caught between fury and unbearable arousal.
Riley smiled and looked back at Paige, whose eyes were glassy, lips parted, chest heaving. “I could keep you like this for hours,” she whispered, brushing her knuckles over Paige’s wet slit with featherlight pressure. “But I think your husband deserves to see exactly how much you love being stretched by my fingers.”
She slid two fingers back inside Paige, slow and deep, curling forward against that spot that made her see stars. Paige let out a long, guttural moan, her inner walls fluttering around the intrusion, her legs falling open even wider—an offering, a plea.
Riley pumped her fingers in a slow, grinding rhythm, palm pressing against Paige’s clit with each stroke. The wet, rhythmic sound filled the room, mixing with Rob’s harsh breathing and Paige’s desperate, high-pitched cries.
“Don’t stop,” Paige sobbed, her whole body trembling on the edge. “Please, Riley, don’t you dare stop…”