Chavvy lesbian ($name2) fucks her electrician friend ($name1) in a rainy alleyway…
The rain came down in sheets, hammering the concrete walls of the alleyway until they streamed like the sides of a waterfall. The only light came from two struggling streetlamps, their bulbs flickering on and off in some arrhythmic death rattle, and the pale glow that spilled from the open utility box where $name1 knelt in the mud.
She had given up trying to stay dry about twenty minutes ago. Her charcoal-grey shirt was plastered to her back, the fabric darkened to near black with water, and her rolled sleeves had let the rain run down her forearms and soak into her heavy gloves. The mud had claimed her knees and the shins of her trousers, thick and brown and cold. She ignored all of it. The breaker had blown somewhere deeper in the grid and the estate behind her had gone dark, which meant angry people were probably already phoning the council, which meant the on-call supervisor would be ringing her phone any second now. She had maybe ten more minutes before this became a formal complaint.
The rusted flashlight beam wavered across the tangled wires.
“Here, hold still, you stupid fuck.”
The voice came from behind her, sharp and exasperated. $name1 twisted her neck, rain dripping off the end of her chin-length bob, and saw $name2 standing at the mouth of the alley, soaked to the bone in her neon-pink puffer jacket, which had gone a darker shade where the water had saturated it. Her bleached hair was flattened against her skull in messy ropes. She was gripping the heavy, rusted Maglite with both hands, and the beam was shaking.
“What are you doing out here?” $name1 asked.
“Half the estate’s gone dark, yeah?” $name2’s voice was pitched over the rain. “My mum’s scared of the dark. Had to go find help. Saw your van.”
“There’s a fault in the grid. I’m working on it.”
“Clearly not fast enough, because I’m getting soaked.”
$name2 moved closer, her trainers squelching in the mud, and brought the flashlight up. The beam steadied against the open utility box, glinting off the copper and the grey casing of the breaker. $name1 watched the girl’s hand for a moment, noted the slight tremor in it, then turned back to her work.
The rain kept falling. $name1 worked her way through the wiring with her fingers, feeling for the burned section, the blackened plastic. She was aware of $name2 behind her, the presence of her, the faint warmth she radiated even through the cold. She could hear the girl’s breathing, short and sharp.
“How long you been doing this?” $name2 asked.
“Twelve years.”
“Proper shock that. A bird doing this.”
$name1’s gloved fingers paused. “A bird can wire a house just as well as a bloke.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” $name2 shifted her weight, the flashlight beam dipping. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m just cold and nervous.”
“About what?”
The beam steadied again. $name2 was quiet for a moment. $name1 felt the silence stretch, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name, and then she turned to look over her shoulder properly. $name2 was standing close enough now that her shadow fell across $name1. Her face was pale, the freckles standing out against her skin, and her hazel eyes were fixed on $name1 with an intensity that had nothing to do with the wiring.
“You just look proper focused, is all,” $name2 said. “Like you know exactly what you’re doing. I like that.”
$name1 held her gaze for a long moment. The rain hammered down between them, and the flickering streetlamp cast their shadows together against the wet brick wall, a single dark shape that rose and fell with the unsteady light. $name2’s hand was definitely trembling now, the beam of the Maglite shivering across the ground.
“You’re getting cold,” $name1 said. “You should go back inside.”
“Not leaving you out here on your own.”
“It’s just a breaker. I’ve got this.”
“Don’t care.” $name2’s chin lifted, defiant. “I’m staying. Need to make sure you don’t electrocute yourself or whatever, yeah? Then who’d fix the lights?”
$name1 let out a breath that was almost a laugh, a thin plume of condensation vanishing into the rain. She shook her head and turned back to the box, but a warmth had settled in her chest that had nothing to do with body heat. She found the burned section at last, the plastic blistered and melted, and stripped the wire with a steady hand.
“Hand me the screwdriver from my belt,” she said. “The red one.”
“Which one’s red?”
“The one with the red handle.”
$name2 stepped in closer, pressing herself into the narrow space between $name1 and the wall to reach the tool belt. Her hip brushed against $name1’s shoulder, and the contact was electric in a way that had nothing to do with the live circuits in the box. $name2’s fingers fumbled at the belt for a moment, finding the red-handled screwdriver and pulling it free.
“Here.”
Their fingers touched as $name1 took it. The rain was cold, but the skin of $name2’s hand was warm. $name1 turned her head, and $name2 was right there, her face inches away, her breath hitching in her chest. The smell of her rose up through the rain: cheap shampoo and cigarettes and something else, something clean and young.
“You done staring?” $name2’s voice was soft, almost a whisper.
“I wasn’t staring.”
“Bollocks. You proper were.”
$name1 looked at her a moment longer, at the rain beading on her lashes, at the way her lips parted slightly, at the defiant set of her jaw that didn’t quite mask the nervousness underneath. Then she turned away and went back to work, the screwdriver turning in her grip.
“Thanks for the light,” she said.
“Any time.”
$name2 stayed close, the flashlight held steady, and the rain kept falling around them.
$name1 worked the wire free with a grunt, the screwdriver twisting against the corroded terminals. The breaker had fought back, the bolts rusted to near seizure, but she had patience for this, always had. Twelve years of crawling through lofts and crouching under floors had taught her that the stubborn stuff just needed a steady hand and a fuck-ton of patience. She heard $name2 shift behind her, the wet squelch of her trainers, and then felt the breath against the back of her neck.
“You’re proper tense,” $name2 said, her voice low now, almost drowned by the rain. “Look at your shoulders. All bunched up like you’re expecting a fight.”
“I’m working.”
“Uh huh.”
$name1 felt it before she understood it, the light brush of fingers along the small of her back, tentative at first, then firmer, $name2’s hand sliding down the soaked fabric of her work shirt with a deliberate, slow pressure. Her gloved hand froze on the breaker. The rain kept hammering, but it seemed distant now, muffled, like the whole world had pulled back to the narrow space between them.
$name2’s palm pressed flat against her spine, warm through the wet shirt, and slid lower, down toward her hip, tracing the line of her tool belt before slipping beneath the edge of it.
“What are you doing?” $name1’s voice came out rougher than she intended.
“Told you. I’m staying.” $name2’s breath was warm on her ear. “Just getting comfortable. You mind?”
$name1 turned her head. $name2 was right there, her face inches away, rain dripping from her lashes, her lips parted. The flashlight was lowered now, its beam pointing uselessly at the mud between them. Her hand was still on $name1’s back, fingers curling against the fabric.
“You’re shaking,” $name1 said.
“So are you.”
They both were. $name1 swallowed, her throat dry despite the rain. The open breaker box hummed behind her, the live circuits waiting, but the heat between them was its own kind of current.
“Christ, $name2. You’re twenty-one.”
“And you’re what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? That a problem?”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you fix things. I know you don’t flinch. I know your hands are steady even in a storm.” $name2’s fingers tightened on the fabric of her shirt. “That’s more than most blokes I’ve met give me in a month.”
$name1’s breath hitched. The screwdriver hung loose in her grip. She should turn away, finish the job, go home, drink tea, forget this. But the warmth of $name2’s hand against her back was a live wire, and she knew, with a certainty that muted everything else, that she wasn’t strong enough to cut it.
“The breaker’s nearly done,” $name1 said, her voice barely above the rain.
“Then finish it.”
But neither of them moved. The moment stretched, heavy and electric, and then $name2 leaned in and pressed her mouth against $name1’s.
It was clumsy at first, the angle wrong, their wet noses bumping. But then $name1 dropped the screwdriver with a clatter into the mud and twisted, her gloved hands coming up to cup $name2’s face, and the kiss deepened, hungry and wanting, the rain forgotten around them. $name2 made a small, desperate sound into her mouth, her fingers digging into the soaked fabric of $name1’s shirt.
$name1 broke off, breathing hard. “$name2. We’re in an alley. It’s pissing it down.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the rain.” $name2’s hands were already at the buttons of $name1’s shirt, fumbling with them, her fingers clumsy and trembling. “I’ve wanted this since I saw you at the cafe. That first time, when you came in for a bacon roll and a tea. You looked at me, and I proper forgot my own name, you know that?”
$name1’s hands closed over $name2’s, stilling them. “You’re soaked. You’re cold. You’ll catch a death of it.”
“Then warm me up.”
The words hung in the rain. $name1 looked at $name2’s face, defiant and open and terrified under all the bravado, and something in her chest cracked open.
“Alright,” she said. “Alright.”
She pulled $name2 in by the hips, backing her against the wet brick wall of the alley, and kissed her again, deeper this time. $name2’s hands tore at her shirt, the buttons giving way with pops that were lost in the rain, and $name1’s work shirt fell open, her skin goosebumping in the cold. $name2’s fingers found her collarbone, then the swell of her breasts beneath her soaked bra, and $name1 gasped against her mouth.
“Fuck,” $name2 breathed. “You’re so fit.”
$name1 laughed, a breathless, disbelieving sound. “I’m soaked and covered in mud.”
“Don’t care.” $name2’s hands slid up under the wet lace of $name1’s bra, cupping her breasts, thumbs finding her nipples through the thin fabric. “Proper perfect. Know how long I’ve thought about this? Jerking off in my bed, thinking about your hands on me, thinking about you touching me like you touch those wires, all precise and careful and like you give a fuck.”
$name1 groaned, her hands coming up to cup $name2’s face again, thumb brushing her rain-chilled lips. “You got a mouth on you.”
“Always have. You gonna shut me up?”
$name1 did. She kissed her again, hard and claiming, and her hands slid down, gripping $name2’s thighs, hitching her up against the wall. $name2’s legs wrapped around her waist automatically, her heels digging into the small of $name1’s back, and the friction of their bodies, the heat despite the cold, sent a spark through them both.
“Fuck, yes,” $name2 gasped against her mouth. “Right there. Keep going.”
$name1’s hand worked its way between them, finding the button of $name2’s jeans and popping it open. The zip came down, and $name2 groaned, arching her hips against the touch. $name1 slid her hand inside, fingers brushing the wet fabric of $name2’s knickers, and $name2 bucked hard.
“So wet,” $name1 murmured. “Jesus, $name2. Just from kissing me?”
“Been wet since I saw you in that van, darlin’. Now shut up and get in there.”
$name1 laughed, low and dirty, and her fingers hooked the edge of $name2’s knickers, pulling them aside. The first touch of bare skin, the warm slick of her, made them both shudder. $name1’s fingers found her clit and $name2 cried out, a sharp, bitten-off sound.
“That’s it,” $name2 gasped. “Touch me proper. Fuck, right there, don’t stop.”
$name1 worked her fingers in circles, learning the pace of her, the rhythm of her hips. $name2’s head fell back against the brick, her mouth open to the rain, and she was gripping $name1’s shoulders with white-knuckled fingers.
“$name1,” she breathed. “Fuck. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come so fast, that’s your fault.”
“Come for me then.” $name1’s thumb pressed harder, her fingers sliding lower, pushing into her, and $name2’s whole body seized.
She came with a broken cry, her hips grinding against $name1’s hand, her cunt clenching around her fingers. $name1 held her through it, feeling the tremors ripple through the girl’s body, feeling her own heat twist low and aching in her belly.
Then $name2’s hand was on her belt, unbuckling it, tugging her trousers down her hips. Her fingers found the soaked cotton of $name1’s knickers and slid beneath them, and $name1 exhaled a shuddering breath.
“You’re soaked too,” $name2 said, her voice ragged. “All that for me?”
“Keep talking and you’ll find out.”
$name2’s fingers found her, and $name1’s head dropped forward against her shoulder, a low groan torn from her throat. $name2’s touch was eager, clumsy but deliberate, sliding through her wetness with a rising confidence.
“Like that,” $name1 managed. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
The rain fell around them, the streetlamp flickered, and the power grid hummed back to life behind them, a dull orange glow spilling from the repaired breaker. Neither of them noticed.
$name2’s mouth found her collarbone. Not the shoulder, not the neck, but that sharp ridge of bone where $name1’s wet shirt had fallen open, and her lips pressed there, hot against the rain-chilled skin. $name1’s breath sucked in through her teeth, her fingers tightening in $name2’s soaked hair.
“Fuck,” $name2 whispered against her skin. “Taste like rain.”
Her tongue traced the line of the bone, slow and deliberate, lapping at the water beaded there before her teeth grazed the skin. $name1’s hips bucked forward into her hand, and $name2 smiled against her throat, a wicked, knowing press of lips that made $name1’s knees go weak.
“Sensitive there, yeah?”
“Shut up.”
$name2 laughed, low and filthy, and her mouth moved lower. She pushed the open shirt aside, her lips dragging down $name1’s sternum, her tongue finding the wet lace of her bra and tasting the fabric before her teeth caught the edge of it. $name1’s hands found her shoulders, gripping hard, and $name2 pulled the bra cup aside with her teeth.
The night air hit $name1’s nipple and she flinched, but $name2’s mouth was there a heartbeat later, closing over it, hot and wet, the contrast of cold rain and warm tongue making her gasp aloud. $name2 sucked, hard, her tongue rolling the stiff peak against the roof of her mouth, and $name1’s hips ground against nothing, desperate.
“Jesus Christ,” $name1 breathed.
$name2 pulled off with a wet sound, her breath fogging the skin, and looked up the length of $name1’s body. Her eyes were dark, almost black in the flickering light, her lips slick and parted. “Get that off,” she said, tugging at the wet shirt.
$name1 tore at it, shrugging it off her shoulders and letting it drop into the mud. The undershirt went with it, dragged over her head, and the cold rain hit her bare skin in a full shock that made her gasp. But $name2’s hands were there, sliding up her ribs, her thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts, and the warmth of her touch cut through the chill like a live wire.
“Proper gorgeous,” $name2 murmured. “Look at you. All these muscles.”
Her hands came around $name1’s waist, pulling her close, and her mouth returned to her collarbone, kissing along it while her fingers worked the button of $name1’s trousers, popping it free. The zip slid down. $name2’s hand slipped inside the waistband, palm flat against the wet cotton of her knickers.
“These need to go,” $name2 said against her skin. “Now.”
$name1 kicked off her boots, toed her trousers down her hips, and $name2 tugged the soaked fabric down her thighs the rest of the way. She stood there in the rain, naked from the waist down, her skin goosebumped and shivering, while $name2 looked up at her from where she knelt in the mud.
“Look at you,” $name2 said again, softer this time, almost reverent. “All that for me.”
$name1’s throat worked. “$name2, you don’t have to…”
“Don’t tell me what I have to do.” $name2’s hands slid up $name1’s thighs, her thumbs parting the slick, bare flesh, and her mouth pressed against the skin of her hip. “I’ve thought about this every night since I seen you. You don’t get to tell me I don’t have to.”
Her lips dragged inward, along the sharp line of $name1’s pelvis, her tongue tasting the crease of her thigh. $name1’s head dropped back, her hands buried in $name2’s wet hair, and she felt her knees start to shake. $name2 took her time, kissing and biting her way closer, her thumbs spreading her open, and when her mouth finally pressed against her, open and flat against her cunt, $name1 cried out sharply into the rain.
“Fuck, oh, fuck,” she gasped.
$name1 cried out sharply into the rain, and then her knees gave out. It was sudden, a total collapse of the bones that had held her steady through twelve years of ladders and lofts and stubborn wiring. She went down hard, her bare arse landing in the mud with a wet slap, her back sliding against the slick brick wall behind her. Water splashed up around her thighs.
$name2 laughed, low and delighted, a sound that cut through the drumming of the rain. “There she fucking goes.”
$name1’s chest heaved. Mud was caked on her thighs and her arse, cold and gritty, and the rain was washing it down her skin in brown rivulets. She looked up at $name2 through the strands of dark hair plastered to her face, and she felt raw, cracked open, entirely out of her depth.
“You did that,” she managed. “Your fault.”
$name2 was still on her knees in front of her, the hem of her pink puffer jacket dragging in the mud. She grinned, that sharp, wicked grin she’d worn at the cafe counter when she’d first handed $name1 her bacon roll and charged her for an extra tea she’d never ordered. It was the grin that had lodged itself in $name1’s chest and refused to leave.
“Didn’t do a thing,” $name2 said. “You just felt my tongue and your legs remembered they was only human. That’s on you, darlin’.”
$name1 shook her head, breathless, and made to push herself up off the mud. But $name2’s hand came down on her bare thigh, palm flat, pressing her back down. The grip was firm, insistent, and it sent a jolt straight through $name1’s gut.
“Where you going?”
“I was going to finish the job.”
“The breaker’s fixed,” $name2 said. “Look behind you. Lights are on.”
$name1 twisted her neck. Across the estate, windows had flickered back to life, squares of warm orange against the grey. The hum from the utility box had settled into a steady, contented drone. She looked back at $name2.
“Them lights can wait,” $name2 said. Her hand slid higher up $name1’s thigh, fingers trailing through the rain and the mud, leaving clean lines in the wet skin. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. I’m not stopping now because you lost your footing.”
$name1’s mouth worked. The mud was cold against her skin, but $name2’s hand was hot, and she could feel herself clench around nothing just from the sight of her, kneeling there, soaked and fierce.
“I’m covered in shit,” $name1 said.
“I don’t care.” $name2 leaned in, her free hand coming up to cup the side of $name1’s face, her thumb dragging across her lower lip. “Fuck, look at you. Mud all over your tits, hair like a drowned rat, and you’re still the fittest thing I’ve ever seen.”
$name1 caught her wrist, not to pull it away, just to hold it there. “You’ve got a proper twisted way of flattering a woman.”
“It’s working, innit?”
It was. $name1’s chest was heaving, her nipples hard and aching in the cold, her thighs trembling where $name2’s fingers rested, so close to where she needed them. She let her head fall back against the brick and nodded, a single, broken movement.
“Alright then,” she said. “Show me what you been thinking about.”
$name2’s grin softened into something more serious, more hungry. She eased forward, her knees sliding in the mud, and her hands came up to push $name1’s thighs apart, wide, open. $name1 went willingly, her legs falling open, the cold air hitting her wet cunt and making her gasp.
$name2 looked at her. Actually looked, her eyes tracing every slick fold, every glistening line of rain and wetness that smeared across her skin. The rain fell on them both, dripping off $name2’s chin, and her tongue came out to wet her lips.
“Christ,” she breathed. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
$name1 opened her mouth to say something, to deflect, to tell her not to be daft. But then $name2 leaned in and her mouth was on her again, and all the words died in her throat. She went down hard on the flat of her back in the mud, the impact driving the breath from her lungs, and $name2 followed her down, crawling up her body like she owned it.
$name1’s hands found $name2’s shoulders, gripping the soaked puffer jacket, and she arched up into the warmth of her mouth. $name2 worked her tongue flat and wide over her clit, slow strokes that made $name1’s hips chase the contact, then tighter, faster, flicking across the sensitive bundle of nerves until $name1 was panting, animal sounds torn from her throat with every breath.
“Fuck, $name2. Fuck.”
$name2 pulled off just long enough to speak, her chin slick with $name1’s wetness. “What was you saying about your knees?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
$name2 laughed against her skin and went back down, her lips sealing around her clit, her tongue laving it in a rhythm that made $name1’s fingers curl into the mud. The rain hammered against her bare stomach, washing away the mud in threadbare rivulets, and the cold only made the heat of $name2’s mouth brighter, sharper.
Then $name2’s fingers found her, sliding up through the wetness, pushing inside her. Two of them, thick and demanding, curling against the soft wall inside her, and $name1’s back arched clean off the ground. A ragged cry tore out of her, swallowed by the rain.
“That’s it,” $name2 murmured against her skin, her fingers working deeper. “Come on, now. Come on my face, let me taste you proper.”
$name1’s hips bucked, her hands buried in $name2’s wet hair, holding her there, grinding against her mouth. The orgasm built in her gut like a live short, fizzing and burning, coiling tighter with every pass of $name2’s tongue, every curl of her fingers.
“Please,” she gasped. “Please, please, I’m gonna, I’m gonna fucking…”
She came apart. Her whole body seized, her spine arching, her cunt clenching around $name2’s fingers, and a sound ripped out of her throat that was half scream, half sob, swallowed by the rain. $name2 kept her mouth on her, lapping through the spasms, working her through it until $name1’s hips fell still and she went limp in the mud.
The rain kept falling. The lights stayed on. $name1 lay there, covered in mud and rain and her own wetness, her chest heaving, and she watched $name2 wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and grin down at her, utterly satisfied.
“There,” $name2 said. “That proper better be worth the cold.”
$name1’s laugh was ragged, wrecked. She reached up, grabbed $name2 by the collar of her puffer jacket, and pulled her down onto her, kissing her, tasting herself on $name2’s tongue. The mud squelched beneath them, the rain soaked through the last dry patch of $name2’s jacket, and neither of them gave a single fuck.
$name1 laughed, ragged and wrecked, and then she moved. Not slowly, not carefully. She rolled, her body shifting in the mud with a strength that came from twelve years of hauling cable and wrestling stubborn conduits, and $name2 was suddenly on her back with a startled gasp, the air driven from her lungs, the soaked pink puffer jacket squelching beneath her shoulders.
“Oi,” $name2 protested, but there was no fight in it. Her hazel eyes were wide, pupils blown, and her hands came up instinctively to grip $name1’s forearms.
$name1 straddled her, knees planted either side of $name2’s hips in the mud, and looked down at her. The rain plastered her dark hair to her skull, streaming down her face, and her bare chest heaved with each breath. Here, in the flickering streetlight, with mud streaked across her skin and her cunt still slick and swollen from $name2’s mouth, she looked feral.
“Right,” $name1 said, her voice low and rough. “My turn.”
$name2 swallowed, her throat bobbing. “Yeah?”
“Proper turn.” $name1’s hands came down on $name2’s shoulders, pressing her into the mud. “You been running your mouth about how you been thinking about me for weeks. About jerking off in your bed. About my hands on you, precise and careful.” She leaned down, her lips brushing $name2’s ear. “Time to see if you meant it.”
$name2 shivered, a full-body tremor that had nothing to do with the cold. “I meant it. Fuck, I meant every word.”
$name1 sat back and looked at her. $name2 was a mess, and a beautiful one: her bleached hair plastered to her scalp, her black ribbed top soaked through and clinging to every curve, her tits hard and visible beneath the wet fabric. Her jeans were dark with water, the denim stretched tight over her thighs. And her eyes, those sharp hazel eyes, were blazing up at her with raw, hungry want.
“Take it off,” $name1 said. “All of it.”
$name2 didn’t hesitate. She sat up just enough to peel the wet top over her head, tossing it aside with a wet slap. Her bra was black lace, nearly transparent with water, her nipples dark and hard against the fabric. She looked up at $name1, expectant, defiant.
$name1’s hands came down and found the clasp of the bra, popping it open. $name2 shrugged it off, and her tits were bare, pale and full, the freckles on her chest extending down onto the soft swell of them. $name1 reached out and cupped them, thumbs dragging over her nipples, and $name2’s head fell back with a groan.
“Fucking hell,” $name2 breathed. “Yes.”
$name1 leaned down and took a nipple in her mouth, sucking hard. $name2’s back arched off the mud, her hands finding $name1’s soaked hair and gripping tight. $name1 worked her tongue over the stiff peak, biting down gently, then switched to the other, giving it the same attention until $name2 was squirming and gasping beneath her.
“$name1. Fuck. More. I need more.”
$name1 slid down her body, her mouth dragging over $name2’s stomach, tasting the rain and the salt of her skin. She popped the button of $name2’s jeans and dragged the zip down, and $name2 lifted her hips, desperate to help. The wet denim fought her, clinging to her skin, but $name1 got them off, tossing them aside, leaving $name2 in just her soaked white knickers.
$name1 sat back and looked at her. $name2 was laid out in the mud, naked but for the thin, clinging cotton, her cunt visible through the fabric, dark and slick with her own wetness. She looked up at $name1, openly begging without a word.
“Proper beautiful,” $name1 said. “You know that?”
“Shut up and get down here.”
$name1 smiled, slow and dark, and hooked her fingers under the waistband of $name2’s knickers. She dragged them down her thighs, over her knees, and off, leaving $name2 completely bare beneath her. The rain had found her skin, every inch of her glistening, and the sight of her, spread and wanting in the mud, made $name1’s mouth water.
She lowered herself down, her body covering $name2’s, and kissed her, deep and filthy, their tongues sliding. $name2’s legs wrapped around $name1’s waist, pulling her tight, and the friction of their bodies, bare skin on bare skin, made both of them moan into the kiss.
“$name1,” $name2 gasped against her mouth. “You gonna fuck me? Proper?”
$name1 pulled back just enough to look at her. “You want that?”
“I’ve been wanting that since I watched you strip a wire. Yes. Now. Come on.”
$name1’s hand slid down $name2’s belly, fingers finding her slick and ready, and she pressed two fingers inside her in one smooth motion. $name2’s hips bucked hard, a cry torn from her throat, swallowed by the rain.
“Fuck, yes. Right there. That’s it.”
$name1 worked her fingers, curling them, finding the sweet spot inside her and pressing against it. $name2’s hands clawed at her shoulders, her back arching, her mouth open to the sky.
“More. Give me more.”
$name1 added a third finger, stretching her, and $name2 sobbed with it, her inner walls clenching around her. $name1 leaned down and took her mouth again, swallowing her cries, and her thumb found $name2’s clit, circling it in a steady rhythm that made the girl buck and twitch beneath her.
“I’m gonna come,” $name2 gasped, breaking the kiss. “I’m gonna come so fucking hard.”
“Come for me,” $name1 said against her mouth. “Come on my fingers.”
$name2 came with a scream, her whole body convulsing, her cunt clenching around $name1’s fingers like a fist. $name1 worked her through it, her thumb still pressing, her fingers still curling, until $name2 went limp beneath her, panting and shaking.
$name1 slid her fingers out and brought them to her mouth, tasting $name2 on her skin. $name2 watched her, dazed, a weak laugh escaping her lips.
