In The Middle Of The Night

Morning light slides across the sheets like it got the joke early. Nicole wakes up first. She's got Aften tucked in front of her, barely dressed, and something about the half-light and the curve of that ass makes the pressure build fast. One hand sneaks under the blanket, starts circling between her legs before her brain gives permission. Nicole bites the pillow, keeps the breathy sounds to herself, but the mattress has opinions. Small shifts, a stifled little gasp. Aften stirs. Sees. Thinks a second, then her own fingers disappear between her thighs. Her breath catches. Neither of them says anything for a beat; they both know exactly what's happening. Eyes meet. Blankets flip. Tongues slide together, warm and wet, and legs tangle while hands explore dripping cunts. Hips grind, thighs lock around waist, and the morning feels less polite now. Fantasy bleeding straight into fingers, mouths, and laughter that sounds a little filthy. They turn the leftover heat from last night's cuddles into something urgent and naked and very mutual.