Laundry Lust

Katie Kush’s laundry took off on the wind and landed in Vanessa Vega’s yard. Vanessa scooped it up and marched it back next door, all helpful smiles. Katie felt her face heat up when Vanessa started handing over the bits of sheer lingerie—open-crotch panties, barely-there bras, the works. Vanessa just grinned and said she’d rather see the stuff on Katie than dangling in her flowerbed. Katie disappeared for two minutes and came back wearing it. Vanessa’s eyes went wide, then her hands followed. She traced Katie’s natural tits through the peek-a-boo cups, ran a finger straight down the open seam between her thighs, and slipped inside. Katie moaned, reached for Vanessa’s zipper, and soon they tumbled onto the couch in a sweaty tangle of 69. Brunette hair spilled everywhere. Vanessa’s tattooed thigh flexed against Katie’s cheek while fingers worked fast and slick. Every little flick of tongue or brush of lace made them giggle between gasps. The lingerie did its job—nothing in the way, everything on display—and neither woman was in any hurry to take it off.