Laundry Lust

Katie’s lacy bits came blowing across the fence like some ridiculous panty tornado and landed on Vanessa’s lawn. Vanessa picked them up, marched over, and dropped the load on the kitchen table with a smirk. One look and Katie turned the color of a fire truck: the whole set was built for showing, not covering, nothing up top, nothing down below. Vanessa cocked her head and said, "I bet those look a hell of a lot better on." Katie almost chickened out, but the dare in Vanessa’s eyes was irresistible. She changed fast, nipples sticking out proud, everything else on full display. Vanessa hummed in approval and dragged a finger right between Katie’s legs. The cut-outs made her open for business—every stroke, every pinch, zero fabric in the way. She bent Katie over the table, licked the swollen edges, then slid fingers straight in while Katie laughed, gasped, and held on to the edge. Vanessa kept her pinned, teasing, licking, fucking until the whole kitchen smelled like heat and Katie’s knees gave out. When she spun Katie around to finish her off with mouth and tongue, Katie grabbed Vanessa’s hair and rode it out loud enough to make the neighbors wonder what the hell was happening.