Hot Lesbian Sex: The Downpour

 Hot Lesbian Sex: The Downpour

Hot lesbian sex was exactly how I was going to stay warm tonight. The rain had soaked through every layer by the time we stumbled into my neighbor Sarah’s apartment, laughing at the storm’s ferocity. The door shut behind Sarah and I with a heavy thud, cutting off the world outside, leaving only the sound of our ragged breaths and the patter of rain against the windows. I dropped my coat onto the floor, too wet and heavy to care, and she did the same, her fingers pushing damp hair from her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted as she looked at me, and I couldn’t tell if it was the cold or something else igniting the warmth between us.

Sarah’s hands found mine, pulling me gently into the living room. The light was low, soft and golden, casting shadows that danced over her features. Without a word, she handed me a towel, and I took it, though my focus wasn’t on drying off, it was on hot lesbian sex. She turned away, peeling off her sweater in one fluid motion, revealing the curve of her back, her shoulders glistening faintly with rain. I hesitated, caught between wanting to look away and being unable to. She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine, holding me there. I let the towel slip from my fingers.

She had no clue how much hot lesbian sex was in store for her.

The space between us disappeared, though I couldn’t recall who moved first. My hands found her waist, tentative at first, as though she might pull away. But she didn’t, she wanted hot lesbian sex. Instead, her fingers slid up my arms, tracing paths of warmth over my cold skin. Her lips met mine, soft and searching, and I melted into her. The kiss deepened, her hands tangling in my hair as mine explored the length of her back, her hips, the sharp edge of her collarbone. She tasted of rain and something sweet, something I couldn’t place at first but I craved hot lesbian sex.

Her breath hitched as my lips brushed her neck, my hands slipping under the hem of her tank top. The heat of her skin beneath my fingertips sent a shiver through me, and I felt her body press closer, answering the silent question I hadn’t dared to voice. The couch was behind us before I realized we’d moved. She sank into it, pulling me down with her. The world blurred at the edges; there was nothing but the softness of her skin, the curve of her body beneath mine, the rain outside an afterthought to the storm building between us.

The couch was behind us before I realized we’d moved.

She sank into it, pulling me down with her. The world blurred at the edges; there was nothing but the softness of her skin, the curve of her body beneath mine, the rain outside an afterthought to the storm building between us. Bodies tangled and breath mingling, the rain outside continued its endless song. She traced lazy circles on my dripping wet pussy. Her hands roamed, exploring every inch of me with a kind of reverence that left me breathless. She was unhurried, her touch deliberate, as though she had all the time in the world for hot lesbian sex. My name slipped from her lips, a quiet exhale that made me ache in ways I didn’t know I could.

The room grew warmer, the air thick with the scent of rain and lavender and us. Her shirt was gone, then mine, and soon there was nothing between us but skin and need. I kissed my way down her neck, her shoulders, the hollow just above her heart. She gasped, her nails digging into my back, and I felt her surrender in the way she arched into me, her body pliant and willing for hot lesbian sex. We moved together like the rain outside, relentless and rhythmic, a dance that felt both primal and sacred. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered sigh felt like a revelation, a truth we were uncovering together. Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to, I was going to spend the night fucking my neighbor. The silence was full, a shared understanding that this night, this moment, was ours and ours alone.

In what ways did I ravage her tight body? Did she cum screaming my name?

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