(1) Unread Message

Tags aren't decoration. I always label my stories properly, so if you're not into something, check the tags before you read, because some stories include themes that aren't to everyone's taste. Don't go in cold and get caught off guard.

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The office buzzed along in its usual post weekend hum, voices bouncing between desks, screens glowing with storyboards and edits. Sophie settled into her chair, looking over the latest batch of problems to land on her desk. Costumes were late, a location shoot had fallen through, and the production assistant for the reality show had quit mid-shift. Another week at the circus. She didn't mind it. Sophie liked the quiet power of being the one who sorted things out, liked knowing the place ran because she made it run.

Mid-morning rolled in with the usual grumbling crowd filling the glass-walled meeting room. Production heads flopped into their chairs, some younger staff trailing in after them. Sophie skimmed the meeting agenda, already picking out the problem points, ready to cut through the nonsense.

Gavin opened the meeting by indicating the woman sat across from him. "Before we start, I'd like to introduce Belle Parker. She's been brought in as a consultant on the new project, helping streamline a few things."

Sophie's pen hovered. Her gaze lifted across the table.

Belle stood slowly, pushing back her chair and scanning the room without any sign of first day nervousness. She looked to be in her early thirties, skin fresh, eyes clear, a cascade of dark hair. Her light green blouse pinched in at the waist, accentuated her bust, probably intended to distract from the fullness of her frame. Her hips were pressed into tailored black trousers. The American lilt in her voice was noticeable but not harsh.

"Hi, everyone. I'm here to get a feel for the production flow and see where we can make improvements. I'm not here to step on toes. I'm excited to work with you all." Her smile was easy, someone who didn't need to fight for attention.

The table made a few polite noises in response, a couple of the younger ones openly staring. Belle lowered herself back into her seat, arms resting loosely on the table. She didn't fiddle or fumble, didn't fill the air with nervous chatter. She just... sat. Comfortable and unbothered.

It irritated Sophie almost instantly.

Gavin led the meeting, rattling through project updates. Belle chipped in here and there. Quiet observations, suggestions for smoothing out bloated post-production schedules, a quick idea for fixing a cut that had been a headache for weeks.

Sophie sat back, her lips pressed thin. Maybe it was the way Belle's eyes lingered after she spoke, maybe the way she didn't second-guess herself. She seemed too calm, too comfortable for a stranger in the room. Sophie's chest felt tight, jaw locking harder each time Belle's soft voice drifted over the table.

She scribbled a few half-hearted notes, not really listening anymore, her focus caught on the way Belle's thighs shifted easily in the chair, settled like she belonged.

The rain started around two, light at first, then building to a steady patter that made the roof in Studio Three sound like a leaking gutter. Sophie had been pinned in the editing bay since midday, coaxing a lifeless promo into something passable. She'd almost finished when the door nudged open.

Belle stepped inside, damp hair curling slightly at the edges, a clipboard tucked under one arm. She had that same calm smile, soft but confident, not even blinking when Sophie didn't bother to stand.

"Hiya," Belle said lightly, closing the door behind her. "Gavin asked me to sit in on this cut. Apparently you're the person who knows how to rescue it."

Sophie didn't respond straight away. She turned back to the monitor and idly adjusted the timeline. She could feel Belle moving behind her, the faint brush of air as she leaned in to glance at the screen.

"Right," Sophie said, forcing her tone neutral. "It's a mess. Half the footage is off-speed, sound's garbage, the interviewee's got the personality of a house brick."

Belle made a soft humming noise, stepping forward, slow and unhurried. Her body came closer than Sophie expected, crowding slightly against the desk. She leaned her hip lazily against the edge, arms folding over the soft curve of her middle, eyes flicking over the edit.

"Mind running me through it?"

Sophie's jaw tightened. Why was she interfering? She kept her focus on the monitor. "You'll get bored."

Belle's voice stayed warm and unbothered. "Humour me."

Sophie swallowed the retort sitting on her tongue and clicked play. The grainy footage ran through, awkward answers to bad questions, flat sound, too many jump cuts. Sophie pointed out the worst bits, her tone sharp, no-nonsense. Belle stayed quiet, listening properly, which only irritated Sophie more. No stupid questions, no interrupting with clueless suggestions. Just that bloody relaxed silence, nodding every so often, leaning forward to watch, her sleeve brushing lightly over Sophie's elbow when she pointed at the timeline.

After ten minutes, Belle tapped the edge of the desk, voice low but steady. "There's good footage here, it's just buried."

Sophie snorted. "Buried in what? Dog shite?"

Belle grinned. "Exactly. You dig it out, I'll polish it."

Sophie hated how easy the laugh came out of Belle's mouth, how her round cheeks lifted, how she settled in like they were friends already. She didn't respond, clicking through the next segment, trying hard not to let it get under her skin. Belle lingered anyway, warm and solid, not shifting, not awkward.

The silence stretched, just long enough to feel intentional. Sophie could sense the weight of Belle's gaze. She turned slightly, keeping her tone flat. "Are you actually watching this?"

Belle smiled again, soft and unbothered. "I'm observing. I'm fascinated actually."

What? Sophie felt her neck flush, fingers twitching slightly on the mouse.

"Right," she said, standing suddenly. "I think that's enough for now."

Belle sat back, not surprised, not bothered. "Sure," she said, light as anything, as if Sophie hadn't just yanked herself away. "Let me know when you're ready to pick it back up."

Sophie didn't answer. She closed the timeline, snapped her laptop shut, and walked out.

~~~~

The next day she started early, hoping to get the edit finished before having to deal with Belle's annoying competence again.

Belle arrived late, carrying a milky takeaway coffee and some sugar-loaded pastries that she left in a paper bag crumpled on the desk.

"Morning," Belle said easily, settling in beside her. "Been here long?"

Sophie didn't look up from the screen. "Since seven."

Belle unwrapped a pastry, fingers sticky, half-smiling. "Early bird, huh."

Sophie shrugged. "Someone has to get the work done."

Belle's laugh was low and easy, the sort that didn't push too hard. She took a bite, chewed lazily, then leaned back, letting the chair creak beneath her. "So, what's your setup? Family, partner, cat that ignores you?"

Sophie blinked, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "I... no. I don't think that's any of your business."

Belle tilted her head slightly, curious but not pushing. "Nobody special?"

"Not anymore," Sophie muttered, adjusting a clip on the timeline. "Just me. Quiet flat. Long hours."

Belle chewed another mouthful, nodding slowly. "Quiet can be dangerous. Makes space for all the things you try not to think about."

Sophie didn't answer straight away then cleared her throat and clicked play on the edit. "Let's stick to the footage."

Belle smiled to herself, wiped her fingers on a napkin, and leaned forward, letting her soft arm press just lightly against Sophie's. Close enough to be felt, not enough to warrant a complaint. "Sure thing, baby," she said, tone light but loaded. "We'll stick to work."

But she stayed right there, close and unbothered, and Sophie felt the flicker of something shift beneath her skin, enough to make her forget the next edit point.

That evening, after the edit was finally completed, largely thanks to Belle's persistence, Sophie sat stiff-backed at her desk. She was probably the last person in the building, rubbing her eyes as she squinted at the final clip of the day. Grudgingly, silently, she admitted: they'd actually pulled it off.

Minutes later her laptop pinged, sharp against the hush. She sighed, flexed her fingers, expecting some last-minute crisis from scheduling.

'(1) Unread Message' read the notification. No subject line, no sender name. Just an attachment.

Her stomach dipped, brows knitting together. She clicked, more annoyed than anything else, already planning to delete it.

The attachment opened.

A single photo filled her screen. It was sharp and clear, a close-up of a woman's broad, creamy thighs. The soft flesh parted just enough to frame the centrepiece: her sex, closed and untouched. Smooth skin dressed in curls, light brown and natural. The labia sat in a neat, perfectly vertical line, delicate folds tight together, everything clean and waiting like an invitation not yet answered. No face, no hand, nothing but that quiet, shameless display.

Below the image, plain black text:

'Kiss it. Don't stop.'

Sophie's throat tightened. She shifted back in her chair, her chest rising sharp and quick. She blinked, closed the email then opened it again. The same photo, the same message. She glanced over her shoulder but of course, there was no one there. Just the steady tap of rain against the high window.

Her face burned. She clicked out of it, fingers trembling in a way that annoyed her, her jaw tight. It was a prank. Someone's stupid joke. She would delete it in a minute.

But her eyes kept drifting back to the corner of her screen. One click would open it again.

She closed the laptop harder than she meant to, the slap of plastic sharp in the empty office. Her hand hovered over the desk phone for a few seconds, ready to dial the HR extension. She imagined the message she would leave, rehearsed the words: 'inappropriate, offensive material, anonymous address'. But her hand stayed where it was.

It was probably Belle playing some crude joke, testing her boundaries. Or maybe one of the younger lot pissing about after hours, trying to wind her up. Pathetic and unprofessional.

She grabbed her bag, shut off the lights and locked the office, boots clicking down the stairwell with the same measured pace.

The drive back was slow. As usual the traffic was thick near the bypass. The rain, heavier now, streaked the windscreen in messy arcs. She sat hunched behind the wheel, fingers drumming the steering wheel, her mind working faster than she liked.

Kiss it.

Her lip twitched, a quiet breath escaping through her nose, not quite a sigh, not quite a scoff. It wasn't the sort of thing she thought about. Not really. Not for years. Fifty years old, one divorce, a great job, sensible car, and a quiet life. Those thoughts belonged to someone else. Someone younger, bolder. Maybe to the woman she'd been on that southern coast all those years ago. Four weeks of sun-warmed skin on cool bedsheets, trading saltwater kisses with a girl who made her forget to be sensible. The girl had been bold, sure of herself, always showing her what to do, and something in Belle's voice, her gaze, echoed that same impossible confidence.

And now... her hand shifted on the gearstick, her thighs pressed gently together, entirely uninvited.

It was just the picture, so bare, so blunt. But not vulgar. Soft. Hair grown naturally, pale skin, lips closed, neat and private.

Don't stop.

Sophie chewed her bottom lip, forehead pulling tight. She didn't look at women that way. She didn't go examining people's privates. She didn't... kiss them. Her jaw clenched tighter on the thought. I wouldn't even remember how. She gripped the steering wheel harder.

But her mind kept circling. The weight of those thighs. The soft fold of hair. The words sat heavy in her head, every slow mile home pressing it deeper into her chest.

Kiss it. Don't stop.

Her knuckles whitened on the wheel. She told herself she'd forget it by morning.

~~~~

The week moved on, thick with deadlines and stretched meetings, and the picture drifted to the back of Sophie's mind, dulled by spreadsheets and tedious edits. By Friday morning she'd almost forgotten it entirely.

But at midday, just as she was finishing a dull sandwich at her desk, her inbox pinged.

No subject. No name. Just "see attached."

Her breath hitched, hand hovering over the mouse before she clicked, stomach tightening without reason. The email opened and there it was: another photo.

The same thick thighs, soft pale flesh, light brown curls resting over a neat line of closed lips. Only this time, there was a hand resting just above, fingers wide-spread across the soft mound, not pulling, not pushing, just sitting there. Patient and waiting.

Underneath, four words in the same black text:

'Your mouth here. Now.'

Sophie's throat tightened, her body giving a strange little shudder low in her pelvis, a flutter she couldn't quite catch before it settled deep in her belly. She swallowed, cheeks warming, pulse tapping at her collarbone.

It wasn't crude. It wasn't staged. There was something about it, something simple and quiet and... inviting. The hand wasn't squeezing or forcing. It just... rested. Like it belonged there. Like Sophie belonged there.

She clicked out of it quickly and pushed her chair back too fast. She stood, headed for the loos on automatic, ignoring the voices in the open office, her legs carrying her faster than she meant.

By the time she reached the cubicle, door locked behind her, she was breathing harder than she had any right to. Her hand rested low on her stomach, pressing down, her body warm and trembling.

Mouth. Now.

Her thighs shifted together, the phantom weight of thick flesh and soft curls flickering across her thoughts. It was stupid. It was filthy. It was bloody unnatural.

But her knickers were damp all the same.

She stayed in the cubicle longer than she meant to, hands clenched into fists, breathing through her nose until the flush eased from her cheeks. Ridiculous, she told herself, ridiculous to get worked up over a stupid photo, over a stupid little prank designed to throw her off balance. When her breathing steadied and her legs felt solid again, she straightened her jacket, wiped her palms on her skirt, and walked back into the corridor with her chin up.

The afternoon dragged. Sophie sat stiff at her desk, eyes flicking to her inbox every time it pinged, then hating herself for it. She didn't open it again, not here, not at work where anyone could glance over her shoulder, where she could get caught ogling some anonymous naked photo like some sad teenager hiding in the loos. She forced herself through the minutes, head nodding along through calls, fingers typing reports, but the picture stayed lodged in her brain.

That neat line of lips, soft curls under the resting hand. Not pornographic but indecent in a way that pressed under her skin. There'd been something almost respectful about it, the way it sat quietly on her screen, demanding her attention without shouting for it.

Her mouth... there.

She shifted in her chair, thighs pressing together, ignoring the slow throb deep in her belly. She forced herself to keep her hands on the keyboard, her eyes on the screen, her expression tight and neutral.

The house was quiet when she got in, heating low, the soft tick of the kitchen clock filling the space. Sophie peeled off her heels in the hallway, toes curling gratefully into the plush carpet. Her bra followed quickly after, tossed onto the arm of the sofa as she padded into the kitchen. She poured herself a large glass of wine and let herself sag into the armchair in the lounge.

She shouldn't have brought the work laptop home, not on a Friday, but it was already sitting on the coffee table, waiting, glowing faintly. Her fingers hovered before she flicked it open, heart tapping faster than it should.

One click, and the picture filled the screen again.

Thick, soft thighs, that quiet spread, the mound cradled beneath gentle fingers, the line of neat lips hidden under curls. No face. No voice. Just her, staring at it like a woman starved.

Her mouth.

Kiss it.

The words looped through her head, steady and low, as her free hand slipped down between her thighs, fingertips sliding under the waistband of her trousers. She was already warm, already soft and slick, breath catching as she pressed her fingers low, brushing against herself with a quiet gasp.

Her thighs shifted wider, one leg slipping off the edge of the chair, hips tilting into her own touch as her eyes stayed fixed on the screen. Her free hand slid up to cup her breast, pinch her nipple. She moved slowly, no rush, stroking lazily, wine glass forgotten on the table, her pulse a steady drumbeat in her chest.

Kiss it.

Now.

Her fingers circled, her body tightening, small quiet sounds slipping from her mouth. She let it build soft and low, a warm curl of pleasure building gently through her hips, winding tighter, until she pushed herself over, thighs trembling, breath shuddering out in a long, shaky sigh.

Her fingers stilled, eyes still on the screen. Then her jaw clenched, a flash of something like shame snapping through her chest. She slammed the laptop shut with a sharp thud, dragging her hand back to wipe her fingers on her thigh.

Enough.

Her cheeks burned in the silence, but her body still felt soft and sated beneath the flush. And deep inside, the ache for touch she had kept buried all these years stirred again, a reminder of how long it had been since anyone had reached for her, or she for them.

The weekend came and went in a blur of household errands and half-hearted attempts at distraction, but by Monday morning Sophie was already tense before stepping through the office doors.

By late morning she was back in the edit room. Belle was already there with sleeves rolled up and her hair pinned lazily off her face. She was dressed casually today, loose trousers, a soft blouse pulling slightly over her chest, the buttons shifting when she leaned forward over the keyboard. There was a faint hint of some kind of piercing. Of course, she tutted to herself.

Sophie tried to focus, tried to keep her tone sharp as they worked through their notes. But Belle sat in the corner of her vision, showing softness and a full curve of flesh. Sophie's eyes flicked down, just for a moment, catching the stretch of fabric where Belle's broad thighs pressed over the chair.

Her stomach twisted, her throat suddenly dry.

The photos hadn't shown a face, but Belle could so easily fit the picture. She imagined soft curls atop pale skin, full thighs heavy and spread, hips settling broad and unbothered.

Sophie caught herself staring too long.

Belle leaned back, one brow arching lazily, a slow smile curling at her mouth. "You listening, or did I lose you?"

Sophie blinked hard, throat tightening. "Listening," she snapped, looking back at the screen, fingers fumbling over the mouse.

Belle didn't move away, just let that grin stay a little longer. Her eyes dropped to her lap briefly, then back to Sophie. "Sure... just looked like you were more interested in something else."

Sophie's cheeks flared, teeth sinking into the inside of her lip, refusing to glance down again.

Belle chuckled softly, then turned back to her notes, the light sway of her hips shifting in the chair, trousers tightening just so.

That evening Sophie paced the kitchen, wine in hand, trying to burn off the restless twitch building low in her belly. She'd held it together all afternoon, ignored the sly curve of Belle's smile, refused to let herself get dragged under again. But when she finally cracked open the work laptop, her inbox was showing '(1) Unread Message' again.

No subject. No sender. Her mouth went dry, heart thumping too loud in the quiet kitchen.

She clicked.

Same soft thighs, same light brown curls. But this time the legs were lifted higher, bent at the knee, spread wide in a relaxed sprawl. The angle was deliberate, offering everything. The line of the labia sat neat and closed, pressed in a soft seam that ran lower, deeper, a shadowed cleft disappearing between the curve of buttocks below. No fingers this time. Just bare, soft flesh, waiting.

Sophie's breath caught, heat rolling in low, deep pulses. She swallowed, but her throat stayed tight, skin prickling all over. Beneath the image, just one word in bold, black text:

'Lick.'

Her knees felt weak where she stood, her wine hand trembling slightly before she set the glass down with a quiet clink. She clenched her thighs together, tried to shove the laptop shut again, but her fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard. The image stayed, fixed and solid, inviting and unrelenting.

Her body responded before her brain could argue, the slick heat gathering without permission.

Lick.

The night passed in fragments. Sophie drifted between shallow sleep and restless waking, the sheets twisted around her legs, fingers slipping down between her thighs almost without thought. Slow, steady strokes, circling her clit, dipping lower, teasing the soaked folds until her skin pulsed with frustration. Never letting herself tip over.

Images spun through the haze, those same thick thighs parting again and again. Words looped in her mind like a broken record: kiss, lick, mouth, now, each one sinking deeper, settling somewhere low in her belly, keeping her suspended between ache and denial.

By morning she was a slick, sticky mess, knickers soaked through, thighs tacky with dried arousal. Her body ached as she dragged herself into the shower. The cold water did nothing but tighten her nipples, the ache refusing to ease no matter how thoroughly she scrubbed.

She dressed sharp, a tight blouse buttoned high, skirt neat and unforgiving, hair pulled back until not a strand moved. She looked the part but the weight of a sleepless, frustrated night sat deep between her legs.

The morning dragged with back-to-back calls and a tedious review meeting that Sophie barely registered. Her mind felt like sludge, her body still heavy from the restless night. She avoided Belle as best she could, stuck to her desk and worked through tasks on autopilot.

Just after midday, her inbox pinged.

No subject. No sender.

Her chest tightened before she even clicked. Her fingers hovered, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

She opened it.

The same body, the same thick thighs parted wide. But this time the line of soft labia was broken by two fingers pressing inside. Not stretched wide, just nestled firmly into the slit, the outer lips folding around them, glistening faintly. A single word beneath, plain and filthy:

'Taste.'

Sophie's throat went dry. Her whole body clenched. The chair creaked as she stood too fast, grabbing her phone.

Belle glanced up from her laptop as Sophie moved past, one brow lifting, mouth lazily.

"What's the rush, baby? Makes a girl wonder what got you flustered."

Sophie didn't respond, her face burning. She made it to the bathroom, slammed the stall door, yanked up her skirt and shoved her knickers down in a frantic mess.

Her fingers plunged deep, slick and desperate, gasping as her body clenched around them, hips jerking forward before she could steady herself. She barely lasted a minute, breath coming hard and sharp, thighs trembling as her orgasm ripped through her, hand braced against the cubicle wall, head tipped back.

She sat there after, fingers still buried inside, chest heaving, her forehead damp, her thighs trembling from the release. Eventually, she pulled herself together. Knickers up, skirt smoothed, face splashed with cold water in the sink, eyes deliberately not meeting her own reflection. When she stepped back into the office, the air was too warm and the afternoon light was starting to stretch long and low across the carpet.

The rest of the day passed in a strange blur, her body still humming, her mind far from the tasks in front of her. Just after four, Belle appeared at her desk, leaning on the divider like she had all the time in the world.

"Do you have a second?" she asked, eyes bright, holding a tablet in one hand. "Gavin wants that pitch deck rough cut cleaned up by tomorrow."

Sophie nodded, trying to summon something neutral into her expression. "Yeah. Let's get it done."

They sat together again in one of the edit suites, lights dimmed, the dull wash of colour from the monitor painting them both. Belle talked through timings and voiceover transitions, her tone focused but casual, fingers moving with confident ease across the tablet. Sophie nodded along, offered thoughts, but her brain barely held the thread. Every time Belle leaned forward, every time her arm brushed Sophie's, she felt it again. The pull, the heat, the ghost of her own orgasm lingering in her hips.

And beneath it all, the memory of the last photo pulsed like a secret in her chest. The fingers pushed inside. The faint wetness. The command. Taste.

Sophie swallowed, shifted in her seat, tried to refocus on the screen.

Belle turned to her partway through a section of audio, her brow lifting. "You alright, baby?"

Sophie blinked. "Yes. Fine. Just tired. Haven't been sleeping well recently."

Belle smiled, but didn't press. "Not long now, almost there."

They wrapped just after six, the suite emptying out around them, the buzz of the office softening as people filtered home. Sophie returned to her desk alone, the light through the windows now pale gold, slanting across the carpet.

The office was quiet, the sun almost vanished, when the next message arrived. Sophie knew the moment her inbox pinged. She didn't even pretend to hesitate this time and opened it discreetly on her phone.

As before, no subject, no sender, just an attachment. Her mouth had gone dry before she clicked it open, stomach already flipping in anticipation.

Familiar thighs and soft skin, but this time the two fingers had spread the lips open further, pulling gently at the soft outer folds, enough to part them but not enough to fully expose. Just a glisten of wetness caught in the light, a slick little shimmer tucked inside, the faintest hint of what lay deeper. Hidden but waiting. Tempting.

Four words, sitting bold and direct beneath:

'Deeper. Take it all.'

Sophie blinked hard, heart knocking in her chest. Her thighs clenched, pulse low and heavy between her legs. She stared at the screen for a long minute, the air around her thick and quiet, the noise of the office fading to nothing.

By the time she pushed back her chair, her body was moving without thought, driven by a need she couldn't explain away. She took her phone this time, the photo still open, hidden in her palm as she made her way quickly through the office.

She locked herself into the farthest stall, skirt up, knickers down, fingers sliding straight into the heat between her legs once again. She was already soaked, her muscles twitching around her own touch. Two fingers sank easily into the soft, eager folds of her sex. The photo stayed open in her other hand, her eyes fixed on the faint shine of wetness shown in the image, her own thighs trembling as her hips worked into her palm.

Deeper.

As she began to crest, the bathroom door creaked open. She slowed, chest clenching.

Water gushed at the sink, loud and deliberate. Taps rattled, fingers thumping against the porcelain. Whoever it was lingering, not rushing to leave. Sophie's breath hitched, fingers easing their rhythm, hips squirming in the tight space.

Then, faint but clear, the warm drift of Belle's perfume. Soft floral, that faint musky sweetness Belle always seemed to carry, just detectable under the clinical air freshener. The movement at the sink slowed, then stopped. Sophie swallowed, knuckles pressed against her mouth to stifle any sound.

After a moment, the door creaked open again. Footsteps faded down the corridor.

Sophie's fingers moved sharply, a soft sob catching in her throat, hips rocking hard as the pressure snapped. Her climax hit fast, pulsing through her with quiet, desperate shudders, her teeth biting down on her palm to keep herself silent, thighs slick and shaking, head pressed back against the wall.

Take it all.

She stayed there, body limp, knickers still tangled around her knees, the scent of her own arousal thick in the tiny stall, heart drumming hard against her ribs.

She didn't speak to anyone on the way out that evening. She didn't sleep much, either. Her dreams came hot and fragmented. Soft thighs, a voice in her ear, the weight of need that wouldn't let go.

The next morning crawled in, grey and flat and the day dragged with pointless meetings and bland catch-ups. Sophie's head wasn't in any of it. She knew before her phone even pinged that the next message had arrived. She tapped it open without thinking, knowing what was waiting for her.

The photo bloomed across the screen, more brazen than any before.

Thick thighs spread wide, one hand, fingers spreading soft, wet flesh apart until everything showed. The glistening clit, proud and swollen. The tight, slick opening, dark and inviting, a sheen of creamy wetness clinging inside the parted lips. The folds looked soft, delicate, almost glowing under the light.

Her mouth flooded, chest tightening.

Below it, plain as ever:

'Sink into me.'

Her legs jerked under the desk, thighs pressing together hard enough to make her breath catch. The buzzing filled her head, her skin prickling, pussy clenching before she even stood up.

She grabbed her phone, shaking fingers scrolling the picture away as she hurried towards the bathrooms. She felt eyes on her, her own cheeks burning hot, but her body carried her, steps quick, pulse hammering in her throat.

The door shut behind her, lock clicked, skirt shoved up, knickers dragged down fast and messy. She sank onto the toilet, the phone propped against the loo roll, fingers pressing straight inside her, already soaked, already pulsing.

She stared at the open, glistening sexuality on her screen and her tongue pressed against her teeth.

Sink into me.

She could almost feel it. The heat, the weight of soft thighs around her face, the mess smeared across her lips. Her mouth worked, her tongue curling against the inside of her cheek, desperate to taste. She imagined the slide of it, the stickiness, the salt and sweetness, the heavy scent, her nose pressed into curls, chin slick with need.

Her fingers worked deeper, curling inside, the heel of her palm grinding against her clit.

Then... footsteps. Slow and deliberate.

Sophie bit her lip, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The tap at the sink squeaked, water rushing loudly, the weight of someone lingering.

Belle's voice, light, a little amused. "Sophie?"

Her whole body tensed, pleasure not stopping, fingers still moving, too close, too needy.

"You alright in there?" Belle's voice carried, just a touch of smugness curling at the edge. "You rushed in here pretty quick."

Sophie's orgasm broke through her like a dam, back arching slightly, a big, helpless sigh ripping out of her chest. Her body jerked, thighs clenching around her own hand, a burst of wetness spilling over her fingers.

"I'm fine," she gasped, voice tight, mouth open, head lolling forward as the aftershocks rolled through her.

The taps switched off with a squeak.

"Alright then," Belle called, "you just sounded kinda out of breath. Catch you around."

The door creaked open, Belle's footsteps clicked away down the corridor. Faded.

Sophie stayed where she was, fingers sticky, chest heaving, her lips still wet from her own spit where she'd pressed her tongue out imagining the taste.

Belle had known. She was sure of it.

Her fingers lingered even after her breathing had started to settle, the steady throb between her legs refusing to die down. She gave a slow, tentative lick of her fingertips, tasting herself without thinking. The warmth pooled low in her belly again, her pussy still sensitive, a soft flutter running through her muscles as she sat there, flushed and weak-limbed.

The drive home stretched long and torturous, the dampness between her thighs refusing to dry. Her hand tightened on the steering wheel, her jaw set, but her mind spun restless, circling back again and again to the photos. She knew it was Belle. The way Belle watched her, the sharp little comments, the calm confidence that lingered in every meeting. It had to be Belle.

But doubt pressed in at the edges. What if she was wrong? What if she confronted Belle and made a fool of herself? It wasn't like she had any proof, just a parade of filthy pictures lodged in her head, and a body that responded like it had been waiting years for permission to fall apart.

Sophie shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together, jaw set in quiet frustration. She barely recognised the thoughts taking shape behind her eyes. Fifty years old, and she'd spent three decades never thinking about a woman like that, not properly. Not since that summer. She'd packed it away: the long, lazy afternoons, the smooth weight of a thigh draped over her hip, the press of lips, the heat of skin under thin sheets. She'd never imagined her tongue there again, never let herself dwell on the soft weight of a woman's body above her. Not until now. Not until this.

Now she couldn't think of anything else.

Kiss. Lick. Sink into me.

She wanted it. She wanted to follow those instructions, wanted to taste, to kiss, to lick until her jaw ached and her face was messy with it. She wanted to kneel, to obey, to be good. And it terrified her, the way her brain bent around it so quickly, the way her body gave in without a fight. It should have disgusted her. It should have scared her enough to stop.

But it didn't.

By the time she got through her front door, her knickers were damp again, her legs aching with need. She left her clothes in a heap in the hallway and stood naked in the kitchen nursing a glass of cold water she barely touched, heart still beating heavy in her chest.

Sleep came in fitful waves. Dreams tumbled over each other in dark, messy flashes. Belle's soft thighs pressed tight around her head, Belle's pussy glistening under her tongue, Belle's breathy orders slipping into her ear as Sophie licked and worshipped without question. She woke more than once with her fingers between her thighs, never bringing herself over, just chasing the image of Belle's body until dawn crept through the curtains.

The next morning Sophie barely made it through the first hour of work before the telltale ping sounded on her phone. Her heart skipped, fingers fumbling at the screen lock, already knowing what waited for her: '(1) Unread Message'.

She opened it.

The photo filled her screen, cruder than any before. Two hands this time, pulling the soft folds wide, the pussy slick and shameless, parted to reveal everything. Pink, glistening, wetness gathered around the tight opening, the clit swollen and flushed above. A full, filthy display. No subtlety now, no teasing restraint.

Beneath it, bold black letters:

'Worship me.'

Sophie held her breath, chest tight. She didn't hesitate, grabbing her phone, locking her screen, rising stiffly from her chair and walking fast towards the bathrooms. Belle's voice floated from across the office, light and casual, chatting with someone at the far end. Sophie didn't look. She pushed into the toilets, locking herself inside the last stall.

Her trousers were down in seconds, fingers diving between her soaked folds as her eyes squeezed shut. The picture burned behind her eyelids: that open, dripping pussy, spread just for her.

The door creaked open.

Her fingers slowed but didn't stop.

"I know what you're doing, Sophie." Belle's voice floated through the space, soft, knowing, laced with amusement. "Knowing you're touching yourself to my pictures is so hot!"

Sophie's breath stuttered, fingers curling inside herself, hips rocking in tiny, desperate movements.

"You can't help yourself," Belle said, voice lower now, words deliberate. "You see it... and you want to worship it. You want to be on your knees, face pressed between my thighs, tongue working until I tell you you've done well."

Sophie bit her lip hard, her hand moving faster, thighs trembling.

Belle's voice stayed steady, soft but relentless, sinking into her skin. "You're wondering about it already, aren't you? Imagining how warm and wet I'd be on your tongue. How I'd hold your head in place while you lick me clean."

Sophie couldn't stop it, couldn't slow down, couldn't breathe properly. Her orgasm climbed higher, every filthy word Belle fed her tightening the coil in her belly.

Her head tipped forward as it hit, a soft gasp breaking loose. "Yes," she whispered, quiet but helpless.

Belle hummed, smug and satisfied. "Say it louder."

Sophie swallowed, hips still twitching, her voice shaking but louder, desperate, "Yes."

The bathroom stayed quiet for a beat, then Belle's footsteps shifted closer to the stall.

"Come out of there, Sophie," Belle said, calm but commanding. "We both know where this is going. I want you to worship me properly. Be my good girl."

Sophie wiped her hand quickly, legs still trembling, heart pounding in her ears. She pulled up her trousers, fixed her blouse, but her head stayed low, her breath shaky. She turned the lock and stepped out, eyes cast down.

Her voice came out small, raw and certain.

"I want it."

Belle leaned against the sinks, arms folded lightly over her soft middle, a slow smile curling across her mouth. Thw smile of a woman who already knew the answer to the question she hadn't asked out loud. Her eyes swept over Sophie, who stood stiff and flushed, fingers twisting in the hem of her blouse, head dipped low, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

"Good girl," Belle said softly, voice warm and even. "You've done well, baby. I know exactly what you want now."

Sophie swallowed hard, jaw tight, but didn't lift her head.

Belle straightened, brushing her hands down her trousers. "I'll text you my address." Her tone stayed calm, steady. "You'll come tonight... if you really want it. If you want to taste me properly, serve me, be my good girl the way you've been aching for all week."

Sophie's throat worked around a lump. Her knickers clung damply between her thighs, the need curling low and heavy in her belly. Her fingers twitched at her sides.

Belle stepped around her, slow and deliberate, pausing by the door, her perfume curling in the air between them. "No pressure," she added, her grin widening slightly, "but we both know you'll turn up. You want this, Sophie. You've always wanted it... you just didn't realise until now."

Then she pushed open the door, leaving the bathroom with an easy swing of her hips, her smile lingering in the air long after she'd gone.

Sophie stood frozen in the empty room, wetness slick between her thighs, heart thudding around a single, maddening thought:

Tonight.

Sophie had stood under the hot water longer than usual, steam thick against the glass, rinsing and scrubbing until her skin had prickles. She'd run the flannel down between her legs twice, three times, fresh suds every time, until there wasn't a trace of the office left on her. Her pulse had been steady but deep, as Belle's words had looped quietly in her head: be my good girl... serve me... taste me properly.

She'd cleaned her teeth thoroughly, the mint sharp on her tongue, gums tingling as she'd stared at her reflection in the mirror. Fifty years old, hair streaked with grey at the temples, lines around her eyes that didn't vanish when she stopped smiling. Her skin, pale and freckled, stayed smooth with care. But tonight wasn't about looking good, it was about proving herself, about pressing her mouth exactly where it was required and doing it well.

Now she sat outside Belle's flat, streetlights glowing dimly overhead, her hands resting on the steering wheel. The address Belle had sent sat fresh in her texts, the phone quiet on the passenger seat.

All she had to do was go in.

The engine ticked softly as she sat in the car. Her chest felt tight, breath too quick, eyes flicking to the apartment door, then back to the empty road ahead. She could leave. Just turn the key, reverse out, drive away, forget all of it. Belle, the pictures, the humiliating heat that had owned her for the past week. She could delete the emails, call in sick tomorrow, never set foot in that bloody office again.

But the pictures wouldn't leave her head.

The soft thighs. The pretty, untouched folds. The glisten of wetness waiting. The simple, searing words drilling into her chest... kiss... lick... taste... worship.

Her knickers were already damp again, thighs pressed tight together, her heart hammering.

Her hand shook slightly as she grabbed her phone, and stepped out into the cooling evening. The walk up to the door felt longer than it should, each step heavy, the weight of the unknown pressing into her ribs. She almost turned back again at the top of the steps, fingers hesitating over the doorbell, but then the door opened before she could knock.

Belle stood there, soft and solid in the low light, face warm with that knowing, easy smile. "Glad you made it." Her voice was smooth, soft enough to settle the worst of the nerves but firm enough to remind Sophie exactly who was in charge.

Belle stepped back, leaving the door open, and Sophie followed automatically, body moving before her brain caught up.

The door clicked shut behind her, and she turned, half out of habit, half to find her bearings, and Belle was there, up close.

Before Sophie could speak, Belle leaned in, one hand brushing her elbow.

The kiss was soft and without warning. A gentle press of lips. Sophie froze for a second, then exhaled through her nose, letting her mouth shift against Belle's. Their heads tilted slightly, fitting better, turning just enough to deepen it without urgency. Belle's hand slid up Sophie's arm, resting lightly on her shoulder.

Sophie kissed back, careful and tender. When they parted, Belle didn't step away.

She just smiled. "I'm happy you're here."

Sophie's nerves softened, folding quietly under the warmth between them. She let herself be led further inside

Belle's apartment carried the quiet weight of money, tasteful, every detail intentional. The walls were soft earth tones, the paint expensive enough to look effortless. The furniture was sleek and modern.

On the shelves, Belle's personal touches stood out: a row of hardbacks with crisp, minimalist covers, a few heavy art books stacked neatly, two framed black-and-white prints of LA, the Hollywood sign. One corner of the room held a record player, a small curated stack of vinyl leaning against it, all clean, glossy sleeves, nothing scuffed or second-hand.

It was the kind of apartment built for comfort, the kind that said Belle wasn't staying forever but she wouldn't settle for cheap while she was here. Everything good, everything chosen, nothing accidental.

A long, comfortable couch stretched along one wall, cream cushions plumped neatly along it. In front of it, a low wooden table already set with two glasses and a bottle of white wine. Small chilled bottles of water lined up beside them. Two neatly folded white towels were stacked at the end of the table.

And on the floor, directly in front of the couch: a single thick pillow. Perfectly placed. Waiting.

Sophie's throat tightened. Her fingers fidgeted uselessly at her sides, nerves rushing in all at once, stomach flipping over itself. It had been so long, thirty years or more, and even then it hadn't lasted. Just a short, secret stretch of heat and youth, a summer tucked away like something shameful. She could hardly remember what they'd done, let alone how. She'd never tasted another woman since, certainly never knelt with her mouth pressed between someone's thighs licking until her tongue ached. What if she was clumsy, awkward, not good enough? What if Belle was disappointed? What if she laughed at her?

Her eyes stayed on the pillow. Her body was already buzzing, there was a pulse deep within. She could already imagine it, dropping to her knees, Belle spreading herself just like in the pictures, scent filling Sophie's lungs, warmth soft against her lips, taste sinking deep into her mouth.

Her thighs squeezed together, nerves tangled with a thick, lustful hunger. She wanted it. More than she could admit, more than she understood. She just wanted to be good. To kneel, to serve, to finally feel the weight of Belle's thighs pressing in against her cheeks while she licked and sucked and worshipped.

Belle's voice came soft from her side, calm and easy. "Go get comfortable. We've got a long evening ahead, baby."

Sophie swallowed hard, pulse hammering, and nodded.

Belle moved with slow ease, hips rolling as she sank into the centre of the couch, her soft frame settling comfortably against the cushions. Her legs parted slightly, casual, commanding without a word. She tapped the pillow lightly with her foot.

Sophie's feet carried her forward, knees dipping onto the pillow before she realised she'd moved. The softness pressed up beneath her, her hands twitching uselessly at her lap. Belle reached forward, poured a cool glass of wine and handed it to her, fingers grazing lightly over Sophie's knuckles.

"To tonight," Belle said lightly, raising her own glass. "To what you've been thinking about all week."

Sophie's lips twitched, a faint smile breaking through her nerves. She lifted her glass, clinked it gently against Belle's, and took a steadying sip. The chilled wine washed over her tongue, crisp and sharp, grounding her just enough.

Belle watched her, eyes soft but knowing. "You alright there? You seem a little... nervous."

Sophie swallowed the mouthful, voice quieter than she meant. "I am... I've never... I mean I have... but... it's my first time in a long while." Her cheeks flushed, head dipping slightly lower, heat prickling across her skin.

Belle grinned, broad and pleased, her tone gentle but sure. "That's alright, baby. You're cute when you're nervous." She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping smoother, softer. "But I already know you're going to be good for me. I've seen it. You're a natural. I can tell."

Sophie's chest tightened, a quiver running through her as Belle's words pressed into her like a warm hand. She sipped again, letting the wine settle her nerves, body loosening with each swallow.

After a few more sips, Belle shifted forward, placed her glass gently on the table, and stood. Sophie stayed kneeling, head tilting up as Belle reached for the buttons of her trousers. They slid down slow, soft fabric pooling at her ankles, knickers following, tugged down past her hips, over her thighs, discarded without fuss.

The loose curls of hair between her legs, so familiar now from the photographs, were just visible below the hem of her blouse, making Sophie's heart twitch. Something involuntary and primal surged in her.

Belle peeled off the blouse, letting it slip from her shoulders, then unclasped her bra, breasts falling free with a soft sway. Her bare skin caught the warm light, smooth and flushed, the soft curve of her belly leading down to broad, inviting hips. Both nipples stood stiff, each pierced with a neat silver bar running through them, tiny glints of metal catching in the low light as her chest shifted naturally.

She eased herself back into the couch, thighs spreading to reveal fully the light, curly hair gathered neatly between her legs. Her pussy, sat untouched, waiting, inviting.

Belle's gaze dropped to Sophie, her smile lingering, one eyebrow lifting in quiet expectation. Sophie's mouth tingled, her thighs shifting where she knelt. Her heart was loud in her chest as the reality of what she was about to do settled in heavy and hot.

Sophie swallowed, voice barely steady, fingers curling in her lap. "I don't remember what... how to make it good."

Belle's smile deepened, eyes soft but sure. "You do," she replied simply. "Just follow the instructions. Kiss. Lick. Taste. Sink. Worship."

Sophie's heart pounded against her ribs, fingers brushing lightly against her own thighs before she shifted forward, knees pressing deeper into the pillow. Her shoulders eased down, mouth hovering just above the soft, dark hair nestled between Belle's thighs.

She pressed her lips to the outer curve first, a light, hesitant kiss on the edge of soft skin. The hair brushed against her nose, tickling faintly, clean and warm, carrying the scent of fresh skin and floral soap. Sophie let out a shaky breath, lips moving lower, kissing gently along the edge of Belle's pussy, feeling the natural softness of the hair against her face.

Belle stayed quiet above, thighs relaxed, one hand resting lazily on her belly.

Sophie kissed up again, her mouth moving slowly along the outer folds, exploring the smoothness of the skin just beyond the soft curls. She worked from one side to the other, no rush, her mouth trailing over the neat line of Belle's closed pussy, breathing in the simple, human scent.

Her lips pressed a little firmer, kissing down to the bottom of the slit, then back up, slow and patient, careful not to part the lips, letting the kisses build a steady rhythm. The skin beneath her mouth shifted gently, heat radiating into her cheeks, each little kiss leaving her more breathless, more aware of her own dripping arousal pooling beneath her.

Kiss. Lick. Taste. Sink. Worship.

She wasn't in a rush anymore. She wanted to savour every soft press of her lips, every quiet shift of Belle's body under her mouth, every subtle inhale Belle took above her. Just kissing. Worshipping. Starting the way she'd been told.

Sophie pressed another slow kiss, lips lingering on the soft skin just above the cleft. Her breath was growing deeper, her mouth parting slightly as she shifted lower. She pressed her tongue out tentatively, the tip brushing lightly over the soft folds, skimming just along the seam without dipping inside.

The taste hit her gently, a subtle saltiness mixed with something thicker, smoother, the first trace of Belle's wetness clinging to her tongue. She licked again, slower this time, a longer drag from the bottom of Belle's pussy upwards, gathering that first, delicate taste of arousal, letting it spread across her mouth.

The memory hit her all at once, vivid and strange: salt on her lips, sun-warmed skin, the taste of sweat and sea and another woman's moan in her mouth. She hadn't thought of it in ages, but now it came flooding back. She ached to go deeper, to chase it, to drown herself in Belle the way she had once done in someone else.

She moved again, a slow, steady glide from the base of Belle's pussy right to the top, keeping the pressure light, letting her mouth get used to the slickness, the flavour, the warmth. She worked up and down, her nose brushing faintly through the soft hair, each little lap making her own clit throb, her body already responding to the steady, addictive rhythm of licking and tasting.

Belle's hand shifted gently to rest on the back of Sophie's head, fingers threading lightly into her hair, not pushing but guiding. "Deeper," Belle murmured, voice low and sure. "Get a proper taste now, baby."

Sophie's lips pressed tighter, tongue flattening as she licked again, this time with more pressure, letting herself ease into the soft cleft, her tongue slipping just enough between the folds to gather the wetter, thicker taste sitting inside. Her mouth filled with it, warm and slick, heavier on her tongue, coating it properly now.

Fuck, she thought dimly, she tastes good. Rich, warm arousal, the soft saltiness mixing with something sweeter, something completely addictive. Her tongue lapped greedily, pressing deeper with every pass, feeling Belle's body shift faintly above her, thighs parting wider, hips tilting up to meet her mouth.

Sophie's breathing quickened, her whole body buzzing. Her pussy throbbed sharply, slick soaking through the gusset of her knickers, her nipples stiff under her bra. She could feel herself dripping without even touching, her own arousal climbing just from the taste, the feel of Belle's soft pussy spread open for her tongue.

She licked again, tongue wide, savouring the way Belle's wetness gathered at the top of her mouth, then dripped back along her tongue. Yes... I'd lick her all night, she thought. Her face pressed deeper into Belle's body, letting herself melt into it, hips giving little involuntary jolts against her own damp clothes.

Her fingers itched to unbutton her trousers, but she didn't dare, not yet. Right now, in this moment, she was here for Belle's pleasure. Her own need had to wait.

Belle's fingers tightened just slightly in Sophie's hair, a soft tug that made her shiver. "Open me up, baby," Belle whispered, voice steady but thick with something heavier now. "I want you to really worship me."

Sophie swallowed, her hands lifting from her lap, fingers trembling as she placed them carefully on Belle's soft thighs, trailing up to the thick tangle of hair at the top of her pussy. She let her fingertips trace the outer lips, feeling the heat under her palms, then gently eased them apart.

Her breath caught.

Up close it was... something else entirely. The glistening folds revealed properly now, everything exposed and open. Soft inner lips, flushed and slick, the tight entrance twitching slightly, the clit peeking out, swollen and needy. Sophie leaned in instinctively, nose almost brushing the wetness, mouth open but frozen for a moment, just taking it all in.

So pretty, her mind whispered, a surprised rush of filthy admiration spilling through her. She hadn't expected it. The way Belle's pussy seemed to glisten in the low light, the way the soft folds shifted under her fingers, the wetness pooling around the entrance like it was waiting for her.

Belle's hand pressed firmer against the back of her head, a slow, insistent encouragement. "No more staring, baby," Belle said, voice tinged with amusement. "Tongue out. Face in. Worship."

Sophie let out a shaky breath, pressed her face forward, lips parting properly now. Her tongue pushed out, broad and eager, licking up from the very base of Belle's pussy, through the slick folds, curling around the clit at the top before trailing back down again. Her nose pressed into the soft hair, cheeks dampening with Belle's wetness, the scent thick in her nostrils, earthy and rich.

Her mouth worked without hesitation now, tongue dragging slow, full licks up and down, pushing in deeper, dipping slightly into the tight entrance, gathering every drop she could reach. Her lips kissed around the clit, tongue lapping greedily, her own body a pulsing mess, pussy clenching uselessly under her clothes.

This is where I belong, the thought hit her hard, filthy and sure. Kneeling, mouth open, tongue working, pussy soaked without even being touched. Belle's hand guided her rhythm, hips giving tiny rolls, soft moans starting to drift down from above.

Sophie pressed in tighter, arms wrapped around Belle's thighs, face buried between the soft legs, worshipping like she'd been made for it.

Belle's hands stayed firm in Sophie's hair, fingers threading through the strands, thumbs stroking gently along her scalp. Not forcing, not yanking, just holding her there, keeping her steady, guiding her mouth exactly where she wanted it. Sophie pressed in harder, tongue moving broad and slow, gathering every drop of Belle's wetness, lips sealing softly around the clit before trailing down to lick through the folds again.

Above her, Belle's breathing grew heavier, soft pants turning into quiet groans that rolled from her chest. "That's it, baby... just like that... fuck... you've got such a good mouth," Belle murmured, voice low but constant, words slipping out without filter now, smoothing over Sophie's skin like warm oil.

Sophie licked deeper, more confident, tongue pressing firmly into the slick heat, letting the taste flood her senses. Her face was damp, chin wet, the soft hair brushing her cheeks, Belle's scent clinging to every breath she took.

Belle let out a thick moan, thighs shifting wider, her fingers tightening slightly, "You're a natural, baby... knew you would be... tongue's fucking perfect... god, yes... right there, don't stop."

Sophie licked harder, mouth moving with filthy determination, tongue curling up to circle Belle's clit, then down to dip inside her, collecting fresh wetness, lips dragging soft kisses along every inch of delicate skin. Belle's hips started to move, slow rolls into Sophie's mouth, breath hitching, little gasps spilling out faster now.

"Look at you... fuck... face buried in my pussy like you've been doing it for years," Belle groaned, her voice thicker, filthier, hips pressing down slightly, but never forcing. "My good girl... my filthy, desperate little worshipper... god, you love it, don't you? Love tasting me... love making me this wet..."

Sophie's moan vibrated against Belle's pussy, tongue stroking deeper, mouth greedy, nose pressed in, cheeks soaked, hair tangled between Belle's fingers. Her own thighs squeezed together, pussy aching, body lost in the rhythm of licking and worshipping, every word from Belle sinking straight into her bones, pushing her deeper into heat, into submission, into absolute, mindless need.

Belle's grip shifted, fingers sliding lower in Sophie's hair, guiding her movements up the slick folds, bringing her tongue right to her swollen, glistening clit.

"Time to make me come, baby," Belle breathed, her voice thicker now, throat tight, breath coming faster. "Right here... tongue on my clit... don't hold back."

Sophie moaned into the heat, lips sealing around the throbbing bud, her tongue lapping without any thought of technique or finesse. She circled it messily, flicked it wildly, flattened her tongue and pressed firm strokes over it, chasing every needy sound Belle let out above her. Her jaw ached, cheeks flushed hot, face sticky with Belle's wetness, but she didn't slow.

Belle's hips jerked, her thighs squeezing around Sophie's ears, groans slipping into broken, urgent cries. "Fuck... that's it... don't stop... don't fucking stop..."

Her back arched, belly tensing, hands tightening in Sophie's hair as she came hard and loud. Her panting gasps filling the room, thighs trembling, hips bucking against Sophie's mouth. Sophie kept going, tongue sloppy but relentless, lips dragging across Belle's soaked clit, drinking in every drop.

Belle shuddered, hips twitching, but didn't let go. Her breath stayed ragged, voice rough as she pushed Sophie tighter into her.

"Again," Belle gasped, voice laced with greedy demand. "Don't even think about stopping... you're making me come again... now."

Sophie's pussy clenched hard under her clothes, thighs shaking, but her mouth stayed open, tongue already working, chasing the next orgasm like it was the only thing that mattered.

Sophie could barely think, barely breathe, her whole world reduced to the soft flesh under her tongue, the wet heat coating her lips, the slick noises of her own mouth working greedily against Belle's pussy. It was more than she ever imagined: the taste, the scent, the weight of Belle's thighs tightening around her, the constant little jerks and shudders of Belle's hips under her tongue.

Her face was drenched, her nose pressed deep into curls, her tongue circling Belle's clit with clumsy, desperate hunger. Above her, Belle's fingers curled into fists in Sophie's hair, holding on tight, breaths broken into ragged gasps. "Yes... yes... don't stop... fuck, Sophie..." Belle's voice cracked, hips rocking, thighs trembling around Sophie's cheeks.

Sophie lapped harder, swirling her tongue, every muscle in her face working to stay pressed in, to pull every sound from Belle's lips, every drop of slickness from her pussy. The scent filled her nose, heavy and intoxicating, sweat and arousal and something sharp that made her own pussy throb painfully between her clenched thighs.

Belle's back arched suddenly, head tipping back against the couch, a loud, gasping moan ripping through the room as she came again, harder this time, wetter, her thighs clamping tightly around Sophie's head. "Fuck... yes... yes... god..." Belle's body shook, her grip unrelenting, fingers tangled in Sophie's hair like she was clinging on for dear life.

Sophie stayed in place, tongue relentless, heart thumping wildly, body soaked in sweat and arousal, her own need climbing high just from the sound of Belle's moans, the taste of her juices, the feeling of being used exactly how she'd been told.

This was heaven. Pure, filthy, glorious heaven.

Belle slumped back into the cushions, chest heaving, a breathless laugh spilling out as her body sagged in the aftermath. But Sophie didn't stop. Her pace slowed, softened, lips pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along Belle's inner thighs, up across the swollen lips, dragging her tongue lazily through the mess she'd made. She nuzzled in, sucking gently on the outer lips, teasing at the folds, her tongue dipping shallowly into the soft, dripping hole, chasing the taste, savouring the quiet little aftershocks that made Belle's hips twitch under her mouth.

Above her, Belle's hand loosened in her hair, fingers stroking lazily through damp strands. "Good girl... good fucking girl... keep going, just like that... so perfect... so hungry for me," Belle murmured, voice low, wrecked, but still full of praise.

Sophie pressed a slow kiss to Belle's clit, tongue swirling lazily before dipping back into the glistening folds, breathing in Belle's scent, letting her mouth stay messy, cheeks sticky with slick. Her heart thudded, body flushed, and somewhere beneath the dizzy rush of lust was the faintest sting of regret.

Why did I wait so long? she wondered dimly, hips giving a little jerk as her own arousal pulsed painfully. Why did I waste years pretending I didn't want this... didn't need this?

Her thighs squeezed together, her soaked knickers clinging uncomfortably to her, her pussy clenched tight and dripping without a single touch. But she didn't care. She wasn't moving until Belle told her to. She wasn't done until Belle had nothing left to give. Her tongue curled back into Belle's hole, searching out every drop, every shudder, her lips worshipping every soft line of Belle's pussy while Belle sighed happily above her, stroking her hair, telling her she was perfect.

Sophie barely noticed the shift in movement. Her head was fogged, limbs loose and uncoordinated, each breath slipping out through parted lips. Belle's touch was gentle now, a hand at her shoulder, a quiet murmur coaxing her to stop. She closed her eyes, chest rising and falling in slow, spent waves. Somewhere across the room, she heard the clink of glass and soft footsteps.

Then Belle's hands returned, gentle now, coaxing her back slightly. Sophie blinked, dazed, breath coming ragged as Belle crouched beside her with a fresh towel in one hand, a cool bottle of water in the other.

"You're doing so well, baby," Belle said softly, brushing a thumb over Sophie's flushed cheek, a wide, satisfied grin curling across her mouth. "I think I'm addicted to your tongue already."

Sophie let out a shaky laugh, reaching up to wipe her face, fingers still trembling from the intensity. Her voice came out breathy but sure, "I'm addicted to your pussy."

Belle's grin grew wicked, eyes sparkling. "Good girl."

Sophie wiped her chin, her cheeks, cleaned the stickiness from her fingers, then grabbed the water bottle, tipping it back gratefully. The cool liquid rushed down her throat, chasing the heat away. Belle stayed crouched, watching her with a pleased, hungry look, like Sophie had only whetted her appetite.

Then Belle stood, slow and deliberate, positioning herself right in front of her. She reached out, set the bottle aside, and tugged gently at Sophie's hand, guiding her up from the pillow. Sophie rose shakily to her feet, still flushed and glowing, the taste of Belle lingering faintly on her lips.

Belle leaned in without hesitation, one hand slipping around the back of Sophie's neck, the other resting at her waist. Their mouths met, wet, open and searching. Belle's tongue slid softly between Sophie's lips, teasing, tasting, not forceful but utterly sure of itself. Sophie melted into it, one hand gripping Belle's forearm, the other curling at her hip. Their heads turned slowly, mouths fitting better, lips moving in slow rhythm, tongues gliding and twisting.

Belle's breath was warm, the kiss deepening by degrees, not rushed, just inevitable. She kissed like she had time. When she finally pulled back, Belle didn't step away. She kept her body close, her gaze steady, fingers already at the first button of Sophie's blouse. One by one, she undid them, slowly, methodically, her eyes locked on Sophie's the whole time. She pushed the fabric from Sophie's shoulders, letting it slide down her arms, fingertips following the line of skin with slow, deliberate strokes.

"So beautiful," Belle murmured, trailing her hands up Sophie's arms, down over the slope of her shoulders, pressing her palms flat against Sophie's back before easing her bra loose. The straps fell away, baring Sophie's breasts to the cool air and Belle's hungry gaze.

Belle cupped them, thumbs brushing softly over the nipples before squeezing, lifting the soft weight in her palms. "I love them," she whispered, fingers pressing in slightly before releasing.

Her hands moved lower, stroking over Sophie's belly, tracing every curve with a feather-light touch, pausing to knead softly at her hips, fingers pressing into flesh like she wanted to memorise every inch. Belle crouched slightly, tugging Sophie's trousers down, her hands warm against the backs of Sophie's thighs, fingers stroking lazily as the fabric pooled at Sophie's ankles.

Sophie stood there, bare apart from her soaked knickers, no embarrassment left in her.

Belle's thumbs hooked under the waistband, drawing them down slowly, revealing the soft curls nestled between Sophie's thighs, unshaved, natural, exactly as she was. Belle smiled wider, fingers stroking through the hair, knuckles grazing softly over the mound before dipping lower, fingertips pressing gently into her sopping crease.

"I love this... all of you, just like this," Belle murmured, her hands sliding back. One hand brushed behind Sophie, fingers finding the curve of her rear, stroking up tracing the cleft of her buttocks, making Sophie's breath catch and her legs twitch.

Belle stood back up, lips grazing Sophie's jaw, her body close and warm. "Every bit of you... exactly how I want you," she whispered. She didn't pause, didn't ask. Once again her mouth found Sophie's with deliberate pressure, tongue sliding in. Sophie let out a soft, surprised sound, swallowed instantly by the kiss.

Her lips parted instinctively, breath caught somewhere deep in her chest. Belle kissed like she was laying something down. You're here now. You're mine. The message came through in every shift of her mouth, every confident sweep of her tongue, every soft exhale through her nose as she deepened the kiss without rushing.

When the kiss broke, it was slow. Not released, but finished. Belle didn't pull back. Just let their lips part by inches, her breath soft and even, her eyes fixed on Sophie's, steady and sure. One hand stayed at Sophie's back. The other trailed lightly down her side, like she was still taking stock of what was hers.

"Now... lie back on the couch," Belle said, her tone rich and commanding, hips swaying as she stepped back. "I want to ride that pretty face properly."

Sophie's pulse kicked up again, fresh heat flooding her body. She didn't hesitate, moving towards the couch, the ache between her thighs still burning. She wanted it. Wanted to feel Belle's weight on her, thighs tight around her face, pussy pressed down until she was lost in it again.

Sophie settled back onto the couch, heart hammering in her chest. Belle stood above her, hips rolling in a slow, easy sway. Her eyes were dark and eager, her lips curled into a soft, hungry smile. Sophie tilted her head back slightly, letting her gaze wander up the body poised above her. Belle moved with unhurried confidence, lifting one thick thigh and swinging it over Sophie's shoulders, her soft brown pubic hair brushing against Sophie's flushed cheeks as she settled herself into position.

Sophie took it all in, heart thudding. The hair was damp now, slicked and messy, little beads of arousal clinging to the curls, catching the low light. Above it, the gentle swell of Belle's soft belly rose and fell with each slow breath. Her heavy breasts hung loose and full, the bar piercings through each nipple gleaming faintly, tiny steel glints that made Sophie's pulse flutter harder. The nipples sat stiff, the skin drawn tight around the bars, little drops of sweat catching between the curves.

Higher still, Belle's face hovered above, framed by loose dark hair falling over her shoulders, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted, and eyes fixed on Sophie with something that settled hot and heavy in Sophie's stomach. Like Belle was genuinely pleased to have her here, under her, mouth open and eager.

"That's it, baby," Belle murmured, voice low and warm, hips lowering inch by inch, "just relax... you're going to take me so well."

The words dropped like molten heat down Sophie's spine as she let her lips part wider, open and ready.

Belle lowered herself, the heavy warmth of her pussy pressing down, her slick folds brushing Sophie's lips. Belle adjusted her position, shifting forward, tilting her hips until Sophie's mouth was fully underneath, her pussy spread wide over her face. Sophie opened her mouth without hesitation, tongue flattening to catch Belle's wetness, lips dragging along the soft, parted flesh.

"That's my girl... tongue out, nice and deep," Belle encouraged, fingers sinking gently into Sophie's hair as she rocked forward.

Sophie pressed her tongue deeper, pushing into Belle's pussy, feeling the folds open up around her mouth, her lips sealing tightly as her tongue worked inside, greedy for the taste, for the heat. Her nose pressed firmly against soft skin, maybe nudging Belle's clit, maybe not. She couldn't tell, couldn't focus beyond the heavy heat pressing into her, the overwhelming slickness coating her mouth, dripping down her chin.

Her own hand slid quickly between her thighs, fingers pushing into her soaked pussy, hips bucking up slightly as she chased her own pleasure. She gasped against Belle's cunt, moaning into the wetness, her tongue pushing deeper, licking frantically, worshipping without pause.

Belle groaned above her, hips rolling in slow, dirty circles, grinding down onto Sophie's mouth, the weight of her thighs firm against Sophie's cheeks. "Just like that, baby... tongue inside me... fuck, you're filthy... love this, don't you? Love being my little seat... my good girl to ride..."

Sophie's whole body burned, fingers working furiously inside herself, tongue moving in messy, hungry strokes, mouth wide open to take it all. Belle's pace picked up, grinding down, riding her face with shameless rhythm, hips rolling, breath getting heavier, moans falling freely from her lips.

Sophie was lost in it, slick everywhere, fingers soaking in her own arousal, mouth completely claimed by Belle's pussy, every muscle tense, heart pounding, her own climax building right alongside Belle's deepening moans. Belle's fingers tightened in her hair, body rocking forward, rolling her pussy across Sophie's mouth in slow, filthy circles.

Above, she heard Belle's breath quicken, felt her thighs tensing around Sophie's face, the soft hair at her mound damp and clinging to Sophie's cheeks. "That's it... god... right there... fuck, Sophie... you're perfect... let me use that mouth..." Belle groaned, hips working faster now, more frantic, the weight of her pussy grinding harder, pushing Sophie's head back into the cushions.

Sophie's free hand worked between her own legs, fingers buried deep inside her own soaked pussy, hips lifting off the couch, rocking against her own hand while her tongue pushed desperately deeper under Belle's weight. Belle's rhythm faltered, thighs trembling, breath breaking into sharp gasps. "I'm coming... stay there... stay fucking there," she panted, hips pressing down hard, her pussy smearing wetness across Sophie's mouth and chin.

Her moans broke into a loud cry, body shuddering, pussy pulsing against Sophie's stiff tongue as she came. Her wetness flowed freely, coating Sophie's tongue, lips, nose, chin... everywhere. Belle's whole body shook, her fingers tangled in Sophie's hair, hips grinding through the orgasm until she finally slowed, breath ragged and hoarse.

Sophie's own orgasm tore through her seconds later, hips jolting, fingers pressing deep, thumb grinding against her swollen clit. Her whole body tensed, back arching slightly, a deep, full-body release rolling over her in waves as Belle's weight pressed down on her face, and every filthy ache inside her finally burst free in pulsing, helpless pleasure.

Sophie's whole body seized up, toes curling, thighs locked tight as the orgasm ripped through her. Her cry came loud and raw, but muffled, swallowed by Belle's slick pussy pressed firm over her mouth. Her tongue kept moving, sloppier now, desperate for air but unwilling to stop, her entire face coated in Belle's wetness, heat pressing in from every angle, lungs fighting for breath in short, gasping pulls through her nose.

Belle stayed perched for a moment, her body trembling in soft aftershocks, breathing evening out as she gently loosened her grip on Sophie's hair. Then with a soft, satisfied groan, she shifted, thighs flexing, pushing herself up. Slickness smeared Sophie's cheeks as Belle swung her leg around, moving slowly, rotating her soft body until she faced down the length of her.

Sophie blinked up, dazed, chest heaving, lips still slick and parted. Belle looked down with a wide, hungry grin, curls falling loose over her shoulders, the piercings in her nipples glinting in the light.

"I need to taste you now too," Belle purred, settling herself down, her weight pressing warmly into Sophie's middle, heavy but comforting, pinning her in place. Her hands slid down Sophie's thighs, spreading them wide, exposing the glistening mess of Sophie's soaked pussy.

Belle didn't waste time, lowering herself between Sophie's legs, breath hot against swollen, sensitive skin. Sophie's own breath caught, her head tipping back into the cushions just as Belle's tongue lapped broad and eager across her pussy, circling the clit, dragging down to the entrance, mouth working like she'd been starved for it.

"Mmm... taste so fucking good... knew you would... such a good pussy slut," Belle murmured, her tongue working harder, lips pressing tight around Sophie's clit, sucking, flicking, dragging filthy sounds from Sophie's mouth.

The weight of Belle's hips shifted above her, bringing Belle's own pussy back over Sophie's face, pressing down lightly, invitingly, the heady scent flooding Sophie's senses again. Slick, soft, sticky from pleasure, pressing into Sophie's lips like a reward.

"Go on, baby... keep licking... show me how much you love it..." Belle whispered, before diving back into Sophie's pussy, her tongue firm and greedy, making Sophie's hips buck helplessly beneath her weight.

Sophie moaned against Belle's pussy, her words slipping out in broken, breathless murmurs, "God... I want this... wanted this so badly... feels so fucking good... don't want it to stop..." Her lips pressed against soft, messy folds, tongue lapping sloppily, the salty-sweet slickness smearing across her face as Belle rocked down against her mouth.

Below, Belle's tongue was merciless, lapping at her swollen clit with firm, quick strokes, mouth sealed around it, then sucking, sending sharp jolts through her trembling thighs. Her hips jerked up instinctively, fingers scrabbling uselessly against Belle's, but Belle just pressed her weight down firmer, holding Sophie in place, fingers inside her, mouth sucking at her clit.

Sophie's body tensed hard, an orgasm charging through her without warning, muscles locking, back arching, her voice muffled in Belle's pussy as she came with a sharp cry, breath catching, thighs shaking uncontrollably.

But Belle didn't stop.

She licked harder, pressing deeper, circling Sophie's clit with relentless focus, pushing through Sophie's writhing, through the oversensitivity, through the desperate little gasps spilling from Sophie's lips. Her fingers pumped inside Sophie, pushing deep through the slick.

"That's it... take it... good girl... you're gonna come for me again... just like this..." Belle's voice was thick with hunger, muffled slightly against Sophie's wet skin, but the meaning drilled straight into Sophie's chest.

Sophie whimpered, hips jerking, nerves screaming, but the heat built again, sharp and fast, no recovery, no escape, just Belle's tongue driving her over the edge, dragging a second orgasm out of her, even stronger, ripping through her with a full-body shudder.

She cried out, back arching, pussy clenching tight against Belle's mouth, her whole body a wreck of pleasure as Belle carried on, determined to wring every last drop of release from her, tongue moving in quick, hungry strokes.

Belle's pace eased, the intense strokes softening to gentle, teasing licks, her tongue slowing until it was just soft flicks along Sophie's clit, coaxing little aftershocks through her shivering body. Sophie gasped, limbs trembling, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. Belle finally lifted herself, shifting her hips just enough to free Sophie's mouth.

But Sophie moved first, hand pressing softly against Belle's thigh, mouth tilting up. "Let me... just a little more," she whispered, voice shaky but full of need.

Belle smiled, a slow, satisfied curl of her lips, and shifted back, settling her pussy back over Sophie's eager mouth. Sophie pressed in, gentler this time, her tongue making slow, delicate passes through Belle's soaked folds, lips pressing light kisses, worshipping rather than devouring. She licked along the seam, dipped inside just enough to taste the deeper slick, then curled her tongue around Belle's swollen clit, slow circles that sent little tremors through Belle's hips.

Belle let out a low, soft moan, her body relaxing, thighs resting loose over Sophie's cheeks as a quiet, fluttering orgasm worked through her. Small shudders, a gentle clenching, a sigh slipping out as Sophie licked her through it, warm and attentive.

When it faded, Belle shifted back, muscles loose, legs heavy. She climbed off, stretching with a low, satisfied groan, padding over to the table where the bottles of water waited. She twisted one open, taking a sip before lowering herself back onto the couch, sinking into the cushions, face flushed and glowing.

She reached out, curling her fingers around Sophie's wrist, tugging her in close, guiding her down until Sophie's head rested against Belle's bare chest, cheek pressing into the soft swell of her breast. Belle draped one arm lazily around Sophie's shoulders, holding her close, fingers trailing through messy hair.

"There's my good girl," Belle murmured softly, pressing the cool bottle of water to Sophie's lips. "Drink. You earned it."

Sophie sipped slowly, eyelids heavy, body limp and sated, letting Belle cradle her, the steady rhythm of Belle's breathing against her ear, the light touch of fingers stroking through her hair. She felt safe, warm, and entirely where she wanted to be.