Let Your Hair Down

Adria’s bent over her desk when Gizelle walks in. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Adria says, standing quick, tits bouncing under that tight blouse. “Tour company went under—zero staff.” Gizelle slumps in the chair, bummed she won’t meet new girls on that group trip. Adria starts flipping through packages on her screen, rattling them off. Alaska? Too cold. Mountain biking? Terrifying drop-offs. Safari with wild cats? Way too much. Then she grins, wheels the monitor around. “Singles resort. Beach, booze, and a flock of hot, single lesbians looking to mingle.” Gizelle flushes. “They won’t even notice me.” Adria laughs, low and dirty. “Bullshit. Every woman in that place would eat you up. I would.” She stands, circles the desk, fingers brushing Gizelle’s jaw. “Bet you just need a quick confidence fuck before you jet off.” Door clicks shut. Adria’s mouth is on Gizelle’s—wet, greedy. Blouse buttons pop. Gizelle’s bra hits the floor; Adria palms her tits, thumbs circling stiff nipples till Gizelle moans. Skirts hike. Fingers slip past soaked panties, stroke her clit in tight circles while Adria murmurs how pretty her moans are. Gizelle comes fast, thighs trembling around Adria’s wrist, slick dripping down Adria’s knuckles. Then she drops to her knees, pulls Adria’s thong aside, tongue diving straight into dripping cunt, licking like she’s starved for it. They fuck on the desk, legs spread wide, toys from Adria’s drawer buzzing between them until both women are panting and sticky, hair messy, legs weak. “Consider that the ultimate pre-trip warmup,” Adria smirks, wiping her mouth.