Sexual Favors

Sierra missed rent again. Her landlord sends his daughter Veronica—same age, hotter than sin—to collect what she owes. Veronica's been there, broke and horny. She lets herself in like she owns the place. Sierra watches her ass walk across the room and her face gives everything away. Veronica catches the look and smiles like a girl who knows exactly what she has. She stretches out on Sierra's bed, shorts riding up, and tells her to rub her feet. Sierra's hands shake for two whole seconds then find rhythm. When Veronica peels off her top, Sierra almost cracks in half holding back. They both know it's only a matter of time. Veronica's voice gets low, asks Sierra to take the pants off too. Now she's got Sierra's face hovering between her thighs, pulling long straps of spit from tongue to palm and pushing two wet fingers straight inside. Sierra rides the rhythm without being told. Every grind of their hips locks them tighter, every slick slide of fingers another layer peeled. Their mouths trade spots until the room smells like skin and chlorine. The second their tongues hit swollen clit the moan gets punched out of both of them, loud enough for the open window. Hips jerk, legs lock, and they both blow like long-fuse fireworks—no quiet end, just soaked sheets, wet panting, sore fingers, one perfect deferred afternoon. Ride the rent, pay in pleasure.