Sawyer is groaning from her chest. Every time she presses back, her eyes roll back in her head and she takes a shaky breath in. Natasha pulls herself out of her thoughts and looks at Sawyer’s face to try and guess what she wants. Natasha draws a blank. Natasha looks back at the mirror. It’s getting flecked and splattered with Sawyer’s wetness. Natasha’s lightheaded, her fingers feel weightless. She makes herself stalk over to Sawyer’s drawer and grabs Sawyer’s usual toy.
She crosses her bedroom again, watching herself. She appreciates her body, craggy and grizzled as it is, compared to Sawyer’s plush youth. She likes the way her breasts sit a bit lower on her chest these days, but look a little rounder and more relaxed for it.
Sawyer’s fingers are digging into the carpet, and she whines as Natasha’s feet come to rest beside them.
Natasha crowds her deliberately until Sawyer is sitting back on her thighs, arching her back to keep the dildo inside her. Natasha spreads her feet apart further, bending her knees to give Sawyer a bit of assistance.
Sawyer gets the point immediately, moaning into Natasha’s pussy. Natasha looks in the mirror and sees her own blown pupils, the sweat running down the side of her face. Her hand squeezes tight around the toy. It doesn’t take very long before Natasha’s knees are too weak to keep them bent like she’s bending them. She looks down to where Sawyer is still moving her hips back into the mirror. Natasha can’t straighten up, and still have Sawyer’s mouth on her, without Sawyer pulling off the toy. She doesn’t want Sawyer to have to do that.
Natasha straightens her knees, adjusts her grip on the other dildo so she’s holding it at the base. Sawyer whines at the loss of Natasha’s pussy against her face. Her mouth is shiny and swollen and the sight of it gives Natasha the shivers as she pushes the plastic between her lips. Sawyer groans around it, and Natasha keeps up the firm pressure on the base, forcing more into Sawyer’s mouth until she makes a gurgling noise, tilts her chin up to try and open her throat. Natasha pulls back. She watches Sawyer’s watering eyes for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, she rocks the toy past Sawyer’s teeth again. Natasha needs to fuck Sawyer. She can feel it tight across her shoulders and back. She pumps the plastic in and out of Sawyer’s mouth, angling it up and back. Natasha’s dripping. Sawyer sucks deeply, but digs her teeth firmly into the toy at the base.
Sawyer has been sufficiently distracted by Natasha fucking her mouth that her hips have stilled. Natasha takes a step back.
“That doesn’t look like you fucking yourself properly to me. Go on, show me how you like it.”
Sawyer starts bouncing back onto the dildo, thighs splayed between Natasha’s feet. Her thrusts are forceful enough that the magnet holding the door shut releases, letting the door thump. On the bookshelf next to the closet there’s a wire stand weighed down by all of Sawyer’s necklaces, and they start to rattle, joining the slam of the door, Sawyer’s moans and Natasha’s deep breaths in the dark of the bedroom. Suddenly there’s a sucking noise, a faint, dull thump, and a whine in close succession.
“Ugh, it came unstuck.”
Sawyer twists around to press the suction cup to the mirror, lining up with the round mark that’s already there. She kneels before it again, moving her knees further apart, flattening her hips, to try and get the toy at the right height for her.
It pops off the mirror again, flopping on the carpet.
“Close your fucking eyes, Natasha. Ugh, it’s got one of my hairs stuck to it now.”
Natasha keeps her eyes shut until she’s told to open them again. When she does, she is stunned anew by Sawyer. She’s sitting back on her haunches, nostrils flared and chest flushed with arousal.
Natasha takes one long, blonde curl, lets it slip through her loosely formed first.
“I love you,“ Natasha says.
Sawyer’s smile is instantaneous. She says, “I love you too. Now, are you going to finish me off, or am I?”
Natasha smiles calmly. “Oh, I want to see how you would usually finish yourself off on a night where I'm stuck with Lucia I’m listening to some white guy do a spoken word piece about how racism is probably a bad idea.”
Sawyer snorts a laugh, moves her hand over and underneath her stomach to touch herself. Natasha stands over Sawyer, watching her as she continues to move back against the mirror. Natasha holds her hand out, catching the little golden strands of Sawyer’s hair as they brush past her fingers.
Sawyer is unraveling now. She flops forward, catching herself on her hands. Her noises get higher and higher in pitch. The closet door bangs, her jewelry clatters. She folds her arms and lies her face against the carpet. Natasha can feel Sawyer’s hot breath on her ankle. By instinct, she raises her foot and plants it on the top of Sawyer’s shoulder, keeping her low to the ground. Natasha presses down, letting a little more of her weight rest on Sawyer’s broad back. Sawyer gives one shout, and finally comes, squashing her ass back against the mirror so hard that it takes up even more of the glass.
Natasha falls to her knees, pulls a boneless and sweaty Sawyer into her arms. The dildo stays fixed on the glass, jutting outwards, dripping on the carpet. It somehow looks more obscene than when Sawyer was sliding her pussy up and down it. When Sawyer’s heart has stopped thumping, she
