Sabrina's not going to last long at all, not with the months of going without, not with the amazingly hot way Rosie handles her. How had she managed to forget the exact texture of the flat of Rosie's tongue, or the way her fingers press and curl inside her. Tiny, breathy cries fill the room, Sabrina's hips hitching up and up, into the onslaught of Rosie's attention.

She might shake apart, she thinks, and what a way to go.

And then Rosie tells her what she wants, and it's so easy, so right. With a desperate sob, Sabrina comes, the slick clench of her cunt grabbing at Rosie's fingers, her clit throbbing in time. It feels like she hangs there forever, and then she's dazedly clutching for Rosie, to pull her up and lick the taste of herself from Rosie's mouth.