Anna didn’t bother drying off completely after her shower. The towel hit the tile with a wet slap. Skin still hot and damp, droplets sliding down her spine, between her breasts, pooling at the small of her back. She leaned against the sink, palms flat on the cool porcelain, legs parted just enough. The mirror was already fogging up, turning the room into a hazy, warm blur.
She slid one hand down between her thighs. Middle finger circling her c**t slow—teasing—then dipping lower, pushing inside herself. Two fingers now. Easy slide. She was soaked again, had been since morning, since Riley’s tongue and the taste of herself on Riley’s lips. She f****d in and out lazy, thumb brushing her c**t on every upstroke, watching her own hazy reflection bite her lip.
The bathroom door opened.
Riley s
