Heather’s gaze flicks over to Meredith, a cruel smirk playing at her lips. An anticipation, a need. But he didn’t linger long. Heather pressed a tender kiss to Meredith’s inner thigh, a surprisingly gentle gesture after the storm of lust that had just passed between them. In the center of the room, a plush velvet couch in dark wine-colored hue faced two tufted armchairs set in front of a coffee table piled high with glossy fashion magazines and two dog-eared notebooks sporting the sorority’s Greek letters embossed in gold. She felt the heat and dampness through the flimsy fabric. Meredith’s terrified gaze darted between Heather and the hulking figures of the men, her heart pounding wildly in her heaving chest. I don’t know if I like it.” She said. Her hips buck involuntarily, torn between the instinct to escape and the traitorous urge to grind against Heather’s skillful mouth. And Heather intended to use every second to unravel the gorgeous girl before her. “Look closer, gentlemen. “Fuck you! The growing dampness of Meredith’s panties was palpable, the fabric clung and stretched with each passage of Heather’s fingers.
