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Kylie's already slipping out of her underwear by the time she throws Stacy's bedroom door shut. The lock clicks closed the same time her second socked foot slips through the lacy fabric of her panties. They dangle from her fingers as she hurries toward the bed, one foot on the mattress, then the other, and she's just staring at Stacy, chest heaving, pupils so wide they seem stark black, flush high on her cheeks. Probably something Cartman said that got her looking all loony again, but man does it get Stacy going from zero to a hundred in a second flat. Kylie's muttering unintelligible things under her breath, gestures wildly with the hand still clutching her panties tightly inside her fist, and she shakes her head, twintails flopping over her chest. “Just—” she forces out, shakes her head again, leans her upper body forward, arm extending (the free one, not the one holding onto her panties for dear life). “I need to, please, I just need— just let me—” and then, oh, wow, then she's slipping down, oddly graceful despite her crazed attitude, thighs languidly folding under her weight as she flops down on Stacy's face. Pussy-first, that is.
Kylie's fingers tangle in her hair, card through it, agitation obvious in her uncoordinated movements. Stacy quirks one visible eyebrow, half questioning, half unimpressed. The only reason she can act this composed to begin with is due to how often this has happened before. The musky smell of Kylie's cunt is heady, makes her light-header. They had PE today and Stacy can still smell the sweat on Kylie, since Kylie abhors the school's showers, insists they're hotspots for athlete's foot. Stacy's arm twitches when Kylie shuffles on top of her face, the sudden movement dragging her lips over Stacy's mouth, slicking her cupid's bow.
Only tightly refined self-restraint keeps her from diving right in.
“I'm gonna fuck your face, dude,” Kylie says, Stacy's hair still twisted around her fingers. “Okay? I need this, okay? Yeah? Let me do this, okay?” Stacy nods, causing her nose to dig into Kylie's slit, which makes Kylie moan, hips bucking slightly, and Kylie drags her fingers down Stacy's temple and cheekbone, cups it in a stern hold as she request-orders, “Your tongue,” and “I need your tongue. Put it in and just, don't move for now, okay?”
Stacy obliges, licks into Kylie's mounds, insides wet and warm and—wet. Very wet. Whatever's got her so agitated, so restless, so excited, Stacy makes a mental note to thank Erica for it.
Kylie moans and her grip on Stacy's face instantly becomes gentler, weight on top of Stacy's cheekbones getting heavier as Kyle's entire body relaxes at the welcome intrusion.
Above her, Kylie nods, nods, nods, then bucks her hips once, twice, Stacy's tongue moving with the motion, and, oh, oh, it's one of these days, is it.
"Stace, I'm gonna ride you." No okay or alright or yeah, just Kylie's tempo getting faster, thrusts getting more precise and purposeful, intent to ellicit the most friction, give her the most pleasure. Stacy grips her blanket between her fingers, shoulder twitching, wanting to touch and move and move, move her tongue and hit every raw nerve, every sweet spot that she knows has got Kylie screaming.
But she's been instructed not to, so she doesn't.
Soon, though.
Soon.
Stacy's hand on Kylie's side, under her blouse, moving up, up, up, to cup one breast through the lacy bra Kylie pretend to hate whenever her mom buys them for her but secretly loves, if only because she knows they drive Stacy mad. She slips her fingers into the bra, flicks her fingers over the already errect nub, puts her other hand on Kylie's knee, and—
“Grip my ass,“ Kylie demands, hips moving frantically, and ah, there it is. She goes absolutely wild when Stacy actually does, hand under Kylie's skirt as she massages her soft flesh, teases her fingers along the crack. "Stace, god, I'm so close, god, oh god, suck on my clit-”
Stacy finally drags her tongue all the way up from Kylie's hole, teasingly slow, circles her clit with her tongue before she latches onto the nub and sucks, viciously, like she's trying to suck the very last drop out of Kylie. Stacy can feel Kylie's orgasmn on her tongue when it hits her, Kylie moaning loud enough that Stacy's sure even her deaf grandpa heard her down in the basement. Kylie's clit pulses against her tongue, body shuddering atop her face, and Stacy glides her hand under Kylie' blouse and cardigan, soothingly rubs her hip as she sucks her clit through her orgasmn.
Kylie slips down so she's sitting on Stacy's tits, which hurts, but in a horny kinda way, in a yes please hurte me I've been so good way, which would be embarassing if Kylie hadn't just fucked her face. Kylie bends forward in an impossible move only able to be executed by someone who's done eight years of gymanstics, and kisses Stacy, hungry and messy, like she's trying to devour Stacy's tongue and hoard her own taste all to herself. And then she slips down even farther on Stacy's body until it's her head resting on her tits instead of her head, slids her eyes closed, whispers "G'night," and is already fast asleep, leaving Stacy desperate and horny.
Stacy laughs, drags her tongue around her mouth, tastes the remnants of Kylie's release on the tip, feels her warmth on top of her body, has her cute little snores making a home in her ears, and as she begins to pet Kylies wild curls she decides this—this is cozy.