Fuck

She drives both hands deeper, a slick, wet sound filling the quiet yard as she works herself open. The twin pressure of her fingers inside her pussy and the one pressing into her ass makes her eyes roll back, her mouth falling open in a long, unbroken moan. She doesn't bother to stifle it anymore. The yard is fenced. The house is dark. No one is here to hear but the stars and the hum of the pool filter.

Her hips begin to move in a rolling, circular rhythm, fucking herself on her own fingers. The slickness from her earlier release coats her thighs, making every slide obscene and easy. She curls her fingers inside, pressing against that soft spot, and the pressure builds again, hot and insistent, coiling low in her belly.

"Fuck—" she gasps, the word torn from her throat. Her toes curl, her back arching off the lounger, and she fucks herself faster, both hands working in counterpoint. The wet sounds grow louder, mixing with her moans, echoing off the pool deck.

She feels the pressure crest, her muscles clenching around her fingers, and she lets go completely. Her mouth opens wide in a soundless cry as a gush of warm fluid bursts from her, splattering across the lounger and dripping down her thighs. She moans loudly, a raw, shameless sound that carries across the yard, her body shuddering through the release. Her fingers stay buried inside her, working her through every wave, until the last tremor fades and she collapses back against the lounger, gasping, soaked, and utterly spent.

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