The moment Ava stepped into the dimly lit hallway of the Fake Hostel, the air shifted. A soft jazz track hummed from an unseen speaker, and the faint scent of vanilla and arousal clung to every surface. She was supposed to crash for one night, but when Luna—her assigned roommate—looked up from the lower bunk, ocean-green eyes shimmering with curiosity, Ava felt her clit throb before a single word was said.
Luna’s lips curved into a shy smile. “You must be Ava. I’m… really glad you’re here.” The way she dragged out “glad” carried a velvety promise. Ava’s nipples hardened instantly beneath her cotton tank top; she knew this wouldn’t be an ordinary night.
They exchanged the usual small talk—travel plans, favorite cities—but every sentence dripped with double meaning. When Luna reached across to tuck a loose strand of Ava’s hair behind her ear, her fingertips grazed the shell of Ava’s ear and lingered, sparking electricity straight to Ava’s soaked panties. “Your skin is so soft,” Luna whispered. “I wonder if the rest of you feels just as silky.”
That was all the invitation Ava needed. She closed the distance, pressing Luna against the bunk ladder. Their mouths collided in a slow, deep kiss: tongues sliding together, tasting faint traces of strawberry lip gloss and lust. Luna’s delicate hands cupped Ava’s jaw, thumbs stroking flushed cheeks while her own hips rocked forward, seeking friction.
Ava pulled back only long enough to tug Luna’s oversized tee over her head, revealing perfect, palm-sized breasts crowned with stiff pink nipples. She dipped down instantly, laving one peak with the flat of her tongue, drawing a sharp moan from Luna. “Fuck, yes, suck my tits—make me drip for you.”
Luna shoved her own yoga pants down without ceremony, stepping out bare except for a thin strip of lace that clung to swollen lips. She spread herself on the lower bunk, knees falling open in unspoken surrender. Ava drank in the sight: glistening folds, a slick bead of arousal already pearling at the entrance of Luna’s tight, shaved cunt.
With deliberate slowness, Ava sank to her knees. She peppered soft kisses up the inside of Luna’s trembling thighs, inhaling the musky perfume of desire. When her mouth finally covered Luna’s pussy, it was with tender reverence: tongue slipping between velvet labia, tracing each fold before circling the hardened clit. Luna gasped, fingers threading through Ava’s hair, tugging just hard enough to sting. “Oh my god, eat me—don’t stop, fuck, right there.”
Ava answered by sliding two fingers inside, curling them to stroke that velvet-soft spot that made Luna’s back arch clear off the mattress. Juices soaked her hand; the wet squelch of penetration filled the room. Each swirl of tongue and thrust of fingers pushed Luna higher, hips bucking shamelessly. She cried out, words dissolving into broken whimpers. “I—I’m coming, please, please don’t stop—”
Luna’s thighs clamped around Ava’s head as her orgasm crashed through her. Her pussy spasmed around Ava’s fingers, a rush of liquid heat gushing out. Ava lapped gently through the aftershocks, savoring every tremor until Luna collapsed back, chest heaving.
But the night was far from over. Luna rolled over, eyes gleaming with wicked intention. “My turn to taste you. Lie back, gorgeous.” Ava obeyed, heart hammering as Luna parted her thighs and buried her face deep, tongue thrusting into Ava’s dripping core. Each swipe across her clit was calculated torture, building until Ava’s moans turned into a keening wail of release.
They clung together, slick bodies tangled, sharing languid kisses flavored with each other’s arousal. Outside, rain drummed softly against the windowpanes, but inside the Fake Hostel, two lovers whispered promises of a second round—then a third—until dawn painted the sky in soft pinks.
