A little late getting home after a hard day, Meghan was eager for Beth’s comforting embrace and hurried to the bedroom. No sign of Beth but for her scrubs haphazardly draped over the chair. Must be in the shower, thought Meghan, but the bathroom was empty. The mirror was slightly fogged, and a towel lay on the floor, so Beth must have had that shower. Meghan tried the office. No Beth. Not in the guest bedroom, either. Meghan went to the door leading to the back patio and there was Beth, naked, seated on the old iron bench, her feet propped on the tiny table, a hand between her legs. Meghan watched Beth’s masturbation.

The strokes were languid at first, two fingers circling slowly, but then became more pronounced, more insistent. Abruptly Beth’s body seized then shuddered. Her shoulders slumped. Her breath slowed. A faint flush appeared between her breasts. After perhaps as much as a minute, her hand lifted, her fingers brushed beneath her nose. Beth took a deep breath, then tasted her fingertips.

“Whatcha doin?” Meghan said casually, opening the patio door and stepping toward her lover.

“Oh, nothing,” Beth claimed.

“Scootch over,” Meghan said, and she sat beside Beth, took her hand, and tasted the fingers.

“Nice nothing,” Meghan said. “I could use some of that.”

Her hand went to Beth’s sex. Her fingers dipped into the moist slot while her mouth found Beth’s. Gentle at first, the kiss soon became voracious, the fingerfuck equally so. Thumb pressure on Beth’s clitoris brought about the climax. With a breathless gasp, Beth came, her cunt clamping again and again.

When Beth’s orgasm at last abated, Meghan withdrew her fingers and tasted the fresh girl cum.

“Hard day?” Meghan asked, taking Beth by the hand and leading her to the shower.