Farah's breath were now coming in shallow bursts, panting as her body teetering on a precipice she'd never dared approach before. Selma's hands lingered on her thighs, the indecent pressure igniting a fire that licked through her veins, and Farah couldn't - wouldn't - stop it. Her lips parted, a shaky exhale escaping as she shifted her hips ever so slightly, pressing herself into Selma's touch. It was subtle, a silent plea, but enough to widen Selma's eyes, her sharp gaze locking onto Farah's with a flicker of acknowledgement. "You want more, don't you?" Selma's voice was a hidden tease, her fingers still for a moment as if testing the waters, and Farah's nod was small, hesitant, but undeniable.
That was all Selma needed. Her hands slid higher, pushing Farah's skirt up to her hips, revealing the thin fabric of her soaked underwear, already clinging damply to her skin. Selma's touch grew bolder, a caress now, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles along Farah's inner thighs, inching closer to the pulsing area between them. Farah's head tipped back, her long legs trembling as Selma's palms rubbed against her, stroking with a sensual confidence that overcame her completely. Selma watched her, intrigued, remembering the way Farah's body had subtly betrayed her last time - the quickened breaths, the subtle squirms - and now here she was, this poised, professional woman, unraveling under her hands. It stirred something in Selma, a thrill that flushed her own cheeks, her breath hitching as she pressed herself closer, aroused by the power of it.
"You're very beautiful," Selma murmured, her voice thick with fascination as her fingers slipped towards the edge of Farah's underwear, brushing the needy outskirt
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