Don kept his hands right where they were—his left still working slow circles over Sylvia's nipple, her skin pebbling under his touch, the silk of her nightie now bunched just below her breast.
His right hand stayed hooked in the waistband of Summer's shorts, fingertips pressing into the heat where her panties clung to her skin.
Summer's grip on the pillow tightened, the fabric creasing as she pulled it higher, hiding the blush creeping up her neck.
Her thighs squeezed together reflexively, the faintest movement of skin against skin muffled by the movie's noise.
Sylvia suddenly pulled away with a soft shff of silk against skin, her nipple slipping from Don's fingers.
"Nevermind," she murmured, lips curling in a smirk as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I think I have a better idea on how to cool down~"
Don didn't let his hand linger as she slid off the mattress.
