Without any hesitation or a second to really think about what was going on, Emyli's eyes fluttered shut while Eileen's lips were pressed against hers. Her own lips curled a bit in a smug mixture of pleasure and amusement; it didn't matter who you were or how class you seemed, everyone wanted the filth and crudeness that came from a good fuck. She allowed the kiss to be light for all of about three seconds before her hands found their way to the collar on Eileen's coat and twisted the fabric around her fingers. Her lips parted and her tongue flitted past them, seeking Eileen's like a determined serpent. She relished in how warm everything about the redhead felt and the soft way she tasted. The truth was, Emyli loved kissing almost as much as she loved what followed. Kissing someone was finding out what kind of lover they were; someone meek and mild mannered could kiss like there was fire burning in their lips. Male or female, Emyli didn't mind because every single person was different. What she learned from the way Eileen kissed was that the girl was experienced; she had only one goal in mind and was well on her way to getting what she wanted. And Emyli? Well, she was more than happy to oblige.
Sure that the driver was peeking at them in his rearview mirror, Emyli leaned closer, pressing against Eileen's chest. One hand slipped from the coat's collar down to the buttons. Her fingers were well-versed in the languages of zippers and fasteners and it took no time for them to pop the large, round buttons through their holes. The sash, on the other hand, made no difference. While the backseat was more than appropriate for what she wanted, she also wanted to get Eileen over to the party where there was a little more room and a lot more booze. Still, that didn't mean that she wasn't going to have a sneak preview and up her anticipation. Once the buttons were free of their wholes, her hand slipped past the coat and brushed against the material of Eileen's dress. It felt like it was easily more expensive than anything in her closet, but in her experience, all clothes looked the same when wrinkled on the floor, no matter how much you paid in the first place. The palm of her hand skimmed across the fabric and didn't settle until she felt a swell of flesh beneath the dress. There, the pads of her fingers began to circle and stroke and tease all while she continued to massage and nibble at Eileen's lips.