Capri had never kissed a boy. Her best friend confessed she hadn’t either, and the two of them decided to teach themselves. They sat on Capri’s bed with the curtains half-drawn, and Capri leaned in first. Their lips met and stayed there a second too long. She pulled back, then leaned in again. This time she let her tongue touch the other girl’s. They figured it out quickly. Soon their mouths moved together with a rhythm that surprised them both. Capri slid her hand under her friend’s shirt and found warm skin, then the edge of her bra. She flicked the clasp open with one hand, the way she’d watched herself do in the mirror. Breasts spilled into her palms—soft, heavy, tipped with nipples already tight. She rolled one between her fingers and felt the answering sigh against her mouth. The friend arched, and Capri took the hint. She ducked down, lips closing around a nipple, sucking until it stood wet and aching. Her hand slipped lower, over the waistband of soft cotton shorts, then inside. Heat. Damp cotton clinging to swollen folds. She traced the seam with two fingers, pressing until the fabric pushed between lips already slick. The other girl spread her thighs without being told. Capri pushed the shorts and panties down in one motion. Bare, glistening, the scent of arousal sharp and clean. She dragged two fingertips through the wet and brought them to her friend’s mouth. The girl licked them clean without hesitation. Capri smiled, then went lower. She kissed the inside of each thigh, open-mouthed, teeth grazing skin just enough to make it shiver. When her tongue finally parted the swollen lips and found the hard little clit waiting, the girl gasped and grabbed Capri’s hair. Capri licked steadily, slow circles turning into firmer strokes, until the thighs trembled around her ears. She slid one finger inside—tight, hot, gripping—and pumped in time with her tongue. A second finger joined. The wet sounds filled the room. Capri curled her fingers, found the spot that made the hips buck, and stayed there. The girl came with a broken cry, thighs clamping, cunt pulsing around Capri’s fingers. Capri didn’t stop until the tremors eased. Then she climbed up, kissed the girl’s open mouth, and let her taste herself on Capri’s tongue. They lay there breathing hard, legs tangled, no boys in sight.
Capri had never kissed a boy. Her best friend confessed she hadn’t either, and the two of them decided to teach themselves. They sat on Capri’s bed with the curtains half-drawn, and Capri leaned in first. Their lips met and stayed there a second too long. She pulled back, then leaned in again. This time she let her tongue touch the other girl’s. They figured it out quickly. Soon their mouths moved together with a rhythm that surprised them both. Capri slid her hand under her friend’s shirt and found warm skin, then the edge of her bra. She flicked the clasp open with one hand, the way she’d watched herself do in the mirror. Breasts spilled into her palms—soft, heavy, tipped with nipples already tight. She rolled one between her fingers and felt the answering sigh against her mouth. The friend arched, and Capri took the hint. She ducked down, lips closing around a nipple, sucking until it stood wet and aching. Her hand slipped lower, over the waistband of soft cotton shorts, then inside. Heat. Damp cotton clinging to swollen folds. She traced the seam with two fingers, pressing until the fabric pushed between lips already slick. The other girl spread her thighs without being told. Capri pushed the shorts and panties down in one motion. Bare, glistening, the scent of arousal sharp and clean. She dragged two fingertips through the wet and brought them to her friend’s mouth. The girl licked them clean without hesitation. Capri smiled, then went lower. She kissed the inside of each thigh, open-mouthed, teeth grazing skin just enough to make it shiver. When her tongue finally parted the swollen lips and found the hard little clit waiting, the girl gasped and grabbed Capri’s hair. Capri licked steadily, slow circles turning into firmer strokes, until the thighs trembled around her ears. She slid one finger inside—tight, hot, gripping—and pumped in time with her tongue. A second finger joined. The wet sounds filled the room. Capri curled her fingers, found the spot that made the hips buck, and stayed there. The girl came with a broken cry, thighs clamping, cunt pulsing around Capri’s fingers. Capri didn’t stop until the tremors eased. Then she climbed up, kissed the girl’s open mouth, and let her taste herself on Capri’s tongue. They lay there breathing hard, legs tangled, no boys in sight.
