Totally NOT Gay!

Lexi reaches forward, but Ginger stops her cold. "What are you doing?" Ginger whispers. Lexi pulls back, cheeks burning. "I thought you were sending signals." A pause. Then Ginger says it plain: she's not gay, just curious. They lean in for the first soft kiss, testing how it feels. Three years later they're in the same bed, packed bags gone, lease in both names. Every now and then Ginger still jokes that she's not gay. Lexi laughs, yet keeps coming home to her. Ginger sits on the mattress now, nerves jumping. She calls Lexi in. Lexi's shoulders tighten, bracing for the talk. Instead Ginger opens a ring box and asks the question. Lexi forgets to breathe, then throws her arms around her. Yes. Clothes hit the floor in a rush. Lexi buries her tongue between Ginger's wet folds and sucks like she needs the taste. Ginger does the same, eyes locked on Lexi the entire time, moaning every time her tongue flicks over her clit. They drag each other close, thighs sliding hot and slick until they come, bodies pressed tight. Maybe Ginger is a little gay after all.