Not A Summer Fling

Lily isn’t the shy teen anymore who once shared poolside lemonade with her mother’s oldest friend. Now she walks into Clarissa’s summer house with knowing eyes, ready to trade past glances for present heat. Clarissa answers the door in a thin cotton dress, breasts heavy beneath the fabric. The years have only sharpened her curves. The moment their hands touch, Lily leans in, catching Clarissa’s mouth in a kiss that leaves no doubt about why she came back. Inside, clothes fall in lazy piles. Lily’s small, natural breasts press against Clarissa’s fuller ones, nipples tightening as skin meets skin. Clarissa’s mouth finds them first, sucking softly while her fingers slip between Lily’s thighs, parting her with slow, practiced strokes. Lily moans, hips tilting, then flips Clarissa onto the bed and returns the favor. Fingers and tongues trade places until both women are slick and trembling. Lily grinds down on Clarissa’s thigh, chasing the rhythm that carries her over. Clarissa follows with a low cry, her back arching as Lily holds her through each pulse. Afterward, they lie side by side, sweat cooling on bare skin, the summer still young and nothing left to hide.