Coming Home

For years Brandi wore the uniform. Tonight, though, the service was over. Elexis stood barefoot in their doorway, pulse loud in her throat. When the car door shut, their eyes met; neither woman breathed. Inside, the reunion spoke in touch, not words. Later, under the heavy hush of the bedroom, Elexis dragged Brandi’s shirt from her shoulders, palms hot against fresh scars. Brandi answered by stripping her wife bare in two swift pulls, pressing her onto the sheets. They moved without mercy. Elexis opened wide, thighs locked around Brandi’s hips, as Brandi sank two fingers deep and curved hard. Elexis arched, heels digging into muscle. Brandi licked the sweat at her throat, then lower, sucking a nipple until Elexis cried out. She slid down, spread Elexis with her thumbs, tongue stroking fast and flat before plunging inside. Elexis gripped her hair, hips rocking, thighs trembling. Brandi flipped her, took her from behind, strap slick and relentless, each thrust driving Elexis against the headboard. When release hit, Elexis gasped Brandi’s name like it could hold her to earth. Afterwards, they lay entangled, hearts drumming hard against skin. Safe. Home.