Better Luck

Adriana walked out on her boyfriend and straight into Abigail's living room. Abigail poured two glasses of wine and said what she'd been holding back for months. They should stop fucking men who wrecked them both and fuck each other instead. Adriana's glass paused halfway to her lips. She expected comfort, maybe a few old stories they already knew by heart. Instead Abigail laid it out plainly. No surprise the guys always left them bruised. The only constant worth keeping was the two of them. A moment stretched between them. Adriana studied the woman who knew every one of her scars. Then she set the glass down, stepped closer, and kissed Abigail without another word. Abigail answered by tugging Adriana's top over her head and sliding both hands under her bra. Their tongues met hot and urgent. Adriana arched when Abigail's thumbs circled her nipples. They dropped onto the couch together. Adriana tugged Abigail's skirt up, found the slick heat between her thighs, and pushed two fingers inside her. Abigail moaned into Adriana's mouth while her hips rode the rhythm. Bodies twisted. Adriana went down, tongue flattening over Abigail's swollen clit until Abigail came, thighs shaking. Before she caught her breath, Abigail flipped Adriana onto her back, spread her open, and licked her slowly until Adriana cried out, fingers knotted in Abigail's hair. Still breathless, Adriana climbed over Abigail, grinding her cunt against Abigail's until they both came again, slick and loud. They didn't talk much after. Just heavy breathing, sweaty skin sticking together, the unspoken answer that they'd keep going.