It's Important To Stay Hydrated

Paige stays after class. The mats still carry the day's sweat and cedar, quiet now except for the low hum of the ceiling fan. She asks about hydration. Whitney's gone on about it for weeks. Paige can't seem to manage it, that's her story, and the words stick in her throat, so Whitney asks for a demonstration. Paige peels her clothes off. She doesn't hesitate. Naked on the mat, she works two fingers into herself, hips rolling, breath going quick, and then she comes hard enough to soak the whole strip of rubber. The spray glistens under the lights. Whitney watches, stunned, then lets a small laugh escape. She does the same thing, she says. Calls it a gift. Proof of that gift is right in front of her. To prove it further, she strips, cups Paige's face, and kisses her deep. When Whitney slides her own fingers inside, the second jet arcs right between Paige's parted lips. Paige swallows, eyes dark, already reaching for more. They trade places fast. Tongues, hands, legs tangled. Every time one tips over the edge, the other is ready to catch what spills. Wet on their chins, wet on their thighs. They drink and they fuck until the studio smells like sweat, rubber, and sex. Refreshment served straight from the source, given and taken without a word wasted.