Pleeease Show Me!

Rachael Cavalli and Aiden Ashley kiss slow in the master bedroom. Candles burn low. Their tongues meet. Their silk robes slip down one shoulder. Then the front door slams. Lily storms in flushed and teary. “I left the party,” she blurts. “They were laughing because I don’t know anything about sex.” Rachael pulls her robe closed, but only halfway. Aiden rests a hand on her wife’s thigh. The bed is covered in rose petals they will later pretend were never there. Lily’s gaze wanders over silk sheets, half-drunk wine, two open robes. “Why does it smell like flowers?” she asks. Aiden exhales, glancing at Rachael. They have kept Lily too clean, too careful. So they speak plainly—about bodies meeting, about wanting and wetness and the small sounds that follow. Understanding dawns on Lily’s face. Her eyes widen. “You two were about to fuck when I walked in.” Rachael nods once. Aiden’s fingers tighten on her leg. Lily swallows. “Show me. I need to know before Monday.” They trade a long look. Then they let the robes fall. Skin against skin, soft light, quiet instruction. Lily sits at the edge of the bed, knees tucked, breathing quick. Every wet sound, every bitten-off moan they let her hear. Later she leans forward, voice small. “Can I try? Please?” Rachael brushes damp hair from Lily’s cheek. Aiden takes her hand and guides it to warm skin. They move together, slow, deliberate—hands teaching, mouths guiding—until every lesson has been given and the night belongs to all three.