Lovers

Amelia steps inside Fawn's apartment and the air thickens fast. A breath later they are kissing, warm lamplight and late sun catching on skin and hair, heat rising between them while yesterday’s date lingers in every touch. Fawn’s fingers slip the scrap of cotton off Amelia’s hips, then her mouth finds the dark, soft curls between her thighs. She tongues slowly at first, tasting, then slips two fingers in and curls them just so. The wet sound of it blends with Amelia’s open-mouthed breath. Later Fawn stretches over the beanbag, knees wide, and Amelia kneels behind. Her tongue works deeper, slower, while their fingers lace together for balance. Every slow lick keeps the moment stretched and hot, neither of them rushing, just mouths and hands and the steady, shared pull of pleasure.