Touch Me

Heat rolls off the pool tiles. Vicky’s hand glides the first bead of oil across Inna’s shoulder, slow, palm flat. Elena watches, pupils tight, then reaches over, drizzles more across Inna’s breasts, thumbs the oil until it shines. Hands slide lower, part glistening thighs. Tongues follow—wet clicks, soft suction—three bodies shifting, pressing, trading places. Fingers curl inside slick heat, hips rock, mouths meet in greedy kisses. Someone gasps, a broken little moan, then another louder until the rhythm breaks into sharp, shaking release.