Careful Around Sharp Objects

People swear you can't trust lesbians with a knife. Norma and Eshlinn prove them right in different ways. The board still holds half-chopped onions, blade sticky with juices. Eshlinn spreads across the oak while Norma kneels, tongue slick against folds that swell fast under attention. Plates clink, pushed aside for hips and a thigh hooked over shoulder. Eshlinn tastes metal and salt on her palm as she grips Norma's short hair, grinds shameless. Each slow lick lifts her off the wood, then plants her again, wet spot darkening beneath. Norma pauses only to kiss a birthmark just above the trimmed strip, then drags her lower lip through heat until Eshlinn bucks once, twice, sharp enough to rattle the cutlery.