No, YOU Go First!

Serene slips through the door, jacket already half-open, and stops short at the sight of Chloe at the counter in nothing but a loose tank and shorts, knife tapping against a cutting board. She slides behind her, palms over Chloe’s, the swell of her breasts brushing Chloe’s back as she shows her how to angle the blade. Then she laughs, soft and low, and sets a white takeout bag on the marble. “Change of plans.” They stare at each other, both smiling like they’ve been caught. Chloe pulls a bottle of chilled wine from the fridge she swore she bought for herself. Serene raises an eyebrow. They trade glances, then the air shifts. The questions start quick—why the extra attention, why the trouble? Finally they can’t hold it. They count to three. “I’m a lesbian,” they blurt together. Silence, then laughter, then the heat that’s been waiting. Chloe’s fingers find the buttons of Serene’s blouse; Serene’s hand slips beneath the thin cotton of Chloe’s shorts. They stumble into the living room, clothes dropping in soft heaps. Chloe’s full breasts press against Serene’s as they kiss, deep and wet, and Serene’s fingers part Chloe’s slick folds, stroking until Chloe’s hips jerk and she moans into Serene’s mouth. They trade places on the couch, legs tangled, taking turns sliding two fingers, then three, into each other until the room fills with the sound of their breathing and the wet pull of skin on skin.