Dear Diary

Jayden's mind runs wild again, conjuring something she's never managed before. Her mother built the princess nook years ago—crisp white sheets, crooked vines crawling across the wall, sunlight pooling through the narrow window where she writes. Today her diary holds something flesh and blood: Jenna Lohan, the first human she's ever pulled into her daydream. Jenna appears already hungry. She drops on top of Jayden, mouth open, hands sliding under the thin nightdress. Jayden hooks her legs around Jenna's waist and lets herself be undressed in one impatient tug. Their clothes hit the floor; warm skin meets warm skin. Jayden bites back a sound as Jenna's lips drag down her throat, then lower, until Jenna is kneeling between her knees and licking in one long, slow stroke. The stud in Jenna's tongue clicks against Jayden's clit with every pass, sharp and wet. Jayden's heels dig into the mattress. When she can take no more without coming, she twists, flips Jenna onto her back, and climbs over her face. She keeps one hand working inside while she tastes Jenna, quick shallow flicks followed by deep, greedy strokes. Jenna moans loud and shakes, coming around Jayden's fingers. They shift back into each other, mouths and tongues and fingers everywhere. After minutes Jayden starts to unravel, thighs clenching, whole body jerking against Jenna's mouth. She rides it out, then drives Jenna to a second ragged climax, their mouths meeting over glistening nipples in the quiet after. A single blink and Jenna vanishes. The vine-shadowed light remains; Jayden lies there panting, pen still uncapped in her hand.