Girls In White 2011 Part 1, Scene 2

India studies Ella from across the room, eyes sliding over the bare strip of waist between top and skirt. The girl looks good. Almost ready. Almost. “Hold still,” she says, and comes close enough for Ella to catch the faint scent of her perfume, roses crushed under silk sheets. With two fingers she tugs the neckline lower, brushes a stray lock of hair behind Ella’s ear, lets the touch linger a heartbeat too long. The touch travels down the column of Ella’s neck, across the swell of her breast. “Good,” India breathes. “But you need one more thing.” She nods to Zoey, waiting at the edge of the light. The redhead steps forward, already bare except for white lace panties that cut high on each hip. No words. Just hands. Zoey reaches for Ella’s wrist, draws her knuckles over the swell of her own breast until the nipple stiffens beneath the touch. Ella swallows. Heat flares low in her belly. Zoey smiles, small and knowing, and slips the panties off one smooth thigh, letting them fall to the floor. She guides Ella’s hand between her legs, wet and warm, and lets her feel. Two slender fingers slide inside with the soft sound of silk parting, Zoey arching once before the shy flicker of her lashes hides it. “That,” India whispers, “is how a girl should look before the party. Wet. Ready. Wanting.” Ella draws her hand back. It glistens. She brings it to her own mouth without thinking, tastes salt and the tang of another woman. Zoey’s lips part at the sight, a faint moan slipping out before she can bite it back. India watches, satisfied, then straightens Ella’s top again, higher this time, a deliberate tease of barely-covered skin. “Perfect,” she says, and steps away, leaving both girls flushed and aching beneath their immaculate white dresses.