Eve loves Lara

Eve’s the fresh girl—smooth skin, wide eyes, body still learning how she likes to be touched. Lara moves like she’s done this before. She’s got that tight-lipped little smirk, the one that says she already knows the game. She leans in, parts Eve with her tongue, and works slow. Wet clicks. Soft moans from the new girl. Each lap finishes with a flick, pressure just right, like Lara’s tracing a pattern. Eve’s thighs twitch but she doesn’t pull back. Her hips lift toward the heat, chasing each sweep of tongue until she’s gasping, clinging to the sheets like she might float away.