Backstage with Bambi and Peaches

Bambi was in the passenger seat, legs crossed, stockings clinging to her thighs like they had ideas. Peaches sat in the back, lips already parted like she knew what was coming. I drove with one hand on the wheel and the other thinking about all the ways I wanted to hold both of them before the hour was up. When we got there, the studio smelled like old wood and new sheets. They stripped without asking questions. Bambi bent Peaches over the table first, and I watched her tongue slide in deep, slow circles. My camera forgot itself. I dropped it. Hands on skin, mouths open, no script left to follow. I buried myself in Peaches while Bambi sucked her nipples raw. Then Bambi rode me hard enough that the table legs scraped the floor, and Peaches climbed on my face until her thighs shook. Sweat mixed with spit and the low sound of bodies moving together without asking permission. We didn’t leave until the light went out.