No Tongues Bared

Zorah and Amabella shoot their little film, trading the handheld back and forth, each angle greedy for more. Then the camera drops. Fingers tug at belts and hems without asking. Two tongues lash and linger wherever heat is sweetest, tracing the inner heat that tightens and weeps under their mouths. Nothing stays off limits. Amabella spreads herself wider, offering the sensitive cleft that Zorah claims in slow circles until the other girl shakes. Zorah returns the favor by climbing over and lowering wet folds onto waiting lips; Amabella meets her with an open-mouthed kiss that draws an oath from Zorah’s throat. Slick fingers follow the tongues, seeking even deeper thrills they can share in the shifting, breathless hush.