The heat is on

The air outside shimmers with heat. Sweat trickles down your spine, phones left on silent. Inside, the room breathes slower. Three of you pressed close on the bed, thighs touching, lips brushing temples. Hands wander without apology. She pulls your dress down first, palms on bare skin, mouth claiming your nipple like it belongs to her. You taste her neck, salt and perfume, reaching down to stroke her friend—wet already, hips grinding into your fingers. Moans fill the air. One body against another, legs tangled, mouths sucking, fingers thrusting in rhythm, nothing delicate about it. The heat outside fades. Nothing else matters.