Girly love

Lilly hasn’t touched her girlfriend in weeks. The moment they step inside, talking dies. Lilly pushes her against the wall and kisses her hard. Hands slide under fabric, tear buttons loose. Breathing turns ragged. She drags her to the bedroom, strips her in quick movements, mouth chasing every inch of skin. The other girl shoves her onto the bed and climbs on top. They press together, slick and warm. Fingers find wet heat, slide in deep, curl just right. Hips grind against each other in a desperate rhythm. One of them comes first—sharp, shaking, followed seconds later by the other, louder, bodies locked tight. Aftershocks roll through them. Sweat sticks skin to skin. They stay tangled, still moving slowly, taking what they’ve waited weeks to reclaim.