The voice of the sea

Some claim a seashell carries the ocean’s murmur. Aliza half-believes it; Pandora calls it a cheap trick. Mid-argument Pandora peers into Aliza’s bright, combative eyes and picks a new way to end the debate. She brushes a soft kiss across Aliza’s lips, takes both her hands, and slides them over the warm curves of Aliza’s waist and hips. Aliza’s protest dies on a sigh. She arches into the touch, letting Pandora’s palms roam freely across her smooth, yielding flesh.