A beautiful Summer for Anne

Anne and Summer can't keep their hands off each other. They spend every spare moment together, but this isn't ordinary friendship. Heat crackles between them like static. A glance lingers too long and suddenly they're tearing at buttons and zippers, fabric hitting the floor in careless heaps. Their mouths crash together—wet, urgent, tongues sliding deep. Then Anne drops to her knees, spreads Summer's legs, and drags her tongue through that slick, swollen slit while Summer clutches fistfuls of her hair and moans. Back and forth they go, taking turns licking each other open, tasting salt and sweetness, fingers pumping in tight, wet heat until the bed creaks beneath them and neither one can catch her breath.