Lounging at the pool

Two women stretch out by the private pool. Blonde Anita, darker-haired Lucie. Bare skin catches the sun. They twist around each other without hurry, mouths meeting, hands wandering. Anita runs her tongue along Lucie’s collarbone and tastes salt. Lucie slips two fingers into the wet heat between Anita’s thighs, curling them until the blonde’s hips jerk. The lounger creaks as they shift, one above the other now, the world reduced to breath, slick fingers, low sounds carried away by water lapping against tile. Anita bites down on a stifled cry when Lucie spreads her wider; they laugh into each other’s mouths, limbs wound tight, chasing every spark of pleasure the quiet afternoon will allow.