Summer Fantasies

Anetta and Tarra carry summer on their skin. Warm sun. Cool salt. Wet hair clinging to the backs of their necks. They sprawl on the sand in string bikinis that barely cover anything, laughing, legs parted so the sun can reach everywhere. They push it further. Fingers hook fabric aside. Smooth fabric darkens under their touch, slick and half transparent. One draws a slow line between her own lips, circling her clit through the soaked triangle until the cloth twists into nothing. The other watches, hips rolling, cunt flushed and greedy, slides two fingers in like she can’t wait anymore. Their wetness catches the light. Each thrust of wrist or thumb sounds wetter than the surf. They come hard, knees up, toes digging, bikinis ruined and pushed to the side like they never mattered at all.