Missing: Part One

Lesbians still move through the shadows. Blooming Tea's on the black market. And for six months straight, women keep vanishing. No bodies. Just questions. Who's taking them, and who's next? Lara Bradford's chasing the story. Riley knows the city, knows the angles, knows how to dig without getting caught. She's already deep in it—her name carries weight when she knocks on doors. A husband on TV begs for his wife Isadora's return. The cops keep tripping over the same clues: a pro-queer cell grabbing straight women and turning them. Lara and Sandra dodge AWAL agents, stealing kisses in alleys, in bathroom stalls, wherever they won't be seen. They have to touch each other to remember they're real. Sandra moves first—hands under Lara's shirt, teeth at her neck. Lara gives in fast. Mouths lock, tongues fighting. Clothes hit the floor. Lara spreads Sandra open on the bed and sucks her cunt until Sandra's swearing and shaking, legs clamped around her head. They switch. Sandra buries her face between Lara's thighs, tongue working in fast strokes, fingers sliding in to the knuckle while Lara grips the sheets and curses. Then they grind—slick cunts sliding together, hips snapping, clit against clit until the orgasms hit raw and loud. But they keep going. Lara pins Sandra again, eats her harder, three fingers driving deep while Sandra moans into the pillow. They finish shaking, sweaty, guilty and thrilled at once—two wanted women who just broke the law with their own bodies and loved every second. To be continued...