Are You Sure You're Alone?

Megan Rain slumps on her bed, stomach-down, scrolling like the walls are closing in. Mom slammed the door on fun after the last stunt. Now the place is a cage. She hears the jingle of Mom's keys and the click of heels fading down the hallway. "I won’t call her," Megan says, voice sweet as sugar. Two minutes later she’s already dialing Jenna. The movie she throws on starts out tame, then gets loud and raw. That does it. She texts: come over. Jenna arrives at a run. They hit the bedroom like a fuse hitting flame, mouths locked, hands everywhere. The landline shrieks. Megan grabs it. "Hey, Mom." She lies fast: studying, behaving, no visitors. Hangs up. Jenna’s on her before the lie leaves the air, tongue hot against her neck. The first phantom ring cuts in. Another knock. The girls freeze. Megan’s pulse bangs in her ears; she swears someone’s watching. Jenna pulls her close, kisses softer, calmer, buying Megan back to the bed. Megan arches, lifting her ass. Jenna peels denim and panties down slow, kisses every new inch of skin she uncovers, then licks straight up the tight valley between Megan’s cheeks. She slides two fingers along Megan’s bare lips, circles the pink clit until it swells, then dips her tongue over the slick opening. Megan’s moan is low, wet, filthy. Jenna rolls to her back, knees spread wide. Megan drops between those thighs, tongue working Jenna’s swollen seam, drinking every sharp sound Jenna makes. Jenna’s eyes flutter; her hips snap. She grabs the back of Megan’s head and keeps her there until the pleasure knocks all words away. They trade positions fast. Jenna climbs on, scissoring, slick cunts rubbing tight and slippery. They grind fast, harder, skin slapping. Sweat and lube mix. Breath turns jagged. Megan comes first, legs shaking. Jenna follows seconds later, crying out, nails digging into Megan’s calf. Aftershocks roll through both of them until the sheets are soaked and the fear almost feels like foreplay.