Mommy's Little Black Book

Scarlett's knees ached on the carpet when Reagan caught her. The diary lay open on the bed, its black cover catching the light like a confession. Reagan's voice dropped low and hard, cracking the silence. 'You had no right.' But something in her face shifted fast, like a switch flipped. Scarlett swallowed the words that came up next, raw. 'I'm gay, too.' That stopped Reagan cold. Her shoulders loosened, and she crossed the room instead of leaving. She spoke quiet, something close to approval in her tone, asking if Scarlett had ever touched another woman. Scarlett shook her head, but her thighs pressed together like they had a mind of their own. Reagan hovered close enough now that the air between them felt thin. She asked if Scarlett wanted to find out what it felt like. The answer was yes before it even registered. Lips crashed together. Reagen tasted like whiskey and the word forbidden. Her hands moved under Scarlett's shirt, cupping, kneading, thumbs dragging over nipples until they tightened. Scarlett's palm found a heavy breast, fingers digging in, needing to feel what was only ever imagined. Reagan pushed Scarlett back onto the sheets, tugged down her shorts, and went down without ceremony. Tongue met slick heat, parting folds, finding Scarlett's clit and circling with deliberate pressure. Scarlett jerked, fingers knotting in Reagan's hair, hips lifting for more. Each stroke sent sparks up her spine, her breath breaking into moans she couldn't swallow. Her first real orgasm hit sharp and sudden, thighs clamping, the taste of sweat and perfume thick on her tongue. The shame and the hunger tangled so tight that Scarlett barely recognized her own name when Reagan whispered it. The diary lay forgotten, pages crumpled under Scarlett's back, but the heat between their bodies had just started to burn.