A Woman's Touch

Sarah stared at her phone like it punched her. Break-up text. Cold. Clean. Three lines of fuck-you. She kicked her heels off so hard one flew across the room. Natalia stood in the doorway in that tiny silver dress and didn’t move. Instead of heading out, she turned around, slammed the door, and came back with pizza and a bottle of cheap wine. They didn’t talk at first. Just ate on the couch while some shitty movie flickered blue across their faces. Sarah kept tracing the rim of her glass. Natalia kept watching Sarah. The air got thick. One minute they’re cursing every guy who ever treated them like an after-thought, next minute Natalia’s hand is on Sarah’s thigh and neither of them pulls away. Natalia leans in slow, lips brushing Sarah’s ear, breath hot. Sarah’s nipples tighten under the thin top. Natalia’s fingers slide higher, push the hem of her dress up until she finds bare skin and no panties. Sarah spreads without thinking. Two fingers slip through wet folds, circle her clit once, then sink knuckle-deep. Sarah gasps, hips jerking. Natalia’s other hand cups her tit, thumb flicking the stiff nipple, pinching just enough to sting. They end up on the floor, dress bunched at their waists, legs tangled. Natalia’s tongue drags up Sarah’s slit, sucks her swollen clit while two fingers pump inside. Sarah’s thighs clamp around Natalia’s head, heels digging into her back. When she comes it’s loud, messy, her whole body shaking. She drags Natalia up, kisses her own taste off those lips, then flips her friend onto her back and returns the favor—licking, sucking, three fingers stretching Natalia wide while Natalia grinds on her face until she screams. They stay there, sweaty and panting, neither of them asking what it means.