Without Hesitation

Alison just blew into L.A. after some asshole ripped her heart out. She needs hands on her skin. Debby’s palms slide down her spine and something electric kicks alive. The touch loosens her up, one breath at a time, until the small talk turns honest and raw. Breathing gets heavier. Muscle turns to need. No warning when Debby’s fingertips slip between her thighs. No protest when Alison’s tongue parts Debby’s folds, slow and deliberate. The room shrinks around them. Time stalls. The only clock now is the thud of pulse and the wet sound of skin. They stop thinking. They just take and give, trading heat until the world outside the table feels like rumor.