Nerds Rule!: Comic Relief

Lacy Lennon and Lily Larimar—freshly eighteen, still kids in their heads but old enough for this—hustle into Lacy's bedroom clutching the plain paper bag like it's contraband. No parents home. Door locked. They tear the plastic, drop onto the bed, open the first page together. The artwork hits them hard: tits bigger than anything real, asses pulled into impossible angles, girls grinding, fingers buried deep. Lacy's mouth goes dry. Lily bites her lip, thighs pressing tight. Page after page. Tongues, wet skin, close-ups of slick folds. Every turn another pulse between their legs. They keep trading glances, cheeks burning, breaths short. Finally Lily lets out a shaky laugh and mutters, “Fuck this. I can't just look anymore.” Lacy shuts the comic with a snap. The decision's made. Both girls are already tugging at each other's shirts, mouths crashing together, hands sliding under denim, racing to turn the page into something real.