Teasing Girls

These two women don't kiss like they're in a rush. Tongues slip and curl—slow at first, then harder, wetter—until lips shine and breathing gets ragged. One slides down, the other follows, trading places in a rhythm they never bother naming. Fingers sink in, drawing sounds they save for each other. Tongues follow; one flick can make the whole spine lift off the sheets. They switch again. Light teeth, careful nails, the push-pull of wanting to give and needing more. Sweat gathers. The tension builds until neither wants it gone. They drag the edge out, ride it, let it snap. Then they start over. When the room finally stills, both of them are smiling like cats that already ate.