Lazy Afternoon

Kayla Paige and Nikita Reznikova lounge by the pool in tiny bikinis, sun burning their shoulders. Kayla reaches for the lotion bottle, squeezes it slow, then presses her hands into Nikita’s back. Each stroke is deliberate, gliding lower until fingertips slip under the band of her suit. Nikita’s breath hitches. She sits up, unties her top, tosses it aside, and arches forward so her full breasts catch the light. Kayla doesn’t hesitate. She cups the weight, thumbs circling tight nipples while she works fresh lotion into the skin. Their thighs brush, then press. One hand wanders farther, tracing down Nikita’s stomach until it slides beneath damp fabric, slick and hot. Neither woman speaks—just low gasps and the wet sound of lotion on skin. Heat ripples off the concrete, off their bodies, off every desperate, greedy touch.