It's Spring Break, Try Something New!

Spring break in a humid room. Celestina slumped on the couch, phone face down. Her straight-girl plans dead after the boyfriend split, eyes on the empty walls. River leaning against the doorframe, black tank, short shorts, trying to drag her out for shots and neon. Celestina's answer: pizza's on the way, she ain't moving. River smirks. Waiting game starts. Door knocks. Mochi enters, box balanced on her hip, college hoodie riding up over small hips. Something flickers in Celestina's stare—how that girl's legs move, the sweat spot above her collar. River clocks it. Lets the door shut behind Mochi, voice sugar-sweet: "Stay a minute." Celestina's cheeks flush fast. She smells the trap. "Why don't you take her instead?" River tilts her head, eyes locked on both. "We can share." Mochi's grin splits wide. She sets the pizza down. Seconds later she’s out of the hoodie, knees on the rug between Celestina's knees. Celestina breathes hard, heart jumpy. River slips behind the couch, fingers stroking her neck, coaxing, "Just feel it, babe." Mochi starts kissing the inside of Celestina’s thigh—warm mouth, soft. Celestina stiffens, unsure, then melts. Her hips lift when Mochi’s tongue finds her clit. Mochi works slow, careful circles. Celestina’s first time with a girl. Every lick sparks nerves she didn’t know had names. River leans over, kisses her open mouth, tongue sliding deep, swallowing the moan. Hands keep Celestina steady: River’s on one breast, squeezing; Mochi’s fingers inside her now, wet, slick sounds filling the room. Celestina shakes, thighs flexing. She looks down once—Mochi's face shiny, eyes half-lidded, smile filthy. Pleasure climbs fast. Celestina comes gasping into River’s palm, body bucking. They don’t stop. River trades places, legs parted over Celestina’s mouth. Celestina licks, nervous then greedy, tasting River while Mochi grinds on her thigh, rubbing until she’s dripping too. Every position trades heat: Celestina on all fours, face buried in Mochi, River behind her flicking her tongue between her cheeks; then all three stacked, mouths and fingers slipping together until the pizza sits cold and untouched.