Making Their Own Fun

They canceled. Three text messages. Gone. So Lexi Luna, Sarah Arabic, and Romi Rain drink wine in Romi’s living room with no cards, no dinner reservation, nothing. Lexi lights another cigarette by the window. “Mine always chooses his boys. Says he’ll make it up. He never does.” Sarah sinks deeper into the couch, skirt riding. “I stopped waiting. Feels better when you don’t.” They exchange tight looks. Fingers brushed, nothing by accident. Romi speaks first, low. “If women are so damn sensitive, why do we still pretend the men know how to touch?” No one argues. Lexi stands, drops her shirt, takes Sarah’s hand and presses two fingers against her own nipple until the gasp comes fast. Romi joins, kissing the back of Lexi’s neck, fingers sliding between Sarah’s thighs before Sarah’s panties are even off. Clit to clit. Heat, salt, wet mouths. Romi bites Lexi’s shoulder hard enough to bruise. Sarah moans loud, guiding two of Lexi’s fingers inside herself. Breathy curses, nails marking skin. When they settle against each other on the floor, slick and shaking, Sarah laughs once, sharp. “Guess we found something worth finishing.”