You're A NUDIST Now??

Laura Bentley nearly drops her wine glass when Lilly Bell walks through the door wearing nothing at all. A nudist now, Lilly calls it, after one solo trip. Laura forces her voice steady, tells herself it's fine, tries looking only at the girl's eyes. Two minutes later she can't look anywhere else. Lilly's tits bounce when she laughs, her hips roll with each barefoot step across the kitchen tiles, and a thin trail of sweat catches the afternoon light between her shoulder blades. Laura's throat goes dry. The admission rips out before she can swallow it back: "You're driving me crazy, and I'm wet because of it." Lilly just smiles slow, licks the corner of her mouth. "Then let me take the edge off," she says. Steps closer. Heat pulses off her bare skin. Laura tries to step back but her spine hits the fridge instead. She manages one weak protest, a single syllable of "No," that melts when Lilly's nipples graze her blouse. Fingers slip under cotton, palms cup Laura's heavy breasts, and the last thread of resistance snaps. Laura grabs Lilly by the nape, crushes their mouths together, sucks the girl's tongue deep. They stumble into the hallway, hands frantic, and Laura's already grinding her soaked panties against Lilly's bare thigh before the bedroom door even shuts.