Kiss or Miss: Part One

Val Dodds shut the door on her date and immediately wanted to kick herself. Jenna Sativa had smiled, leaned in, waited, and Val froze. Now she kicked off her shoes like they burned, threw herself into bed, and yanked the covers up to her chin, hoping sleep would fix the wreck she'd made of the night. The dream cracked open right where her cowardice stopped: they were back inside her place, keys hitting the table, breathing the same warm air. Val mumbled something about seeing Jenna again soon. Jenna cut that polite shit short. She stepped in, grabbed Val's face, and kissed her like she'd been holding the urge since the first drink. Val tasted mint and tequila. Jenna pulled back just enough to say she'd been staring at Val's mouth all night, then went back in harder, tongue sliding, hips already shifting closer. Clothes started coming off—Jenna peeled Val's top up and over her head, dropped kisses down her collarbone, past her ribs, down the center of her stomach. At Val's little pink thong, Jenna hooked a finger, dragged the fabric aside and found slick heat. She licked straight through it, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, eyes locked upward while Val's thighs started to shake. Val watched herself come apart, hips jerking, wetness coating Jenna's mouth. Jenna stood, stripped off her dress in one motion, and told Val to sit on her face. Val climbed up, knees on either side of Jenna's head, rocking her ass in rhythm with Jenna's tongue until her thighs burned. Jenna wasn't finished. She flipped them both, shoved Val onto her back, climbed on top and ground down until their pussies met, slick against slick, grinding in a hard, wet rhythm that had both women gasping. The friction turned slicker, hotter, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the dark room like the filthiest applause.