Amber's bedroom

Amber stretched as she led Reese to her bedroom. Reese, a pace or two behind, admired the taut curves of her back, her narrow hips, the fact that the only thing that jiggled or bounced was her cute butt.

It was chilly in Amber's bedroom. "Sorry," she said, scooting a cardigan out of the way with her foot, "I left the door closed."

"I don't mind," said Reese.

"And it's a mess." She wasn't lying: this was clearly the room of someone who didn't have a lot of time to clean up. A few heaps of discarded clothing huddled around the bed like war camps outside the walls of a city under siege; a couple stacks of books, English anthologies by the looks of it, sat at the feet of a small bedside table, upon which was a reading lamp and a cellphone charger. A MacBook lay charging beneath the table.

The walls boasted band posters (of Montreal, the Divine Comedy, and Cocteau Twins) and a calendar that looked like it was included with a coffee table book or something. A salvaged dresser stood at the wall opposite from the foot of Amber's bed. A modest TV sat atop the dresser.

"Go ahead, lie down," Amber said, giving Reese a light spank as they climbed into bed. Reese giggled, pulled the covers over their waist to warm up. It was a full bed, so there wouldn't be a lot of room to sprawl, but it was comfy.

Amber pulled on a maroon crewneck emblazoned with the initials of the local college. Then she crawled into bed beside Reese, gave them a kiss on the forehead, and leaned over the side -- giving Reese the opportunity to once again admire her magnificent ass -- and picked up the laptop. She rested it in her lap, opened it, bathed them in its light.

While Amber looked for a movie to stream Reese was surveying her face. She looked serious a lot of the time, Reese noticed, which they guessed was unsurprising for a grad student. Plus they'd seen her in action at Heirloom, had seen how seriously she took her job. Reese admired that -- they'd forged their own career path through a combination of wanting to please people and stay away from most people, and while they loved it they sometimes wondered what they would have done differently if they'd gotten their shit together earlier in life.

Amber did this thing where she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. She did it at work, she did it while she was trying to figure out how to tell Reese she wanted to go down on them, and she was doing it now. It was cute. There was something magical about seeing a beautiful woman do something very human.

"Can I be honest?"

"Yeah."

"I think I wanna watch something I don't, like, 100% need to pay attention to."

"I think I feel the same way."

"Okay, cool. Something like... this, then?" It was a movie Reese'd seen before, a decent mumblecore movie from a few years back. "I've seen it before." She paused. "We don't even have to watch anything. I just wanna... hang out some more." She rolled her eyes at herself. "Christ, I'm lame."

"Naw," Reese said, letting the Midwesterner come out. "We can watch a movie. I just might be, umm, distracted."

"Yeah?" Amber was smiling softly, now.

"Mmhmm..." They kissed.

Amber connected her laptop to the TV and started the movie. Then she put the laptop back on the floor -- showing off her butt again -- and curled up next to Reese.

They didn't really pay attention to the movie.

"Right there," Amber moaned, as Reese kissed her along the bottom of her jaw. They stroked her chest and stomach beneath her crewneck, every now and then brushing just close enough to a nipple to draw out an anticipatory sigh. "Mmm..."

To their credit they'd attempted to watch the movie for the first few minutes.

"Careful..." Amber giggled. "I might want to blow you again."

Reese snorted. "Yeah?"

"Mmhmm..." Amber scooted down so she could rest more fully in Reese's embrace. She rested her head on their shoulder. Reese kissed her scalp.

Her hair smelled like lavender. Sometimes Reese wondered what it would be like to... to settle down, for lack of a better word. They met so many women, so many fascinating, beautiful women, and sometimes parting left Reese full of regret. They'd made it a point to only engage with women who wouldn't pine, wouldn't miss their presence -- they didn't want to break hearts or hurt feelings -- but sometimes they wondered...

"Would that be so terrible?" Reese teased.

Amber shook her head. "So you weren't grossed out?"

"By --"

"Yeah."

"No. Why would I be?"

"I dunno. Some people get grossed out by dumb shit."

"Exactly. I thought it was hot."

She looked up at them. "Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

Amber seemed pleased by the pink flushing on Reese's cheeks. "It's kind of my thing. And you're cute, so..."

Reese gave her a peck on the forehead. "Your thing?"

"Yeah, like my... kink, I guess?" She blushed, too. "I like to... I guess you'd call it 'cock worship.'" She huffed. "Feels kind of regressive, doesn't it? Feminist college student secretly loves big, hard dick."

"I have a big dick?"

Amber snorted. "Anyway."

"Naw, I don't think it's regressive. We like what we like."

"Well, what do you like?"

There was no point in being coy or whatever. Amber trusted them enough to be honest about her kink, so Reese would do the same. "I like to take pictures of the women I sleep with. Sometimes I film us having sex. Only if they consent. But, umm, yeah, I guess it's kind of a... a fetish."

Amber raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Reese felt anxious, now. "Yeah."

"I think it's interesting that you're also a video editor. Are they related?"

"I don't know..."

"So were you planning on asking if you could take my picture?"

"Umm..." Reese smiled awkwardly. "Yeah."

"Then ask me." Amber was smiling, and Reese got the feeling she was trying to be supportive.

"Okay." Reese giggled, composed themself. "Would it be okay if I took a picture of you at some point? For my personal collection? I promise I won't share it on the internet or anything. It would just be for me."

Amber did the tongue-in-cheek thing again as she thought of a response.