Scene 3 Ep2: Track Meet Challenge (1/5)

Challenge Scene
Serra collected herself and started posing with the other girl. Ok, I know I can beat Naomi on the track, this should be no different. I can totally do this, I just have to give the photographers what they want. And totally out shine this Bitch!
Status: Serra (1/8)
Complexity: 5 Difficulty: 7
Serra: Showing Off: 2d6 = 6 (Failure!)
Serra (1/8), Unwanted Attention, Public Image Disaster!

Click. Click. Click.

The reporters looked almost bored. Almost like a reporter would look like if they got stuck covering a regional track meet. Taking pictures of two rivals that had no chemistry together.

The first shots were painful: Serra standing stiff as a statue, Naomi glowing like she’d been born under stadium lights. Naomi’s smile was perfect. Gentle, photogenic, practiced. Serra’s expression was… not.

“Smile, Serra,” Naomi murmured without turning her head. “It’s okay if you hate me, but at least try to look like you’re not being held hostage.”

Serra’s stomach dropped.

God. She thinks I hate her.

And why wouldn’t she? Serra had spent every practice, every meet, every second of shared space acting distant, cool, competitive to the point of rudeness. Not because she despised Naomi she admired her. Needed to beat her. Needed to prove something she couldn’t even articulate. But hearing Naomi say it out loud—like it was obvious. It hit harder than she expected. And strangely, that cracked something open. She exhaled, unclenching her jaw.

Click. Click. Click.

The next photos came easier. A shot with their arms looped together, both girls smiling; Serra hesitantly, Naomi effortlessly. Another with the two of them squared off like prizefighters, mock-serious faces barely hiding their grins. One with both girls arms around each others shoulder, throwing identical victory signs to the crowd.

Click. Click. Click.

She had no plan. None.

Click. Click. Click.

Her body simply moved—too fast, too eager—stepping in behind Naomi and setting her hands on Naomi’s hips, right above the line of her running shorts. The contact was feather-light, harmless by any normal measure…but Serra had been pulling on the amulet’s power all day. Even that small touch sent a warm, dizzying ripple through her, like her nerves were tuned too finely.

Click. Click. Click.

She rested her chin lightly on Naomi’s shoulder, trying to play it off as confidence instead of panic. Naomi’s shifted her ass a bit to accommodate her—simple, natural—but the adjustment sent another warm surge through Serra’s chest, heat she tried very hard to pretend wasn’t happening.

Click. Click. Click.

Reporter: “Oh yeah that's good, keep going”

Naomi took the lead making the embrace more intimate. With one of Serra’s hands on her hip she placed the other arm wrapping around her stomach. Serra’s hand was just beneath the swell of Naomi’s breast. Her finger tips just grazing the intimate part of her teammate separated by just Naomi’s thin purple crop top. There faces turned to each other. Serra was lost in Naomi’s deep dark eyes, and could feel how close their lips were to each other.

Click. Click. Click.

Reporter: “Oh you girls are going to make the front page with that kind of heat!, can we get a kiss on the cheek?”

Naomi’s lips slid past Serra’s and those warm sultry lips kiss Serra on the cheek. It was innocent enough, but Serra could no longer contain herself. Her hand moved higher exploring the underside of Naomi’s breast. Naomi shifted herself again, giving Serra better access and lightly pushing her ass back into Serra's pelvis.

Click. Click. Click.

Serra wanted to moan, but she had to keep things moving....__

Click. Click. Click.

“Watch this!” Serra still wanted to one up Naomi so she did the the only reasonable thing her addled mind could think about at this point, and kissed Naomi on the lips.

The two girls repositioned themselves as their mouths explored each other. Now they were facing each other tongue fucking each others mouths.

Click. Click. Click.

The reporters had gone silent.

Click. Click. Click.

Serra pressed her body into Naomi wanting to melt into the other girl. Their tits pressed together, and Serra’s hands now moved to Naomi’s hips and ass.

Click. Click. Click.

Serra couldn’t help it and she let out a little moan into Naomi’s mouth.

Click. Click. Click.

Reporter: One of them pushed in with a grin—half-joking, half-shocked by the unbelievable shots they’d just captured. “So… are you two girls dating?”

Serra reluctantly pulled back—too fast, too aware of all the eyes on them, of what she was just doing in front of reporters with cameras. And that’s when it happened. The panic. The heat. The adrenaline. The need to say something, anything.

Click. Click. Click.

And she blurted it.

“Not publicly.”

The words hung there like a gunshot.

Then the explosions of camera shutters hit all at once.

Click. Click. Click.

Click. Click. Click.

Click. Click. Click.

A reporter actually gasped. Someone else whispered, “Holy—run that as the headline.”

Serra’s stomach plummeted.

FML, she thought. Actually FML.