Chloe can't make up her mind

Heather couldn't blame Chloe for being overwhelmed. The redhead's expression perfectly captured her own thoughts when Hannah and Taylor first started 'napping' right in front of her. Still, she was taking too long to make up her mind. At this point it was simple indecision.

Heather loomed over her. Inscrutable.

“Heather? What's gotten–?”

A brunette curtain descended and cut off the light, the air, good sense. Chloe fumbled, but sooner than she expected her lips caught up with the rhythm. She didn't remember this from last time, the give and the take.

When the light and the air came back, Chloe's lips felt swollen.

“You,” Heather whispered, “haven't gotten into me. But you're going to.”

Chloe couldn't look away as Heather stripped off her top, her boobs swaying with every step. She'd had too many locker room showers for nudity to shock her. But soccer players didn't look like that.

Heather opened a bedroom door. Even from the couch, Chloe could smell girl on the air. It was their bedroom. Hers, and Hannah's, and Taylor's. Heather hung her bikini top over the doorknob.

“Are you... coming?” she teased. “Or not?”

And then she stepped inside, where Chloe couldn't see her.