They continue

Julia rises first and holds out her hand. Peta takes it. They leave the scattered clothes on the living-room floor and walk naked through the quiet house. The master bedroom is large and filled with soft afternoon light. A wide bed dominates the space. Peta pulls the covers back and they climb onto the cool sheets together.

There is no rush now. They have the rest of the afternoon and an empty house. Julia lies on her back. Peta settles beside her and begins to explore with slow, deliberate attention. Her mouth travels from Julia’s throat to her collarbone, then lower. She takes each breast in turn, sucking the nipples until they are tight and sensitive, then continues downward. Her tongue traces the soft curve of Julia’s stomach, dips into her navel, and finally returns between her thighs. This time the licking is unhurried, almost lazy, as if she has all day to learn every fold and reaction.

Julia’s hands roam as well. She strokes Peta’s dark hair, then slides one palm down the smooth length of her back to cup and squeeze the full cheeks of her ass. When Peta shifts higher, Julia pulls her forward until Peta’s knees straddle her face. The scent of her is strong and clean. Julia lifts her head and begins to lick in the same slow rhythm Peta is using on her, the two of them locked in a quiet, mirrored circuit of pleasure.

Time stretches. They change positions whenever one of them grows too close. Sometimes they lie on their sides facing each other, fingers working between slick thighs while they kiss. Sometimes Julia rolls Peta onto her stomach and trails open-mouthed kisses down her spine before spreading her open and tasting her from behind. Sometimes Peta climbs on top and grinds their cunts together in a slow, wet slide that makes both of them moan into each other’s mouths.

They speak only in short, soft fragments.

“There.”

“Harder.”

“Don’t stop.”

The light outside shifts from bright afternoon to the warmer gold of late day. Their bodies grow loose and heavy with repeated release. Julia loses count of how many times she has come. Each orgasm feels deeper than the last, less sharp and more like a slow melting. Peta’s skin tastes of salt and expensive lotion. Her dark hair sticks to her damp forehead. Julia cannot stop touching her.

Eventually they settle on their sides again, legs tangled, faces close. Peta’s fingers drift idly between Julia’s thighs, not trying to bring her off, just stroking the swollen, oversensitive flesh as if she cannot bear to stop contact completely.

“Tomorrow is going to change everything,” Peta says quietly.

Julia nods. She knows it is true. She also knows she no longer wants to turn back.