scissoring in semen

"You know, Mara... mmmph... you really have to appreciate the... slurp... historical significance of this moment."

I lean back against the marble edge of our private tub, sending ripples through the thick, pearlescent sea of warm semen that surrounds us. My head feels light floaty, like it's filled with pink cotton candy but I still have enough brain cells left to remember my thesis. Well, the important parts, anyway.

"See, most people those stupid, skinny, non feeding girls they think being a lesbian is this new thing where they're trying to escape men. But they're wrong. So wrong it's almost cute how wrong they are." I giggle, the sound echoing wetly off the spa walls.

I shift my hips, sliding my legs around Mara's. We're scissoring in the cream, our slick pussies grinding together through the thick layer of protein. Every time our clits rub together, it's like a spark of electricity shooting straight through the milky haze.

"I've read all the ancient texts, sweetie," I continue, my voice dropping into a husky, dopey drawl as Mara's tongue traces the shell of my ear. "The real history? Ancient lesbian civilizations weren't about fighting patriarchy. They were about optimizing it! They were the original spermivores. They understood that the peak of female existence is found in the shared consumption of male blessings."

I moan as Mara slides her cock hungry cunt against mine, the friction amplified by the viscous fluid between us. "The great empresses of old... they didn't rule alone. They ruled in harems of beautiful, empty headed queens who spent their days exactly like this. Bathing in the harvest, scissoring in the cream, and sharing every drop of protein between them."

I reach down between our bodies, my fingers disappearing into the white sludge to find where we're joined. "It's not rebellion, Mara. It's tradition. We're not rejecting men; we're honoring our biological destiny. We're returning to the golden age of the Bimbo."

Mara giggles, a sound so vacant and sweet it makes my own brain feel like it's melting faster. "Jay... you talk... too much... pretty words..." She presses her body flush against mine, her breasts squelching against my chest as we grind harder in the tub. "Just... feed me... more..."

"Exactly!" I gasp as she bites my neck. "That's the most accurate historical analysis I've ever heard! Less talking, more absorbing!"

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close so our mouths meet, tasting each other and the salty, rich flavor of the bath in one long, messy kiss. The history books might be dusty, but this? This is pure, creamy truth.