It started at a sleepover — just me and her.
A friend I’d secretly stared at too long. Lips too soft. Eyes too confident. A smirk that made my thighs tighten under loose pajamas.
We were watching a movie on her bed — blankets everywhere, popcorn half-eaten, legs barely touching. The room was dim, warm with the scent of her vanilla lotion and something else I couldn't name. My heart raced just being next to her.
She turned to me during a quiet scene, her eyes not on the screen. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”
I swallowed. “Maybe.”
She smiled — slow and wicked. “Maybe? That’s not a real answer.”
I blushed. “Okay… yes.”
“Do you want to do it again?” she whispered, her voice brushing my skin like a feather.
I didn’t answer. I just nodded.
She leaned in. Her lips were soft, warm, and tasted faintly of caramel. The kiss started sweet… then deepened. Her tongue teased mine, slow and possessive. I moaned, barely aware I was doing it.
Her hands cupped my face, then slid down — gently exploring my neck, my waist, slipping what under my shirt just enough to make my skin light on fire.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” she murmured against my lips, nibbling gently.
My body reacted before I could think. I arched toward her, thighs clenching as her hand moved lower.
“Can I touch you?” she asked, her fingers grazing the edge of my panties.
“Yes,” I breathed, trembling.
She slid her hand between my thighs, her fingers warm and slick with my wetness already. She smirked against my neck. “You’re soaked. You wanted this, didn’t you?”
“Yes… please,” I whimpered.
She circled my clit slowly, teasing, then pressed just right — making my body jolt with pleasure. I clutched her wrist, my legs spreading wider on instinct, grinding against her hand.
“I want to hear you,” she whispered, licking my ear. “I want to make you come so hard, you forget your own name.”
And when she did — when her fingers curled just right, and her mouth found my breast through the fabric — I shattered, moaning her name in broken gasps, legs shaking, breath wild.
