House Hunting Fun with Lesbian Friends

Girlfriendsfilms

Kendra James, Harley King Pic(s)

The afternoon sun slanted through the dusty bay window, illuminating the slow, deliberate dance of dust motes around their intertwined forms. Her back met the cool, textured plaster of the wall as a soft sigh escaped her lips, a sound swallowed by the gentle pressure of another mouth. Fingers, initially tentative agat the fabric of a simple cotton blouse, traced a path upwards, mapping the delicate ridges of a spine with a touch that was both questioning and assured. A warm palm settled on the curve of a hip, pulling their bodies closer until the scent of jasmine from one woman’s skin mingled with the clean, soapy fragrance of the other. The quiet of the empty house was broken only by the soft rustle of clothing and the increasingly shallow rhythm of their shared breath. A thumb brushed agat a jawline, coaxing a tilt of the head that granted deeper access, a silent invitation that was eagerly accepted. The taste was of faint sweetness and warmth, an exploration that made the vast, echoing rooms around them shrink to the single point of contact between their lips. Every nerve ending felt alive, hyper-aware of the contrast between the rough wall at her back and the incredible softness of the woman pressed agat her front. In that suspended moment, the potential of the vacant house was forgotten, replaced by the immediate, palpable electricity of a different kind of discovery.