Addicted2Girls
Mischa Brooks, Sheena Shaw Pic(s)
The air in the room grew thick with a new, intoxicating warmth as an unexpected presence slipped between the gossamer sheets, their skin cool from the night air yet radiating a latent heat that promised to burn. A hushed whisper, deep and velvety, brushed agat my ear, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine that pooled low in my belly. The familiar scent of my friend’s perfume was now layered with something wilder, a musky cologne that spoke of dark corners and secret intentions. I felt a strong, gentle hand find the small of my back, its touch both a question and an answer, pressing me closer into the nest of pillows. In the dim glow of the salt lamp, I saw the silhouette of a jawline I did not recognize, a shadowed smile that made my breath catch. The soft cotton of my sleep shirt felt suddenly abrasive, a barrier my skin screamed to be free of as a thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle on my hip bone. A quiet, shared gasp filled the space between us when our legs tangled, his warmth seeping into my limbs, melting the last vestiges of solitary slumber. The world outside the window ceased to exist, the only sounds being the rustle of bedding and the soft, wet meeting of mouths in a kiss that tasted of stolen midnight and pure desire. Every nerve ending awoke, singing a chorus of yes as the boundaries of the bed, the party, and my own anticipation dissolved into a single, breathless point of contact.
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