Always

Bridgett and I have this thing that never fades. Whatever else shifts around us, the heat between us stays. She’s the one with the soft blonde hair, and I’m the brunette who can’t keep my hands off her. We’re still young enough that everything feels new and electric. She steps out in that lace lingerie like it was made for her skin, and I swear the sight alone makes my pulse trip. We don’t talk about forever, but when my mouth finds her, when my tongue parts her, nothing else exists. She gasps, she grips, she pulls me closer. I taste how wet she gets for me and I don’t stop until her thighs tremble around my face. Later she returns the favor, fingers inside me, mouth hot and greedy, until I’m the one shaking. It’s always her. Always this.