Cooling cocktails

Peaches strips down in the heat, every inch of bare skin catching the sun. Valerie returns with a tray of iced drinks and stops dead. Her friend’s hand moves slowly between her legs, eyes half-closed. The glass clinks against Valerie’s nails. Peaches glances up, lips parted, and invites her closer without a word. Valerie sets the tray aside, steps in, and replaces Peaches’ fingers with her own. The redhead drinks in every sound Peaches makes while her brunette friend watches from the edge of the couch, fingers already tracing the rim of her own glass. They trade kisses, swap tastes, cool mouths meeting fevered skin, until the cocktails sit untouched and the three bodies tangle in a lazy, sticky rhythm that only speeds up when someone finally knocks the tray over.