Out of the closet

She sat there with her heart racing. Blonde hair falling over one shoulder, her thighs parting just enough to feel the air between them. Imogene leaned in closer, watching every move, unaware that this moment would change the game between them. “I like both,” the blonde said, voice low but steady. “Girls. Guys. I don’t pick sides.” Imogene’s dark eyes widened for a second, then softened with a spark of something new. She let her fingers trail down the front of her skirt, slow, curious. The blonde reached for her, drawing her close, lips brushing skin that had never been kissed this way before. They shed their clothes in quiet urgency. Imogene’s large breasts spilled free, her nipples tightening under light fingertips. The blonde pressed her down onto the sheets, sliding between her legs with intent. She spread Imogene open, studying the soft, pink center she’d been wanting to taste. Her tongue swept in slow, deliberate circles, savoring the heat and the slickness that met her. Imogene gasped, hands clutching at the bedding, hips lifting on instinct. The blonde worked her steadily, lips closing around her clit with gentle suction before sliding lower again. Every flick, every drawn-out lick pulled wet sounds from between Imogene’s thighs. She moaned, deep and unrestrained, her body twisting as pleasure built fast. The blonde didn’t rush. She licked and sucked, drinking her in, tasting the proof of Imogene’s desire. Fingers gripped her hair, urging her deeper, and she gave in gladly. When Imogene came, it was sudden and loud—her legs shaking, her breath catching on every wave. The blonde stayed between her thighs, licking through the aftershocks, tasting everything she’d unleashed.