Me and my best friend

Candy and Abby have known each other since junior high. They have grown up side by side, tasting every part of life, including the parts that kept them up at night. When curiosity turned wet between their legs, neither girl looked for an outside guide. They offered each other their own fingers first, then tongues, learning how soft a clit feels when it swells under steady pressure. What started as careful licking became a daily ritual, then a shared hunger they refuse to call by any other name. No one else knows their rhythms the way they do. No one else watches the flush spread across their chests or hears the little sound each makes right before she comes. Tonight the two friends lock the door, slide onto the bed in matching lingerie, and take their time tasting the warm, slick center they both crave. Candy spreads Abby open and traces slow circles until Abby’s thighs tense around her ears. Abby returns the favor, pressing her mouth so close that every breath comes laced with the scent of her best friend. Their world narrows to tongues sliding deep, hips rolling, and the quiet, certain knowledge that they still choose each other every time.