Backstage with Bambi and Peaches

Two girlfriends wait outside. Bambi in a pale summer dress, Peaches in tight denim shorts. They slide into the backseat, laughing, legs brushing. They have no idea the camera bag in the trunk is for them. Once inside the apartment they notice the lens first, pointed at the bed like a dare. Bambi pulls her dress over her head. Peaches peels the shorts down, already wet. I tell them to start slow. They crawl onto the sheets, blonde hair spilling over brunette, mouths open, tongues meeting. I keep the camera low, clicking every kiss, every wet sound. But the lens grows heavy in my hands. I set it down. I get closer. My shirt comes off. Peaches turns, lips slick, reaches for me. Bambi’s fingers slip between my thighs at the same time. Three bodies tangle. The shutter clicks itself once more, then we forget it exists.