Backstage with Hope

We share everything, us two. Hope keeps laughing, light as champagne, while her tiny frame stretches across the couch. I like the way she moves—quick little hips and bright eyes that never quit asking for more. When the double dildo appears, we know the drill. One slick head slides into her, the other into me, until we meet in the middle and start to rock. The rhythm turns urgent. We lick wherever skin is bare, tongues flicking, fingers spreading, taking turns until both of us tremble. Hours slip by in the haze of wet sounds and soft giggles. The taste of her stays on my mouth long after. We never plan an end; we just promise there will be another afternoon just like this.