Backstage of Girlfriends

We share a flat, Lorna and me. Same man once, before he decided two girls at once meant nothing special to him. After that mess we stopped looking outside and started looking at each other. Safer. Hotter. Tonight the lingerie stays on, blonde hair against brunette, two bodies moving slow on the bed we also share. Her fingers trace the lace on my hip. Mine slip lower, testing the heat between her thighs. Small moans, soft smiles, the quiet understanding that this time no one will leave us hanging. Just heat, skin, and the wet sound of mouths that know exactly what the other wants.