Andrea's first

Andrea is still shy about it, even after that one afternoon with Priscilla. The memory sits warm in her skin. Tonight Priscilla brings someone else home. Dark hair, quieter than both of them, and she moves straight to Andrea on the couch like the plan was already made. Andrea looks to Priscilla for a sign and gets only a slow smile. Priscilla sits behind Andrea, lips on the back of her neck, hands sliding under the thin sweater until the girl leans forward. The brunette kneels in front, opening Andrea’s knees with steady fingers. Two mouths, two sets of hands, different rhythms, and Andrea’s breath starts to catch. She feels the blonde’s teeth graze her shoulder at the same time the brunette’s tongue finds her. They don’t rush her. Priscilla whispers now and then, low encouragement, while the other girl’s fingers work deeper, steady, until Andrea’s hips push against them without thinking. Every new touch lands softer and sharper at once. Andrea comes first with a startled sound, then again, quieter, when Priscilla’s fingers take over. Afterward she lies between them, flushed, quiet, surprised by how little she wants it to end.