Liquid Running
Chloe's added almost an entire bottle of Strawberry Sorbet bath bubbles to the water, but the foam still isn't dense enough to hide her completely. Her knees stick through, as do her breasts, dark nipples contrasting sharply against the egg-white froth and the stark white enamel bathtub.
She circles her nipples with hot fingers, feeling them rise under her light touch. Not enough though, so she pinches them, sharply, a hint of nails. They feel tender, the touch hurts a little, but she still wants more. She cups her breasts, feels how heavy they are, slightly swollen. Her period is due soon, she can feel that familiar ache, that's half pain, half longing.
She wonders if all girls like the feel of their own breasts as much as she does. She's never asked, not even on vodka-fueled sleepovers.
She'd like to feel other breasts too.
Lana's.
Her breasts wouldn't fall into Chloe's hand, they're too small for that; she's caught glimpses in the locker room. But she could palm her hand over them, press down until the nipples squeezed out between her fingers.
Her head tips back further until she can feel her hair dipping into the water, slapping wetly against her shoulders.
She's never seen Lana checking her out, but that doesn't mean it's not happened. Lana's not as pristine as the boys think. She knows that for a fact.
She leaves her breasts, one hand reaching down, through the foam, between her legs. She's already wet, and not just from the water. She fingers herself expertly and moans a little. She doesn't need to moan, but it makes it feel more real. She thinks she would moan if this were someone else, if it were Lana tonguing her clit and tugging at her wet hair until it hurt, her little breasts brushing against Chloe's bare knees (and oh, she can see that, just visible through the drape of Lana's long hair), so she keeps moaning, louder and louder.
She is liquid and sound and heat. Nothing else. She flows into her own touch, water and fingers circling. Steam billows into curves (breasts, hips, curved thigh) as her sighs hit the air.
All the touches, real, imaginary, blend into one, light, rough, wet and sure, as she's pulled into release with one final groan. She pants a little, rubs the sweat off her forehead with her clean hand, and ducks under the water.
She comes straight back up, and turns her head, shaking the water out of her hair. She smiles, a little shyly considering the display she's just put on.
Lana licks a splash of water off her lip and smiles back.