The camp fire flickered as a soft breeze blew their way, the flames dancing so that they seemed to frame Willow’s face, twisting themselves into her already scarlet hair. Or at least that was how it seemed to Tara who couldn’t seem to wrench her eyes away from her friend, not even to reach over and grab the second bag of marshmallows from behind her. Instead she focused her mind, stared into Willow’s brilliantly green eyes and levitated the packet the metre or so to her lap. Perhaps it was lazy, but surely even a good witch was allowed to be selfish sometimes? And besides it was worth it for the coy little grin which now looked at her from across the flames. After splitting the plastic with a tiny crackle, she slowly and deliberately brought one of the soft pink sweets to her lips. It squished against her bottom lip as she brought out a tongue to flick across the surface, sugar scattering itself across her alabaster skin.
If the slight moan Tara heard was anything to go by Willow was now equally enthralled in their gaze. As though in revenge the red witch picked up the packet lying at her side, plucking from it another marshmallow, this one white like the crescent moon which smiled down on them from above. She fitted it to the end of the skewers they had brought with them for the purpose and dangled it just above the still prancing flames. Through all of this they remained locked in their own little game. As the supple flesh of the confectionary began to drip Tara raised her eyebrow in warning, a gesture which was responded with by a twist of the skewer and a criminally slow roll of the eyes. Sometimes they did this for hours, simply lying upon their bed communicating their deepest affections with the most miniscule movements of their bodies. A parting of the lips could mean I want you; the relaxing of a muscle saying let me love you forever. Sometimes that was all they needed. Not tonight though.
When its shell was charred a golden brown Willow lifted her prize from the flames. With a bite the brittle outer burst, spewing forth its molten contents to cascade down that far too pretty chin. For Tara it was too much; in one long sprawl she was around the other the side of the fire, her longer body draped over the smaller one with care, heat pounding upon their backs. Taking the skewer from Willow’s hands she pressed them gently into the dewy grass they lay upon and lent forward to deal with the oh-so-sticky situation before her. Out went her tongue once more, sweeping its way through the syrupy goo and depositing it onto the edge of Willow’s lips where her own tongue came out to meet the bringer of such heavenly produce. Entwined the red snakes became, exploring the familiar crevices of each other’s bodies hungrily, their movements becoming rougher, escalating until with a grrr from Willow’s most carnal parts she pushed herself up and on top of Tara. The mocking furrow of Tara’s eyebrows whispered is this how you think we’re doing things? whilst the squeeze Willow gave her shoulder said tonight I think it is.
And still they had not broken the look between them.