Man will always make sport of two women who lust, if only because their need for one another makes the presence of a man an entirely moot point. Nina and Lily were born rivals, split by their years and their income brackets; that they came together to dance the other into the ground, only to discover that they could not last without each other.
Nina sought sexual immolation the night they joined – the dark passion to burn away her fear and inability to perform. Lily gave to her, fed into the darkness while innocently trying to shed light upon her face.
The bed was a crowded affair, the sheets steamy with sweat and the essence of their impassioned desire. Nina howls in pleasure as Lily raked her teeth over her soft curves, trying to imprint herself upon Nina’s form permanently.
Two red eyed peered down at Lily’s face the evening before the grand denouement. “Let me go,” she plead, like a child who’s gamboled too far from home.
Lily smiles and bites the pale of Nina’s too-thin thigh, leaving a trail of blood in her wake like a barracuda on the prowl.