I laugh as I start massaging her breasts. “But that’s exactly what you want.”

She moans, loudly and unmistakably this time, and even more so when I undo her bra and take one of her nipples into my mouth. She’s writhing with pleasure by the time I’ve moved on to the other one.

“Bed,” she says. “Now.”

In her bedroom, we crash into each other, kissing ravenously like we’re drowning and can’t get enough air. Back in college, Celeste was always the one to take the lead in the bedroom, the one who called all the shots. But today, when she tries to push me onto the bed, I pull her so she falls with me.

I haven’t had sex with another woman in eight years, but I want her, need her, too much to feel self-conscious about messing up. I get on top of her, grinding myself against her body.

Celeste’s eyes go wide with surprise. “Gem.”

Her voice is hushed, almost reverent, as I cup both of her breasts in my hands. “Fuck, I’m so wet for you. Touch me, please.”

With a smirk, I slide one hand down her body and into her now soaked underwear. The moment I touch the wetness between her legs, we both moan, her because of my fingers and me because of the deep satisfaction that this is how much she wants me.

I find her clit and start moving my hand side to side, slowly at first and then faster until she’s arching her back again. When she looks like she can’t take it anymore, I put my fingers inside her and curl them until…

She cries out, and I hold her tight, kissing her neck, her lips, and finally her forehead as her entire body shakes.

“God,” she says, slowly sitting up. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“You know, the usual. Porn, romance books… but I also had a good teacher, way back when,” I reply, pointedly meeting her gaze.

“Oh yeah? Speaking of which…” A mischievous look crosses Celeste’s face as she moves down to my waist. When she pulls down my underwear, I’m not surprised to see it’s completely soaked through. “My turn.”

That’s the last thing I remember before her tongue flicks my core.

24: Celeste

Celeste can’t get enough of Gemma. That much was always true, when they were still together, at least. But there’s something profoundly sexier about almost-thirty Gemma, who is so confident and aggressive in a way college Gemma never was.

Sure, Celeste always loved pleasuring Gemma, but in the past, Gemma tended to be more of a pillow princess, always receiving without reciprocating. And other than her quiet gasps and moans, she barely showed any signs that she was enjoying what Celeste was doing.