Meddle about

Suddenly, between them emerged an unprecedented, yet oddly fascinating kind of mathematics. One would touch the other no fewer than a hundred times a day, and twice as often at night. When the sun was up, it wasZoey whoproved the more active initiator of these touches, and when it got down, it was the not-Zoey. Not long before, their secret relationship hadturned three months old,one third of which the two thirds of Huntrix had spent taking turnsin each other’s beds. Exactly twenty-nine days had passed since the first time they made love,eighteen nights of which had been spent in sex-adjacent foreplay. Of those, only five would pass for a real thing. And yet, with every new encounter, the girls never failed to surprise each other. This was especially true for the youngest member of the group who had a solid grasp of theoretical knowledge accumulated over the years from fanfics, manga, porn, and late-night conversations with herfriends back in the US. On Mira’s phone, notifications popped up almost every minute — reminders to get her nails done (which the dancer refreshed at least once every two weeks), a scheduled appointment with the eye doctor, her monthly medical tests, a new upload on her favorite make-up tutorial channel, collaboration offers from modeling agencies, or just a little note from her loved ones, few enough to count on one hand. Once or twice a day, her phone would let out a soft purr — a special tone Mira had set just for the messages from Zoey. There was this one time, even before this little update, when she’d tapped on a pop-up notification without checking what it was— which, as the maknae later dubbed it, led to a “a tiny silent spat.” A small chest, its nipples covered by just two fingers, suddenly popped right into the face of the choreographer, who was waiting for her turn at the doctor’s office. On either side of her, members of another girl group were lounging on a comfy sofa, also waiting for their turn with the dermatologist. Mira tried to swipe the image off her screen with all five fingers at once, butflooded her gallery with screenshots instead. The curious eyes of the other group’s members “un”willingly darted to Mira’sscreen. It could all have blown over had she just pretended nothing catastrophic had happened — but instead, blushing furiously, she instantly launched into a clumsy excuse: “Ugh, these spam newsletters…” And it would have been justfine, if right after that phrase a new notification hadn’t popped up on her screen: “How do you like it? :) Can’t wait for you to come back (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)” Realizing she couldn’t bear staying there, Mira sprang up from the sofa and headed swiftly toward the exit, already crafting an excuse to reschedule the appointment. The day had turned out to be unseasonably hot. Once home, she consciously avoided bringing up the little incident. On top of that, Mira even managed to don an expression of seriousness and focus — but Zoey saw right through her. To the surprise of the recipient, the unabashed sender of nude pics didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed about her little mishap. Instead, she laughed out loud and gave her “friend” a playful tap on the shoulder. “Worst case scenario, our fellow group member might end up with some solid exposure,” Zoey remarked. “But I doubt they’ll stoop that low.” The maknae’s sober reflections brought Mira back to her senses. Even though she wasn’t one to hold grudges against her fellow girls, the situation left an unpleasant (a label she was painstakingly drilling into her mind, refusing to admit her clear liking for those kinds of messages) aftertaste. “So, in the end…” Zoey laid her fingers gently on Mira’s slender shoulders and, rising onto her toes, brushed her lips softly against her ear. “Did you like it?” *** Sometimes, content of a different kind would show up in her messenger. Now, whenever she heard the familiar purr coming from the speakers, Mira knew she needed to find a quiet spot to read the mysterious note. And while guessing the sender was within her reach, the nature of the message never was. This time, several attachments popped up on her phone screen at once — screenshots from various sources like manga, Pinterest, and a porn clip. For what felt like an agonizingly long minute, the words “Zoey <3 is typing” hovered at the top of the screen. “My best compilation! Check it out and rate every pic. Wanna try something from here?” Mira barely took a gander at all thirty images before she was interrupted. Most of the photos blurred together in her mind, but one image stuck with unusual clarity. “We’ll talk about it at home,” she added a second later, then followed up with, “Miss you” — to stop Zoey from throwing another tantrum over her cold messages. And also because she truly missed her terribly every moment they were apart. As soon as Mira returned, she pounced on Zoey from behind while the latter was engrossed in something on her laptop screen. Sliding her long fingers into Zoey’s loose, curly hair, Mira began massaging her scalp. The poisonous snakes of her black curls wrapped around her hand, sending waves of ticklish shivers down her spine. The sweet scent of floral perfume hit her nostrils so strongly that she felt dizzy. Tugging the edge of Zoey’s oversized, worn-out home T-shirt off her fragile shoulder, Mira quickly pressed her dry lips against the taut skin, trailing her tongue down along the forearm. Then she did the same to the other arm, inhaling the heavy, ragged breath. Afterwards, she spun the chair around to face her and kissed Zoey insistently. Again, and again, and again, and… “You listening to me?” The maknae jumped off the chair and climbed onto the tall bed, settling beside her friend. Mira shook her head so as to dispel the trance. The illusion felt so real to the point that her constantly dry lips moistened and swole on their own. Zoey kept staring at her, intent on drawing an answer with her piercing gaze. Raising two fingers, Mira covered her lips and ran a sharp nail along her sub’s body, pulling herself back to reality. “Sorry, I spaced out,” the older girl said, resting her hand on Zoey’s knee and running her fingers over it with regret. “Can you repeat what you said?” “Ah, drop it,” Zoey said, flopping onto the huge pillows and lying back. One leg bent at the knee, the other stretched out. Her arms crossed behind her head. “I was just recounting the plot of a really weird cannibal family horror flick,” she said so seriously it made Mira smile involuntarily. “Are you okay? You seem... I don’t know. Different, somehow.” “You wanna watch it?” Mira feigned not hearing the last question and reached for her phone. “Don’t play dumb with me,” Zoey grumbled. “I can see something’s wrong.” She grabbed Mira’s wrist and pulled her closer, answering the earlier question about the movie without saying a word. “I’m fine,” Mira said, settling down beside her and resting her head on Zoey’s chest. For a minute, they fell silent, listening to each other’s breathing. Mira felt Zoey’s chest rise and fall slowly beneath her head, and it made her feel like a butterfly caught in a net. The one whose wings would soon be dusted off, dried, and pressed under glass for all to admire this stunning yet pitiful sight. Mira was almost like Miranda in the clutches of an obsessed maniac kidnapper. “Baby, I’m just worried about you,” Zoey’s fingertips softly massaged the scalp beneath her neat red curls. “You haven’t been yourself these last few days.” The tongue may conceal the truth, but the eyes betray it every time. The prey’s gaze darted around the room, skipping from one object to another. As she continued to trace her lips with her nail, she deliberately avoided too much contact with Zoey’s hands. But her futile attempts to mitigate the problem only made her desire to dig out the truth even stronger. “Is it because of that chick you didn’t get to know yesterday at the bar?” No matter how hard Mira tried to avoid Zoey’s stare, that bold accusation made her lock eyes with the flushed, heat-streaked round face. “Zoey, are you fucking crazy?” The older one was way too prude, barely letting herself cuss — but when she did, it was like hot water splashing between the other one’s legs. Yet somehow, the “fucking crazy” one liked the game she herself had started. “And yet her tits were bigger than mine,” Zoey said, her face clouded with annoyance as she grabbed her own chest. “Don’t tell me you didn’t ogle at that cleavage all evening.” Mira was overwhelmed by a fit of uncontrollably fierce fury. She would have gladly scrubbed that little bitch’s mouth out with soap — and her own too. Snapping Zoey’s wrists sharply, the gaslighting victim pinned them against some decorative turtle pillows, then jumped onto the shorts-covered thighs, completely immobilizing her bully. “Should I start calling for help already?” She felt like a wild beast again. It made her want not just to wash herself, but to shed her own skin. Mira gently released Zoey’s hands, slid down from her legs, and fell beside her again. The sudden change in behavior didn’t please the younger one, who tended to retreat inward in moments like these, analyzing everything around her. Often, it ended in newly formed beliefs that she wasn’t attractive enough, sexy enough, liberated enough, desirable enough, or even loved enough. Zoey would tear her hair out in frustration, wondering why one night she experiences sex that takes her to the heavens, and the next — only five minutes of dry kisses and a hurried "goodnight." Why she spends one night wrapped tightly in the arms of her colleague-lover, and the next — surrounded by a sparse crowd of plush toys. So as to reach the truth she craved, Zoey grabbed Mira’s skinny wrists herself, “pinning” them to the soft headboard. Tiny tears welled up in her huge eyes, her short nails digging deeper into the protruding bones of her arms. Then, she screamed for a long time, her screaming long and abrupt, into the space between neck and a shoulder. Screamed about how totally confused she is about what’s going on, about her complexes and a tendency to visualize the worst. Pleading “pleases” would slip out of her mouth several times a minute, each one sounding more desperate and hopeless. Hearing that made Mira want to bite her elbows. She held the trembling body tightly against herself, stroking the dark nape for a long time with care, making soothing sounds, and biting her own lips. Once she was sure Zoey had calmed down, she gently pulled away and began to tell everything. About how she wants to pounce on her friend every second of her life, about the angelic admiration every part of Zoey’s body inspires in her. About her fear of seeming like an insatiable villainous nympho; about how worried she is of the problems that might happenif anyone else finds out about their peculiarschedule — “one day on, three days off,” where “three” means three days of being tangled up in each other’s sheets without ever coming up for air. Mira didn’t hide that she constantly undressesZoey with her eyes, and that when falling asleep alone, she unconsciously rubs her crotch against one of the pillows lying nearby, always imagining the gentle and attentive hands of her partner. She tried to mix this with expressing hatred toward herself for these, in her opinion, primal desires — which again brought tears to Zoey’s eyes. “How come an idiot like you managed to get a degree,” Zoey let out a tear-streaked laught, scratching her “friend’s” back through her shirt and pressing harder against her cold body. “I love you so much.” She could have started trying to convince Mira that everything was fine, and that she,the maknae, was far from a perfect angel herself. But instead, Zoey sent her fingers on a journey under not-her clothes, letting the sensual touches speak for her. For the first time during their privileged relationship, Zoey let herself take the reins into her own hands. And so, her fingers dug greedily into the thin skin at Mira’s waist, playing it like a piano. The tune of Mira’s current favorite song began to echo in both their ears. The olderone’s musical taste wasn’t limited to a single band or genre; she preferred to give any song recommended to her a chance. Many tracks in her playlist had ended up there by pure accident, but the special place was always reserved for those she discovered thanks to Zoey. “You’re thinking of that song too, aren’t you?” the maknae asked, catching from the corner of her eye how Mira was drumming the familiar rhythm on the blanket with the tip of her long nail. The “drummer” gave a small nod — only to find herself suddenly kissed on the tip of the nose. A faint but terribly sticky trace of lip gloss was left behind. “Wanna listen to it?” Mira nodded, and within a second Zoey was asking Siri in English to play the track. The room filled with a thick, intoxicating cloud of electric guitar. The maknae asked the “assistant” on her phone to turn the volume down. No matter how hard Mira tried to hide the wave of arousalwhich waslike a tsunami crashing through her from head to toe, whenever she heard that foreign tongue, her body betrayed her. She swallowed hard and turned her head to the side—anything to avoid looking at the object of her desire. The sweet whisper seemed to turn away in the same direction as her. “I wanna see you undress now…” It was unclear whether Zoey was simply singing along to the lyrics or hinting at something, but that something was already threatening to explode from the growing heat low in her belly. Sitting astride her captive, the maknae began to sway her hips and roll her ass in time with the music, sending a faint, teasing vibration up through the tense body beneath her. “It’s getting harder to breathe out.” After the half-sung line came another journey beneath her T-shirt. This time, Mira surrendered to the longed-for caresses, arching under the hand that slid ever higher. When the fingers reached the band of her cotton bra, they gave it a playful tug downward before retreating to the hem of her shirt. Until today, Mira had always been “on top,” and it had happened naturally. Every time Zoey’s hands reached for her clothes, she would gently push them away, never allowing herself to be fully uncovered. Touches had been permitted only within invisible boundaries she’d drawn in her mind. Lately, the maknae had begun to wonder about the reason behind such ambiguous behavior, yet never dared to bring it up while talking to her partner. Now, for the first time, the older girl felt truly vulnerable — and the brash American shamelessly took advantage. Unlike Mira, Zoey didn’t often check on her partner with words, but her gaze stayed locked on that flushed face, reading every flicker of change and adjusting her touches accordingly. The song was nearing its end, the electric guitar ringing clean once again. Zoey hurried to stop it with another request — no telling if a sudden phonk track would crash in next and shatter the tension between them. She wasn’t about to lose her chance to finally savor the girl’s body. “What about those photos?” Mira’s pupils contracted instantly, though her mind caught up a heartbeat later. In her vision appeared the phone screen, a gallery of images in every style and shade — and one in particular that drew the eye more than the rest. “I didn’t really look at them too closely, to be honest,” Zoey frowned in disappointment and made a move for her phone, ready to take a little trip with her girlfriend into the world of illustrated porn. But Mira instantly caught her hand, not letting the maknae strangle Siri. “But there was something there I liked…” Big, warm brown eyes lit up. Fixing her gaze on her “friend”, Zoey radiated all the interest she could muster in the subject. “But I don’t know how to describe it to you,” Mira’s fingers released her grip, letting go of the slender wrist. “Maybe… it’d be better to show you.” “Show me.” The younger girl didn’t reach for the phone again. Instead, she climbed off Mira and sat down beside her, giving her complete freedom to act. Zoey knew perfectly well that the girl was about to show her one of the pictures from their shared files, but she wasn’t about to waste the chance to savor that flustered little face. “In one of the photos…” Mira hesitated for a long moment. She wasn’t used to speaking aloud about things like this — especially things that involved herself. Raising her arms above her head, she let her wrists brush against the headboard and averted her eyes. “It was… kind of like this.” Zoey’s smile spread wide. She instantly remembered a screenshot from a black-and-white yuri manhwa — one girl handcuffed to the headboardandthe other… “Wanna recreate everything from that photo?” Zoey asked. “I never said I was going to recreate anything from it,” Mira muttered — though the words felt ridiculous when her whole sweaty body was begging to be touched. “…Yes.” “O’kay.” The younger girl got up from the bed and headed toward the huge, wall-sized window. Grabbing the edge of a heavy dark curtain, she took a few steps along the wall, drawing it closed behind her. The room sank into half-light—not as dark as night, but dim enough to soothe. On her desk sat a small metal elephant — an incense holder for Indian sticks. The rapper skillfully lit them with matches and inserted two incense sticks into the holes on the elephant’s back. All the while, she hummed softly the lyrics of a song she’d listened to earlier. Meanwhile, Mira tried to get comfortable but couldn’t find a good spot. Grabbing one of the soft turtle plushies, she settled it on her lap and buried her nose in its shell. The drawers in the cabinet slid open and shut so quickly Mira didn’t catch what was happening on the other side of the room. Even if she had time, it would be hard to see anything without proper lighting — especially with her eyesight. “Don’t get bored.” Zoey looked unbelievably sexy right now. Always sweet and delicate, she now seemed to have grown stronger, more confident. Mira’s eyes missed the subtle manipulations Zoey was doing with her hands, but she could feel every tense vein on her neck. Her voice had dropped to a deeper register, the kind it took when Zoey was delivering her most aggressive rap verses. Finally, Zoey finished searching through the drawers and turned back to her beloved, who had been sitting curled up the whole time, hugging the plush turtle. No outsider would believe this scene wasn’t the work of Photoshop or AI. The maknae climbed onto her own bed and covered Mira’s flushed crown with her palm. Her fingers gently stroked her, caressed the roots of her hair, and massaged her scalp, encouraging her to relax. It was hard — almost impossible — with such a tempting figure only inches away, her steady voice sounding so distinctively dominant. “Will you let me take this off?” — the fingers of her other hand gripped the black T-shirt that had seen a lot that evening. Mira nodded firmly and, in the next moment, was left wearing only a burgundy bra. Zoey stared in awe at the generous chest. She couldn’t wait to touch it but forced herself to hold back. Her fingers tucked Mira’s long hair behind her back, revealing her pale neck and shoulders. Thin, short nails traced along the jawline, down the neck, and came to rest on the collarbone. The other hand wasn’t idle either and began to give attention to the sensitively responsive back, causing Mira to arch slightly and let out a quick breath. Setting the turtle aside, Mira reached up and wrapped her arms around Zoey’s neck, pulling her closer. The maknae slightly stuck out her tongue, running it over the outside of her mouth. She reached for Mira’s trembling lips, stopping just a centimeter away, parting her mouth slightly and beginning to breathe heavily. Her victim felt the scorching gusts of breath on her lips but didn’t dare to initiate the kiss. Not until given permission. Zoey herself was desperate to sink into the tempting wetness of those sweet folds but decided to play the waiting game a little longer. The maknae tried not to pull her face away. Her hands reached out to wrap around the bare body, and once they did, she struggled with the intricate puzzle of the bra clasp. Mira smiled faintly, slipping one hand behind her back to help the girl free herself from the cumbersome piece of lingerie. It landed somewhere to the side of their craving bodies. Meanwhile, Zoey returned to Mira’s long neck, but instead of teasing it like her lips, she began showering it with intoxicating kisses. Mira hadn’t even suspected how sensitive her neck was until the maknae discovered this little secret through trial and error. Since then, she never missed an opportunity to secretly cover that delicate skin with a mixture of love, passion, and saliva. “Enough, baby,” Mira twitched, trembling. Her voice was on the verge of breaking into a scream, but she tried to hold herself together until the last moment. Zoey had only heard her moan a few times during all this. “Stop, seriously.” But it sounded far from serious. Long nails scratched sharply at the other’s back, whose owner, without a hint of doubt or fear, allowed herself to be scratched until red. Mira quickly and quietly sucked in air, trying not to make a sound, to which Zoey whispered somewhere near her shoulder: “I want to hear your moans, baby.” And Mira really drew in air with a soft moan. The phrase wasn’t finished yet, and the girl was already tenderly moaning from the mere hoarse voice whispering close to her ear. “Yes, just like that,” Zoey dragged each word out, as if savoring the pleasure of an expensive dessert on her lips. Still sticky lips smoothly descended to the chest, leaving behind countless shiny spots. Mira smelled of something fresh and sharp: pine or mint gum. Maybe something woody. Ask her, and she wouldn’t be able to say. Her perfume hadn’t changed for years, which is why this androgynous scent had deeply settled in every layer of her skin. The hunter tried not to rush, giving special attention to every millimeter of body. She silently whispered love confessions to the neck muscles and protruding collarbones; bowed her head in reverence to the trembling shoulders and purple veins on the chest. Suddenly, the lips that had lost all the gloss lifted away from the fresh skin. Hands reached behind, searching for something. The cardboard walls of the bedroom absorbed the icy metallic clink. Zoey grabbed the foreign object, lifted it to her head level, and teasingly shook the unfamiliar "thing." Both cuffs were made of carbon steel with a chrome finish. One had a locking mechanism with teeth designed to fit into the slots of the second cuff, there by securing it. A thin chain, allowing some movement for the hands, connected the two cuffs. “This?” Despite having every right to remain silent, Mira decided to answer. “Like it?” Zoey slowly lowered the burning cold metal between the lawbreaker’s breasts. The cuffs were not only icy but also quite heavy. The still unarrested woman answered question with question: “Where did you get this?” The sheriff theatrically shrugged and spread her arms to the sides, sitting on her clenched thighs as comfortably as possible. Her warm fingers rested on the lawbreaker’s cool chest. Fingertips slowly slid toward the nipples, barely touching the swollen points, sending an electric current through Mira’s body, making her exhale heavily and tense up. Leaning toward her chest, Zoey pressed her cheek to one of them, continuing to caress the other hand. She looked up at her like a puppy. Slightly parted lips, with the tongue occasionally flicking out, looked damn attractive. The victim truly felt like one. From Zoey’s lips came a phrase, subtitles of which had just sounded in Mira’s mind: “Being this sexy is illegal.” The sheriff picked up the metal object with her finger, gripped it firmly, and stood up. She helped the captive raise her hands above her head, gently kissed her wrists, and then locked them in handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for article number…” — a quiet chuckle sounded near the ear peeking out from beneath the red hair. “Alright, baby? Twist your hands.” Zoey wrapped her fingers around her own wrist, indicating which part of the arm Mira needed to check. Mira hesitantly moved her hands. “Too tight,” her voice was uncertain, barely more than a whisper escaping her lips. Loosening the grip of the metal cuffs, the sheriff ordered her to check again — and seeing an approving nod, settled comfortably next to the arrested one. Her fingers immediately found the swollen nipples demanding special attention. The nails on the dominant hands were short, barely grazing the sensitive area. Soft pads of her fingers ran back and forth over the sensitive spots, making Mira twitch and squeeze her legs tighter. She hardly moaned — she wasn’t used to making those sounds herself. Instead, the bedroom walls echoed heavy, rapid breathing — no less loud than some moans. The girl wheezed and whimpered quietly, helplessly squirming under the dynamic caresses. In response to the sounds of another’s suffering, Zoey only laughed. Shaking her head, the sheriff clicked her tongue with mock regret and puckered her lips, indicating she was powerless. On the bedside vanity stood a tall glass filled with a clear liquid. Zoey wasn’t used to drinking plain water, so Rumi had advised her to always keep a filled glass nearby. The advice hadn’t become a habit, but now it was just right. Stretching out her hand, the maknae dipped two fingers into the glass, then quickly pressed them to Mira’s hard nipple. The sensation of cold made the girl cry out and clamp her legs shut, but hearing a soft “Shh” she quickly calmed and got used to the new temperature. After a while, when the sensitive area warmed up again, Zoey leaned in and sucked the nipple into her mouth, trying to warm it even more. Then it repeated once again. The younger girl moistened her fingers and sprinkled water on the warm nipples. Mira clenched her jaw, arched her back, and began greedily sucking in air through her clenched teeth. Meanwhile, Zoey glanced quickly at her legs, clad in loose black cargo pants. Stroking the tense thighs, the younger tried to soothe them and convince her captive that nothing bad was happening. Her vocabulary and courage to throw hot remarks seemed to have run out, as Zoey lacked the strength to ask if everything was alright. Instead, she shifted the focus of her gaze every second. She noticed every change in Mira’s behavior and adjusted her movements accordingly. Seeing that the girl was twisting her wrists too actively, Zoey slowly lowered her hands and relaxed the cuffs as much as possible. For several minutes, the captive massaged her wrists, receiving quick kisses on her fingers as a gift. When the wrist movements stopped, the sheriff allowed herself to cuff the thin wrists again, but this time she didn’t fix the hands above the head to prevent numbness. Instead, Mira bent her elbows and placed her hands between her breasts. “Do you want it?” Mira didn’t immediately understand what her “good cop” was asking about. Slightly raising her head, she noticed a hand resting on the waistband of her pants. The answer lingered too long in her chest, unwilling to come out. Zoey teased her, slightly pulling the edge of the garment, slipping her fingers under it, and touching the edge of the underwear. She had no idea if she wanted this. Until today, she had never lain under Zoey, nor had she touched herself for months. Mira’s lips parted, but no words came out. She felt deeply ashamed of her silence. “Kitten,” the rapper lay down next to her shoulder and removed her hands. “Still thinking about something bad?” Mira sighed heavily and bit her lower lip. She shyly shrugged and pressed closer to Zoey. Her voice was so quiet that even the walls couldn’t hear it. “I think… you’ll find it disgusting.” The younger one was not just shocked by what she heard — she was utterly stunned. Reaching for Mira’s face, she covered her lips with her own, greedily pulling them into her mouth. Maknae jumped back onto the girl’s hips, leaving wet marks on her face again — this time not from lip gloss. Mira felt the stranger’s body pressed tightly against her own. The captive couldn’t move her hands but could still control her fingers, which dug into Zoey’s hidden chest beneath the clothes. “I thought about her for a whole week,” the maknae quietly laughed in response to the sincere confession. Exactly a week ago, she had sent Mira that awkward nude that blew both their minds. The recipient — out of shame and embarrassment; the sender — out of laughter after hearing the story. Zoey trailed kisses downward, and when she reached the bound hands, she quickly unfastened the police shackles. Mira’s hands finally wrapped around the stranger’s back, pulling the warm body even closer. Long nails could finally scratch her again. Maknae’s gaze once again met the waistband of the pants. Raising a questioning look at Mira, she faced incomprehension once more. “I’ll take it very slowly,” Zoey sensed the girl’s body had relaxed enough. “And I’ve freed your hands.” Miss Sheriff gave a brief instruction, suggesting pulling her hair in case of an emergency. Too embarrassed for frank remarks, Mira deeply empathized with the offer. Grasping the edge of the pants with both hands, the maknae slowly pulled them down. The entire time, she looked up at Mira’s face, intent on making sure everything was alright. Finally, the pants hit the floor, and the long legs bent at the knees. Zoey hugged them with her arms, kissed the firm knees, and moved down along the calves. The other leg immediately started twitching, suspecting what her partner was about to do. But the girl only pressed one ankle more tightly against the other. Her dry lips moved lower and lower, and upon reaching the soles, stopped there. Zoey tilted her head and looked at Mira’s face, hidden behind her hands. “I haven’t even had time to take a shower yet…” The top one smiled gently, ran her lips along the back of the foot, leaving a few wet spots, then sharply spread both legs apart and rested them on her shoulders. Usually fragile, she looked incredibly dominant right now, which made her lower belly pulse and her hands clench everything nearby. The soft turtle was busy again. Her tongue smoothly slid upward, like a skater on ice. As soon as it approached the cherished area, the whole room was filled with a loud “Stop.” Zoey raised her eyes to the girl. Clutching the soft toy tightly to her chest, she resembled a kitten. The maknae raised an eyebrow in a questioning gesture, but the betraying “minus three” prevented Mira from reading it. “I don’t want you looking there.” The bottom one hurried to apologize for her “teenage” embarrassment and immediately received a slap on the thigh. Without further questions, Zoey got up, lay down a little higher than Mira, and rested her head on her shoulder, wrapping one arm around her. The other hand fell on her lower belly and began to stroke it soothingly. “I’m so strange. I feel bad about myself.” Miriads of kisses scattered over the girl’s head. Zoey couldn’t clearly remember her first time. Only that it wasn’t with Mira and happened in a somewhat intoxicated state. After that, her attitude toward sex changed radically. The sacred and tender no longer seemed so; the longing anticipation of the first intimacy shattered against her own foolishness. “Not at all, sweetheart. In my eyes, you are the best, the most beautiful and desired.” But she remembers her first meeting with Mira perfectly. That day she was terribly late to the meeting because of a delayed flight. Celine decided to gather the future star trio at her place to clarify their upcoming duties and give the girls a chance to get to know each other. Rumi and Mira had crossed paths a few times before at banquets organized by the latter’s family, both for reasons and for no reason. Celine had come to some of those events as a guest — always with her “adopted daughter.” These suspicious visits had started exactly six months before the first official meeting. “May I continue?” Zoey received official permission, expressed by a quick nod. By the time the American reached the tall skyscraper with thousands of offices, night had already fallen. Foolishly, she had forgotten to buy a South Korean SIM card, so Zoey couldn’t even contact anyone to warn about the sudden problem. She doubted whether it was even worth announcing herself at such an hour. Moreover, she was convinced that her first impression was ruined for everyone at the meeting. But still, Zoey decided to try her luck before checking into the hotel and went to the address she had written down in her notebook. “You’re so wet,” long nails pressed harder into the waist hidden beneath fabric. The whole palm rested on the pubic area covered by underwear; a finger began to slowly stroke the moist labia. Mira buried her nose in Zoey’s neck, starting to breathe heavily and nibble on her. When Zoey was escorted to Celine’s office for the meeting, she stood by the door for a long time, rehearsing her apologies. Instead of entering with a shy look, Zoey had to struggle to forget all the unpleasant words in her vocabulary when the glass door was pushed open from the inside by a tall silhouette. Before her stood a sleepy figure constantly covering her yawning mouth with one hand. Zoey’s attention was immediately drawn to the heavy men’s watch shining on her wrist. She was invited inside and told to take any seat she liked. “Does it feel good?” the long finger had already quickened and pressed harder on the heated spot. In response, Mira quickly nodded and for the first time all evening moaned an excited “Yes… yes.” The unfamiliar figure rushed to the electric kettle, filled it with water, and pressed the faulty button several times. Then she climbed onto the countertop, settling comfortably with her legs spread wide. One hand frequently adjusted her thick, very long red hair, tossing it from one side to the other. She briefly outlined the situation, mentioning that nobody was even angry with her. Then the girl introduced herself, and Zoey slowly repeated the short name, savoring it. At that moment, it reminded her of a sweet strawberry cake. Or maybe raspberry. “Take it off,” Mira pulled her legs, signaling to get rid of the bothersome underwear. The maknae obediently followed instructions, freeing one of her partner’s legs from the panties, leaving them dangling from the ankle of the other. Zoey raised her palm to her face, slipped two fingers into her mouth, and generously moistened them with thick saliva. Mira brewed tea for them, put it on the table, and sat in a chair opposite her new acquaintance, still sitting with legs wide apart. Catching the evaluating gaze, she asked without a hint of embarrassment whether she was liked by the foreigner. The other’s face flushed deeply, and the first burst into a low, chesty laugh. The girl hurried to apologize for her cheekiness and expressed hope that her jokes wouldn’t cause discomfort to the newcomer in the future. To Zoey’s surprise, the first thing this person asked was neither her name nor the reason for being late, but her age. Probably, the maknae still struggled to get used to Korean customs and traditions. “Faster,” the fingers accelerated. Mira moaned louder, no longer shy, pressing herself against her partner’s body. Zoey lowered a finger to the entrance of the vagina, to which the older one responded by swaying her hips, nonverbally allowing entry. The middle finger slipped into the wet core, and Mira arched her back, moaning in an overly pornographic way. The girl congratulated the newly arrived one on becoming the maknae and announced her own age in response. Only then did the cheeky one ask her name. Admitting that she would be the first person she knew with such an unusual name, Mira raised a tiny teacup as if giving a toast. Neither of them was used to drinking tea in everyday life, but in each other’s company, the tea ceremony went surprisingly well. They soon got talking and found many common topics to discuss. When Mira began to fall asleep, Zoey was already about to leave, but the older one flatly forbade her to go out alone at night, instead pointing to the sofa next to the chair. “I think I’m going to…” fingers covered the clitoris again, making sharp circles over it without losing pace. Hips moved to meet the dynamic motions, hot breath burning Zoey’s neck. Mira buried her face in a pillow, promising not to peek while Zoey changed. Taking a long home T-shirt from her suitcase, the American started undressing and changing into home clothes. The white shirt soon lay over the back of one of the chairs — along with the trousers with a heavy belt and the bra. A ton of jewelry had to spend the night next to a tea kettle nearing its last days. The black T-shirt with a large white dragon wrapped around Zoey’s body, after which she quietly said, “Done.” Mira threw the pillow that had covered her face onto the sofa and curled up in the chair. In fact, she was peeking. “Zoey, honey, I…” — a couple of sharp pushes toward her — and a painful electric shock shot through her body. Mira screamed abruptly, hiding her face between Zoey’s neck and shoulder. Zoey’s other hand tenderly stroked her shoulder, holding her as tightly as she could. The clitoris began to pulse under the wet fingers, confirming the wave of burning orgasm. Mira’s whole body started trembling. She needed some time to come to her senses and start thinking clearly. For the first time all day, her body truly relaxed and dissolved in familiar embraces and caresses. She couldn’t catch her breath for a long time, so Zoey had to raise the volume of her own breathing, allowing her partner to adjust. After a while, the maknae dared to break the silence: “Was it… good?” Mira pulled away from Zoey and fell onto her back next to her. “It was wonderful.” The younger one carefully handed her the same glass of water, which they quickly emptied together. Straightening the bed, Zoey invited Mira to stay the night with her. “Do you think I have the strength to walk seven meters to my room?” The naked body gladly fell onto the cool bedding, inhaling the fresh scent of laundry detergent. “Definitely not,” the voice assistant on the phone quickly responded in English: “Playing Kordhell — ‘Deadly Verses.’”