"Was it good?" she asked breathlessly. Madri didn't speak. Instead she clasped Callista around her ears and pulled her face in. Their lips met, and this time the kissing was more passionate, less cautious. Madri drove her tongue into Callista's mouth, tasting the girl, and let Callista drive slide her tongue into her throat.

"Your turn," Madri said, grabbing the girl's t-shirt and quickly whipping it over her head. She put her palm on Callista's right breast, letting her fingers sink into the flesh. She pushed the girl back, first onto her butt, and then onto her back on the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Madri unbuttoned her own...