I watch them meet in the courtyard: Tati Devassa, towering in jeans and heels, and Vivia in her red top, looking up at her. Tati has been thinking about those lips since the last time. They move to the white bed, and soon there is nothing between them but tongues. They kiss deep and wet, suck each other's tongues, lick and taste until it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. Tati takes control of every kiss: slow, then hungry, then overwhelming. Vivia melts into it and begs for one more.

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