Arrow Lake [m] cool about it

the pale man was sensual in his ministrations, rough in all the right ways and gentle in others. wren's darkened gaze never once leaves the warm face of her wife in the hopes that she will like what she sees. burning, ravenous; mouth dry and thighs quaking; but by the time he parts from her and moves toward silvertongue, she is more than ready to tend to the inexperienced boy.
it became more for his pleasure than hers when she turns to the blond, moulding him and shaping him in her hand; biting with a sharp nip that is then soothed with a kiss. for his sake, she hopes that perhaps she looks enough of the part for him to gain real enjoyment from it.

in the haze of afterglow, wren is eager to return to the side of her wife. a nip to her ear, her jaw, her neck; a wordless love letter that says i will do for you what men cannot once we are alone. she makes it known that only she is allowed to be tender with her; that she is her home, and that, as promised, from here on they may only look and bask in her glimmering beauty if they wish to linger.
but a careful look is reserved only for the shy boy, the one who the wives felt a camaraderie with. she gives him a small, playful grin that says thank you.