Hail Mary

“Ever been kissed?” She didn’t wait for the answer, she didn’t need to, the point was moot once her lips closed over Mary’s mouth.

She tasted like smoke, Mary reflected; cigarettes and bourbon and something sweeter. The sweetness was the strongest taste. She liked it. She broke off the kiss and Mary breathed a sigh then managed to say: “Eve?” The girls were pressed together in the passenger seat before they really knew what was going on, pushing it back as tongues explored clumsily and a hand went down the waistband of Mary’s jeans. This time Mary broke away and lifted her eyes to the bright silver moon, crying out softly while Eve moved to kiss her neck, her fingers delving deeply into the warm, moist and dark places of the younger girl’s body. The pearled buttons of her blouse came open easily and lips caressed sensitive skin with practiced skill.

They ignored the nun pounding on the window, it was too late, she had already penetrated a part of the pious girl’s soul that the sermons on Sunday never had.

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