Hot jeans

Charlene spun around the bedroom modeling her new jean dress like she'd hit the fashion jackpot. Laima watched from the edge of the bed and suddenly leaned in close, hands hungry. Her fingers traced down denim straps, then ducked under the rough cloth until warm skin met her palm. Charlene let out a shaky laugh. Laima's touch wandered across tender curves hiding beneath stiff blue fabric, slow at first, then bolder. Every press of her fingertips sent a little jolt through the thin strip of teenage belly exposed whenever the dress shifted. She wasn't about to stop, and Charlene sure didn't seem to mind.