When Faye’s hands moved to Yoko’s sides, they pressed into her waist, feeling the curve of her hips through the fabric of her clothing. Faye’s fingers spread out, covering the expanse of Yoko’s sides, her touch becoming more assertive as she squeezed and kneaded the soft flesh beneath. The fabric of Yoko’s top bunched slightly under Faye’s pressure, creating a pleasing friction that made Yoko’s breath catch.

make it longer without continuing it