Back to "tell me", then: Pearl swallows any further words that might have foolishly left her mouth. Her pussy throbs, as if beckoned by Rose's description, and she lifts her hips with an inarticulate little cry.

She turns her wrist, slightly, and the water jets a little higher, leaping against gravity. The new angle hits her clit in a different way - resensitizes her all over again -- and she has to pull away a little bit, just a little, no more than a careful half inch. She hopes Rose doesn't notice: she's sure that Rose does. For Rose's eyes are fixed upon her as surely as Pearl's are fixed on Rose, hypnotized by the way Rose's hips are moving, the sly allure written in every cursive line of her body --

She hasn't taken even a stitch of clothing off yet, has she? God.