"What--" Amy gulps. "What do you want?"
Cordelia's hands are on her hips, pom poms still in them. "Do you know how to lick pussy?"
Amy's eyes widen. She's scared. "Wh-- what?"
"Pussy." Cordelia says it casually, as if they're talking about the tryouts still. She enunciates every word. "Do you know how to lick it?"
"I." Amy is sitting on the bench, looking up at Cordelia, of course. Of course. And suddenly, Cordelia drops the pop-poms, puts a foot up on the bench, leg cocked. She has ankle socks on and trainers. Amy dares to glance under her skirt, and sees Cordelia's panties, red. If she squints, she can imagine that they're a little wet.
Cordelia smirks, waiting, head tilted. "It's easy, Amy," she says. "You take your hands," and with a final gulp, Amy does, "put them on my hips." When they're resting on her hips, just like Cordelia said, Amy feels even more frightened, like a deer. Cordelia tilts her pelvis, just a little. "Good. Right."
Amy waits for further instructions, and Cordelia sighs impatiently. "Do I have to do everything myself?" Cordelia's fingers come to rest on Amy's head. Amy's ponytail feels very, very tight. Cordelia pulls her head under her skirt, lets Amy hover a few inches from actual skin. "Now, do you get the picture, or should I draw you one?"
There's a, a smell. Amy inhales. A smell, even through the red satin cloth. "I, you want me to."
Cordelia's voice is very far away, and Amy hears her lean against the lockers, the rattle of the doors as she makes herself comfortable on them. "Go to town. Do it."
It's not Amy's imagination. There's a wet patch, right in front of her face, right where she could put her mouth. After a hesitant moment, Amy leans in, and touches the wet with the tip of her tongue. Somewhere above her, Cordelia gasps.