The Porn Advocate

Reagan Foxx lounges at home when Ginger Banks raps on her door. Reagan cracks it open wearing a tight-lipped housewife smile. "No thanks, honey, my husband handles the finances." Ginger plants a foot on the threshold, bubbly as ever. "I'm not here to sell you anything. Girlsway needs your eyes on a bill that hurts working women." Reagan figures one quick listen won't kill her and lets her in. Inside, Ginger's all facts and fire—laws punishing porn stars, censorship hiding behind morality. Reagan shrugs it off. "Porn always leads to trouble." Ginger grins, pulls out her tablet, and scrolls through Girlsway. Reagan mutters disapproval, but her gaze keeps flicking back to the slick, unapologetic clips. Tension coils low in her belly every time Ginger names a new toy, every time a close-up fills the screen. Ginger studies her. "Can I ask something personal?" Reagan nods once. "You ever been with a girl?" Reagan stiffens. "I'm married—to a man." Ginger shifts, palm sliding onto Reagan's thigh. "No pressure," she purrs. "Unless you want me to change your mind." The kiss she plants is warm, hungry, and takes what little resistance Reagan had left. Whatever comes next, Reagan's done pretending she isn't curious.