Allie emerged from the bedroom slowly, as if she were aware of every eye on her. The dress clung to her in a way that felt intentional, dark, known, and unapologetic. It was one she used to wear years ago, back when experimentation had felt like permission rather than possibility. Back when she and Jack had gone looking for something unnamed and electric, but never fully found it.
Lynn felt it immediately.
Not just attraction. Recognition. The way Allie held herself—shoulders back, chin lifted—like a version of herself that had been waiting patiently to return. Lynn’s breath caught, unguarded, and she didn’t bother hiding it.
The blue dress was trouble. Impossibly short, stopping well before mid-thigh, daring anyone to look twice. The neckline plunged straight to Allie’s navel, exposing more than it concealed. Her breasts were barely held in place by fabric that looked one breath from failing. The top hung loose, precarious, as if a shift or a laugh might be enough to let a nipple slip free. It wasn’t accidental. The dress wasn’t meant to cover—it was meant to test.
Allie noticed.
She crossed the room with easy confidence, closing the space without asking, hips swaying just enough to draw attention. Her breasts threatened to reveal themselves with every movement. She pressed close, not touching at first, letting heat and proximity do the work. Then she did touch—hands light, exploratory, resting at Lynn’s waist as if they already knew where they belonged.
Lynn responded instinctively, hands settling at Allie’s sides, thumbs brushing fabric, skin, promise. When they kissed, it was slow and deep, the kind of kiss that took its time learning shape and rhythm. Jack watched from where he stood, still and attentive, content in his role as witness.
When they finally parted, Lynn smiled softly.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said, voice low. “Absolutely sexy.”
Allie laughed under her breath, a little bashful despite herself. “It’s mostly the dress.”
Lynn tilted her head, eyes warm but sharp. “You think a dress could do that for me?”
Allie reached for her hand without hesitation. “Come with me.”
She led Lynn into the bedroom and straight into the walk-in closet, the light clicking on to reveal rows of carefully chosen pieces. Allie moved through them with purpose before pulling free a black dress, sleek, simple, and unmistakably intentional. Similar to the one she wore now, but different enough to feel like a choice.
She handed it to Lynn, fingers lingering just a moment. “Put this on,” she said softly. Then, just as deliberately, she stepped back out, closing the door behind her.
Alone, Lynn exhaled.
She changed slowly, letting the moment stretch. When the dress settled against her skin, she turned toward the mirror.
The woman looking back at her was not what she expected.
She was used to her outward display of calmness, but it rarely came with this much exposed skin. She wore bikinis at the lake, sure, but this was a dress. Or at least it was supposed to be.
The bottom barely covered her ass. And like with Allie’s dress, her tits were not going to stay covered for long. Especially if dancing were involved.
She twisted back and forth, mimicking a dance move and sure enough, out they came. She giggled a little. “I’d fuck me” was the final assessment.
She smiled at her reflection one last time, not out of vanity, but certainty.
When she stepped back into the room, Jack looked up and blinked.
“Well,” he said, grinning, “that’s one way to come out of the closet.”
The tension broke just enough for laughter to ripple through the room, easing into something comfortable and charged all at once. Lynn met Allie’s gaze across the space, steady and inviting.
Lynn accepted Jack’s joke with an easy smile, then let the room settle again. She didn’t pose or wait for approval. She simply stood there, letting the dress exist on her body exactly as it was meant to.
Allie didn’t laugh this time.
Her breath caught instead.
She’d seen pictures, carefully framed, intentionally shared, but this was different. Seeing Lynn here, in one of her dresses, shifted something deeper. The cut was familiar. The exposure was expected. What wasn’t familiar was Lynn inside it, calm, assured, unapologetic.
Allie’s eyes traced her openly. The way the fabric hugged her hips. The way it barely held where it should. The way Lynn didn’t adjust or apologize. She wore it like a decision.
Heat bloomed low in Allie’s stomach, sudden and centering. This wasn’t curiosity. This wasn’t theory.
This was reality.
Jack noticed immediately, not the details, but the focus. He stayed where he was, relaxed, letting the moment belong to them.
Lynn met Allie’s gaze again, knowing.
“I’ve imagined this,” Allie admitted softly. “I didn’t expect it to feel like this.”
Lynn tilted her head. “Better?”
“Much.”
The joke had done its work. What remained was want, clear, shared, and finally unguarded.
Jack crossed the room and tapped the speaker. Usher rolled in low and smooth, nostalgic and inviting.
Allie felt it before she thought about it. Her hips shifted, shoulders loosening as the rhythm settled into her bones. This was a language she already spoke. She began to sway, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving Lynn’s.
Wanting.
Desiring.
Inviting.
Lynn watched for a moment, then stepped forward. Her movements weren’t as fluid, there was hesitation there, a learning curve, but she didn’t stop. She found the beat piece by piece, hips rolling with growing confidence. The dress shifted with her, revealing just enough.
Allie noticed immediately. Her smile softened, not perfection she was responding to, but willingness.
Jack leaned back against the wall, content to watch.
Allie swayed closer, matching Lynn instead of leading. Their movements echoed, imperfect but aligned. Lynn caught Allie’s glance and leaned into the rhythm, smiling.
The distance between them closed naturally.
Allie’s hands settled at Lynn’s hips, firm and steadying. Lynn’s hands slid up Allie’s arms to her neck, resting there, holding, not pulling. They moved together now, breath and proximity replacing music.
Their eyes stayed locked.
Then their lips met.
Gentle at first. Exploratory. A confirmation more than a question. When the kiss deepened, hunger followed, slow, deliberate, unmistakable.
Jack moved in behind Allie without hurry. His hands found her hips like muscle memory, familiar and steady. Allie leaned back into him, not breaking the kiss, acknowledging him with her body.
Lynn felt the shift and adjusted, hands firmer now at Allie’s shoulders. This wasn’t interruption, it was inclusion.
Three bodies, one rhythm.
Jack’s mouth found Allie’s neck, unhurried. She broke the kiss, head tilting back, eyes closing as pleasure spread slow and deep through her body. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.
Lynn watched her soften, yield without disappearing.
She caught Jack’s eye over Allie’s shoulder. The nod was subtle. Permission without words.
Lynn’s hands traced the open line of Allie’s dress, collarbone first, then down. When her hands slipped beneath the fabric, Allie shivered, breath hitching as sensation layered and built.
A low, involuntary sound escaped her.
Jack steadied her at the hips, anchoring her as the moment deepened.
Nothing about this was rushed. Nothing here was accidental.
Lynn guided the fabric open, slow and deliberate. The dress gave way just enough. The fabric sliding across Allie’s nipples caused them to harden even more, as if that was possible.
Cool air met warm skin.
Allie inhaled sharply, head tipping back against Jack’s shoulder. He murmured close to her temple, “You’re beautiful,” not encouragement, acknowledgment.
Lynn paused there, letting the exposure exist, watching Allie’s confidence and trust settle into the space.
The room felt smaller. The music slower. The moment suspended.
Lynn leaned in. Taking Allie’s nipple into her mouth. A nibble, a lick, a little suction. She knew how this was done, and Allie’s response told her everything she needed to know.
Allie felt her before she fully registered it, the warmth, the closeness, the anticipation. Her hands gripped Lynn’s shoulders as sensation flared bright and consuming.
Jack’s hold became steadier, more necessary.
Lynn didn’t rush. She stayed there, steady and sure, letting the moment bloom fully.
Allie’s eyes remained closed, her breath uneven, any remaining control dissolving into trust and certainty.
Lynn wasn’t about to let up. She knew where Allie wanted to go, that much had already been made clear, and she had no intention of giving her space for second thoughts.
She broke her focus and began to sink lower, her movements deliberate and unhurried. The way her own dress had slid up, leaving her exposed, barely registered. Jack was still behind Allie. That was enough.
Her kisses continued, teasing and searching, circling without landing.
Allie couldn’t take it any longer. She grabbed two handfuls of Lynn’s hair and pulled her in, a sharp groan escaping her as the anticipation finally shattered.
With practiced ease, Lynn’s tongue danced around Allie’s pussy with wanton abandon. Allie could only stand with Jack’s help, help he was happy to provide.
When release finally crested, it moved through her in waves, deep and unguarded. She cried out once, then again, knees weakening as Jack held her upright, solid and present. Lynn stayed with her through it, steady and unflinching, until the intensity softened into breath and warmth and stillness.
For a moment, none of them moved.
Allie rested against Jack, eyes still closed, breath slowly finding its way back to her. Lynn remained close, her presence centering, undeniable. The music continued quietly in the background, no longer leading, just witnessing.
When Allie finally opened her eyes, she looked at Lynn first.
Something unspoken passed between them, something settled.
Jack smiled to himself, already knowing what came next.
“Bedroom?” he asked gently.
No one answered right away.
They did not need to.
