Lindsay and Tina strode confidently through the lobby to the five-star restaurant, stiletto heels clicking in perfect rhythm, wearing their newly purchased, completely impractical dresses that drew glances from every direction. Lindsay’s was a dark crimson sheath that clung to her curves, so snug she had to forgo underwear entirely, her boobs threatening to spill out of the plunging neckline with each step. The hem landed halfway down her thighs, potentially allowing the world quite a view every time she sat down. Tina’s lizard-green chiffon cowl dress, which shimmered under the lobby’s crystal chandeliers, accentuated her body. Her areola played peekaboo through the fabric, while the dark triangle between her legs cast a shadowy silhouette that was sometimes concealed, sometimes revealed by the movement of the sheer material against her skin. The back, a dramatic V that exposed the full topography of her spine, dipped so daringly that it revealed the first shadowy inch of her gluteal cleft. With each step, the garment stretched across her bottom, defining the hemisphere of each cheek.
After sharing a light meal of butter-poached sea scallops that melted on their tongues, paired with an expensive bottle of chardonnay, they took the glass elevator up to Skyline, the resort’s rotating rooftop nightclub. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a dizzying panorama of moonlit beaches and diamond-scattered ocean that slowly revolved around them. The deep bass vibrated through space while colored lights pulsed across the bodies on the dance floor.
They claimed a vacant high-top table with a glossy obsidian surface that caught the strobing lights overhead. A cute waitress with short purple-black hair, cut in a sharp asymmetrical bob that accentuated her high cheekbones, slinked toward them and took their order with a practiced smile. She was wearing a tiny metallic dress that barely covered her hips and adhered to her body like liquid mercury. As she pivoted away, they noticed that the hem was so high it revealed lacy black panties hugging the perfect curve of her ass. Tina met Lindsay’s gaze, both of them breaking into slow, appreciative smiles of unspoken approval.
Lindsay sipped her blood orange tequila sunrise, the crimson-amber liquid catching the pulsing blue lights as she tilted the tumbler to her lips. Tina nursed a lemon drop martini, running a finger around the sugar-crusted rim before licking it clean with a flick of her tongue. They surveyed the crowd: vacationing couples in resort casual; fraternity boys with gelled hair and popped collars doing shots at the bar; a bachelorette party of girls in micro-dresses shrieking with exaggerated laughter; silver-haired men in rumpled suits eye-fucking every twenty-something that crossed their field of vision; and dark-skinned locals who moved with easy confidence and knowing smiles of those who belonged.
Their cocktails were around half finished when a man materialized at their table, his cologne, something expensive and exotic, announcing his arrival. His Armani jacket hung open over a silk shirt, and a Hermès belt cinched his designer jeans. He leaned in close, his five o’clock shadow nearly brushing Lindsay’s bare shoulder. “Hi, I’m Ken,” he half-shouted over the throbbing bass. His manicured finger pointed toward a corner booth where four men sat watching with interest, a bottle on the table and glasses of amber liquid in their hands. “My friends and I wanted to know how much for the evening?” The question hung in the air, his eyes darting between them with the calculating appraisal of a man accustomed to transactions rather than connections, leaving no doubt about his assumption of their profession.
Tina’s brow furrowed in confusion as she leaned forward, her martini glass suspended halfway to her lips. The music pounded in her ears, making her certain she’d misheard him. Lindsay, however, looked over her shoulder at the table of men, then back to Ken, the corner of her crimson-painted mouth curling upward. Behind that wry smile, she was tallying figures; the first-class airfare, the overpriced cost of their room and meals, the spa treatments and shopping spree, then multiplying her estimate to cover future outings. “Thirty thousand,” she proffered, trailing her fingers along the sleeve of his jacket before letting them linger on the gold Rolex that gleamed against his tanned wrist.
Ken’s eyes widened momentarily in disbelief, catching the dance-floor lights, before a slow, practiced smirk appeared on his lips. His gaze flicked to Lindsay’s cleavage, to the flash of bare thigh beneath Tina’s green dress, then back to their faces, searching for any hint that his question had been met with sarcasm. “Thirty K total, or per?” he volleyed, his own drunken bravado covering for whatever doubts curdled behind his eyes.
Lindsay was thinking total, but since he asked and seeing the diamonds encircling his watch face, she answered, “Per,” with a honeyed drawl. She hooked one lacquered fingernail beneath the fabric of her neckline, slowly tugging it sideways until her soft pink nipple emerged, a deliberate flash of flesh that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Ken’s gaze followed her movement, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, leaving it glistening under the flashing lights. “Let me confer with my colleagues,” he said, as he raked his eyes over them like treasures on auction at Sotheby’s.
Lindsay’s eyes followed Ken as he threaded back through the writhing bodies on the dance floor, savoring the ripple of anticipation that trailed his retreat. She tilted her head back, ice cubes clinking against her teeth as she drained her glass, the tequila burning a warm path down her throat. When she lowered the glass, Tina was already leaning in, her perfume enveloping them both in a cloud of intimacy, her lips brushing the shell of Lindsay’s ear. “So we’re high-class hookers now?” she asked, her voice pitched somewhere between a giggle and a gasp, trembling with the paradoxical mixture of fear and arousal.
Lindsay laughed, the warmth of her booze-scented breath tickling Tina’s neck. “We were going to get fucked tonight by someone anyway,” she responded, “might as well have our entire trip paid for by men who can clearly afford it.”
Tina glanced over her shoulder at the table of men, watching them gesticulate wildly like Wall Street traders. Ken finally disengaged from their huddle and wove his way back through the undulating crowd, a thin sheen of sweat now beading along his receding hairline. “We’re interested,” he said, leaning close enough that they could smell the bourbon on his breath mingling with his cologne, “but would like to go someplace more quiet to discuss terms.”
Lindsay slid off her stool, her tight dress riding up her thighs as she moved, giving the patrons behind her a quick flash of her bare bottom. “Fair enough,” she said, tugging the hem of her dress back into place. “Pick up our tab and meet us downstairs in the Sapphire Lounge off the lobby.” She pressed her palm against the crotch of his dark jeans and squeezed the bulge before turning away, Tina following in her perfumed wake.
Downstairs, the Sapphire Lounge glimmered with the same calculated opulence as the rest of the resort. Booths upholstered in buttery tan leather hugged the shadowy perimeter, each offering a fragment of privacy. The lighting, mostly indirect through smoked glass and low-hung pendants, bathed the space in a sensual dusk. Lindsay and Tina located a semi-secluded booth against the wall, sinking into the banquette, the surface cool against their bare thighs.
The five men arrived minutes later, led by Ken, who swaggered in with easy confidence. Behind him strode a silver-haired gentleman, Italian loafers whispering against the floor, platinum cufflinks winking beneath recessed lighting, and a Jersey Shore type, his lavender shirt stretched taut across gym-sculpted pectorals, a thick gold chain nestled in a forest of dark chest hair. The remaining two hung back slightly: one with shoulders hunched inside an ill-fitting blazer that strained across his paunch as he fidgeted with his wedding ring, sliding it nervously on and off, and a rail-thin man with darting ferret-like eyes scanning the room as if expecting to spot his wife or the vice squad lurking in the shadows. They slid around the table, the men flanking the women as they settled in. Ken claimed the spot beside Lindsay, his hand brushing her bare thigh, while the gym rat sprawled with legs wide open and pressed his knee up against Tina’s thigh.
Ken caught the eye of the cocktail waitress, holding up two fingers in a beckoning gesture that suggested he was accustomed to being obeyed. “Pappy Van Winkle 15, bring the bottle.” The waitress returned briskly, opening the bottle with a flourish before pouring delicate streams of the honey-colored bourbon into crystal glasses.
The men went around the table and introduced themselves. “The name’s Davey, but everyone calls me Guido,” said the Jersey guy, sounding like he came off the set of The Sopranos. “Leonard,” announced the silver fox with the cufflinks, lifting his glass in an understated salute and taking a small sip. “Donald,” the ill-at-ease married man said quietly, it was obvious he was peer-pressured into going along. “Eli,” the nervous one mumbled, his pupils still tracking around the room.
Lindsay traced a finger along the rim of her glass. “I’m Kaylee,” she said, her tone like velvet. Tina hesitated for a beat before following her lead. “Inara,” she offered coquettishly. Donald chuckled softly. “I swear by my pretty floral bonnet,” he murmured, glancing around at his oblivious companions before meeting Tina’s sparkling hazel eyes. She gave him a smile and a quick wink, putting him a little more at ease.
Ken leaned forward, his watch catching the ambient light as he swirled the bourbon in his glass. “So,” he said, voice dropping to a conspiratorial baritone, “let’s discuss the terms of our little business arrangement.”
Lindsay set down her tumbler with a soft clunk against the table. “No watersports, no scat, no S&M stuff,” she said, tapping a polished nail against the table with each item, “and my friend, Inara, doesn’t do anal.” She ran her tongue slowly around her full lips. “You may take pictures and videos, but only for you to jack off to later. I want a business card from each of you, and gentlemen,” she leaned in, her voice turning frosty, “if any of this shows up on the web, I will personally ensure your wives, children, and businesses know every sordid detail. I will ruin your lives.” She sat back and took a sip of her whiskey, savoring the smoky burn as it coated her tongue, her friendly tone returning. “Thirty thousand each, transferred into our accounts before we leave this table, and you have us until sunrise. Any questions?”
The men exchanged glances across the table’s polished expanse, their faces a gallery of conflicting emotions: lust battling with caution, primal desire wrestling with fear. Leonard’s silver eyebrows arched imperceptibly while Guido’s jaw muscle twitched. Donald twisted his wedding band so vigorously it left a raw pink circle on his finger, and Eli’s ferret eyes darted toward the exit as if calculating escape routes. Ken broke the tension first, reaching into his tailored jacket to extract a sleek titanium case. From it, he produced a matte black business card embossed with silver lettering and his iPhone. The screen illuminated his face from below as he navigated to his banking app, the blue light highlighting the crow’s feet around his eyes. His thumb danced across the display before he slid both items over. Lindsay clicked against the screen as she entered her information, her pupils dilating slightly when the confirmation tone chimed like a casino slot machine paying out. Tina followed suit, her hands trembling almost imperceptibly as she completed her transaction, the nail of her index finger clicking against the screen with each digit she entered.
The remaining men completed the ritual in turn: Leonard withdrew a platinum device that gleamed like his cufflinks, Guido fumbled with a phone bearing a spiderweb crack across one corner, Donald’s trembling hands left moisture prints on his phone case, and Eli stabbed at his screen repeatedly, cursing under his breath as he mistyped his banking information and had to start over. Tina arranged all the business cards in neat rows on the table, their crisp edges aligned with mathematical precision, and snapped a picture with her phone. She watched the spinning wheel as the image uploaded to her encrypted cloud storage, their insurance policy pixelating into digital permanence.
After Ken drained the last of his liquor, his lips curled into a smile that spread across his face. His eyes, glassy with bourbon and anticipation, fixed on Lindsay’s cleavage as he leaned forward. “Shall we take this party up to my suite?” he asked, his voice low and silky, not expecting any answer but yes.
Within minutes, Lindsay and Tina found themselves swept along through a discrete side corridor off the lobby, the men falling into formation around them. At the elevator bank, Ken palmed a keycard and pressed the button for the penthouse, looking over his shoulder to give them a wink as the doors closed behind them.
The elevator ascended with a silken hum, its mirrored interior multiplying their reflections into an infinity of watchers and watched. Lindsay caught competing scents: Leonard’s sandalwood cologne, Guido’s pungent Acqua di Gio, and beneath it all, the unmistakable musk of male arousal. Tina felt a hand, it really didn’t matter whose, cup the curve of her bottom through her dress, kneading slightly. The silent tension of the space increased with each passing floor, numbers illuminating in sequence above the door, so by the time they reached the penthouse level, the enclosure seemed to pulse with barely contained energy, like a shaken champagne bottle ready to explode.
The doors slid open to reveal a sprawling suite, a cathedral of glass and pale stone, the far wall lined with windows that offered an endless panorama of the Caribbean night. The interior was furnished in dense, masculine luxury: enormous leather sectional couches, a sculptural grand piano, a marble-topped wet bar lined with top-shelf spirits and Cuban cigars, the walls and niches adorned with art that looked like it belonged in a gallery. The floor underfoot alternated between black-veined honed marble and pale wool carpets woven with a houndstooth pattern.
Ken swept them to the living room and immediately busied himself at the bar, pouring expensive whiskey over large, clear ice cubes. Without fuss or delay, Guido unbuttoned his lavender shirt and threw himself onto the leather chaise, legs flopped open, one hand idly playing with the bulge at his crotch as he grinned at Tina. Donald, true to his nervous form, made directly for the corner and perched uncomfortably on a Barcelona chair, his knees pressed together, hands folded over his lap. Eli joined Ken at the bar and immediately slugged down his bourbon, tapping the rim of the glass for a refill. Leonard retained the glacial calm of a CEO, unbuttoning his linen blazer and settling onto the sofa, crossing his legs with slow, deliberate dignity. His gaze never left Lindsay, as if there were only the two of them in the room.
Tina found herself hovering in the middle of the space, Lindsay at her side, the tableau of five men arrayed before her. In that moment, the logic of the situation, what she and Lindsay were now contractually obliged to perform, skidded briefly out of focus before snapping back into place, every nerve ending firing with a cocktail of dread and reckless excitement.
Ken’s lips curled into a wolfish grin as he moved between the men, distributing cut-crystal lowball glasses filled with amber liquid. “Why don’t you ladies give us a little show?” he suggested, his voice a silken command, eyes glittering with excitement.
Tina’s eyes widened at the suggestion as Lindsay stepped in front of her. Up until two days ago, when they openly masturbated together, she had never even considered doing anything intimate with her best friend. Lindsay registered the look of panic in Tina’s expression, the slight tremor in her lower lip, and whispered softly, “It’s fine,” her thumb brushing a stray hair from Tina’s cheek before pressing her lips against Tina’s in a loving, but smoldering, kiss.
Deepening the kiss, Lindsay’s tongue, slow and deliberate, parted Tina’s lips. Tina let her hands float to Lindsay’s waist, fingertips tracing the satin texture of her dress. They kissed with the exaggerated caution of first-timers that gave way quickly to open-mouthed hunger, momentarily forgetting they were the center of attention.
Lindsay brushed her lips to Tina’s earlobe and whispered, “Unzip me,” her warm breath sending goosebumps cascading down Tina’s back. With trembling fingers, Tina traced a line up Lindsay’s spine, finally locating the tiny silver zipper pull nestled beneath a curtain of blonde hair. She slowly lowered it, the metal teeth parting with a hushed rasp that seemed deafening in the charged silence, revealing a widening expanse of golden skin still marked with faint tan lines. The men leaned forward, drinks abandoned mid-sip, eyes glazed and unblinking as Tina peeled the crimson fabric, slippery as a rose petal, down Lindsay’s shoulders, letting it bunch around her narrow waist. Lindsay’s breasts, full and soft, bounced free, her nipples already flushed from arousal, beginning to stiffen. Tina cupped one breast with reverent hesitation, letting her thumb trace slow, deliberate circles around the tightening bud until Lindsay’s breath caught, then lowered her mouth and took the sensitive peak between her lips, suckling her friend.
Lindsay arched her back slightly, one hand cradling the back of Tina’s head, fingers tangling in the dark strands, holding her there as Tina’s warm, soft mouth worshipped her tits. Her other hand worked her dress over the swell of her hips with deliberate slowness, the satin fabric whispering against her skin before finally surrendering to gravity and pooling around her ankles. She stepped free, now completely naked except for her strappy red stilettos and a thin gold anklet.
Lindsay cupped Tina’s chin with slender fingers, drawing her up for another kiss. This one was deeper, hungrier, her tongue sliding into Tina’s mouth with deliberate, possessive strokes that made Tina’s knees weaken. Tina responded with growing urgency, her hands cupping Lindsay’s breasts, feeling the weight of them against her palms as she kneaded the soft mounds. Lindsay broke away, her lips still brushing against Tina’s, warm breath mingling between them as she whispered, “Let’s get you out of that dress.”
Tina reluctantly released Lindsay’s breasts, her fingers lingering on the hardened nipples before her arms dropped to her sides. Lindsay hooked her fingertips into the fabric at Tina’s shoulders and lowered herself to her knees in front of Tina, sliding the green dress down to reveal inch after inch of flesh. Tina released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as her breasts, topped with large, dusky nipples, sprang free. Lindsay continued dragging the fabric downward, exposing Tina’s stomach, the delicate curve of her hipbones, and finally the dense triangle of black curls above her swollen pussy lips. Lindsay inhaled Tina’s scent, hands caressing up the backs of her thighs until they located her ass cheeks. She buried her nose in Tina’s thick pubic hair, the tip of her tongue teasing out Tina’s clit that was hiding beneath its hood, savoring her tangy essence.
Tina grabbed fistfuls of Lindsay’s blonde hair and began grinding her cunt against her friend’s eager mouth. Through half-lidded eyes, she surveyed the five men ogling her naked body, each in various states of undress. Ken’s fingers worked methodically at his shirt buttons, revealing a smooth, tanned chest. Eli, emboldened by liquor, had stripped to his boxers, the expensive silk straining against his evident erection. Donald’s trembling hands fumbled with his belt buckle, while Leonard maintained his composure, slowly removing his cufflinks with deliberate precision. Guido, most brazen of all, was completely naked, slowly stroking his thick shaft that jutted from a nest of dark curls. A molten thrill coursed through Tina’s core, knowing that each one of these strangers’ cocks was going to be in her mouth and pussy before the night was over.
Lindsay pulled her head back from Tina’s dripping pussy, a strand of Tina’s wetness connecting her lower lip to Tina’s swollen labia. She took Tina’s hands and pulled her down until they were both on their knees, facing each other. Lindsay crushed her mouth against Tina’s, thrusting her tongue between Tina’s lips, swirling it around. Tina whimpered as she tasted her own nectar from Lindsay’s tongue, her nipples hardening to painful points. Lindsay finally broke away, leaving Tina breathless. She rotated her head to look at the five men, a landscape of bare skin and obvious arousal. With a coy tilt of her head, her blonde hair draping over one shoulder, she asked, “Who wants a blowjob?”
Both women turned to face the group, kneeling side by side on the plush, cream-colored carpet, shoulders touching. Their chests rose and fell in uneven rhythm as they gazed at the five men, lips parted, hands resting on their laps. The scent of arousal hung thick in the air as they waited, poised like offerings, for the men to use.
Ken strode forward first, his thick, blunt-headed dick bobbing as he walked. He stepped up to Lindsay and pressed the tip of his cock to her lips. She opened eagerly, tongue extended, accepting him. First just the silken head, then more, her lips slowly sheathing the length as her fingers curled around what wouldn’t fit. She sucked him in pulsing, rhythmic movements, her eyes locked to his, the suction strong enough that when she pulled back, a wet pop resonated, and a strand of saliva dangled from the tip of his cock. Her tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along the underside of his shaft, pausing to tease his frenulum with the tip of her tongue before she took him again fully into her warm, eager mouth.
Guido moved in on Tina, shoving his penis into her mouth, groaning as her tongue curled around the flared head. Tina gagged a little at the sheer girth but recovered quickly, her lips peeling back as she sucked in her cheeks and gave him deep, repeated swallows. “That’s it, baby, suck it just like that,” he urged. Her eyes flicked upward, catching his gaze through the veil of her dark lashes. His mouth hung half-open, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his upper lip, nostrils flared like a bull’s, eyes darkened to obsidian pools of raw, animal lust. Her fingers found their way between his muscular thighs, cupping and rolling his testicles against her palm, feeling them tighten and draw up as she hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head rhythmically on his throbbing shaft, her tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge where the head met the stem. Guido’s breath grew ragged as Tina’s warm mouth brought him dangerously close to release. With a guttural groan, he pressed his palm against her forehead, gently but firmly pushing her away. “Not yet,” he managed through clenched teeth, his cock twitching and glistening with her saliva as he stepped back, making room for the next eager participant.
Leonard knelt behind Lindsay, reaching around to maul her heavy breasts, pinching and twisting her stiff nipples. His rock-hard cock pressed against the cleft of her ass, leaving a wet smear of pre-cum on her skin as he ground against her. “Yes, suck that magnificent cock,” he growled softly in her ear, watching Ken’s thick shaft intently as it disappeared between Lindsay’s stretched lips, her throat bulging each time she swallowed him to the root. Lindsay moaned and pushed her ass back against Leonard’s throbbing erection, her pussy dripping wet and aching to be filled.
Donald shuffled forward with awkward, twitching steps, his average-sized penis wobbling underneath the pale dome of his round belly. “May I?” he whispered politely, looking down at Tina, his pupils dilated with a mixture of mortification and desperate arousal. Tina gave him a warm, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Yessir, Captain tight pants,” she winked as her slender fingers wrapped around his shaft, guiding him between her lips. She swallowed him straight to the back of her throat, the muscles there contracting around his sensitive head, surprising him with the ferocious vacuum of her suction. He nearly collapsed, his knees buckling as she worked the full length with long, unhurried motions, her velvety tongue fluttering along the sensitive underside, her gaze locked onto his face to witness every flicker of pleasure. He placed his hands on either side of her head and fucked her mouth in gentle pulses, pausing every so often to allow her to swirl her tongue along the corona and lick his slit, drawing moans from deep in his chest.
When Ken pulled away from Lindsay’s mouth, Eli stepped forward, his member rigid against his flat stomach. Lindsay, her cunt throbbing with need, scrambled onto her hands and knees. She looked back over her shoulder at Leonard, her eyes wild. “Fuck me,” she demanded, her visible pussy lips engorged and slick. She then turned to Eli, running her tongue over her swollen lips, “and give me that beautiful cock to suck.”
Leonard lined up behind her, his hands bracing her by the hips, nudging the head of his erect shaft against the juicy folds of her pussy, then entering her in a single, fluid motion, stretching her wide enough that Lindsay gasped around the head of Eli’s cock, which she was already greedily devouring. Eli’s cock filled her mouth as she lavished it with attention, sucking him with fluttering tongue and pursed lips, alternating rapid, shallow pulses with slow, deep swallows that made him shudder and babble praise above her.
Leonard drove into her with steady, unhurried thrusts, his pubic bone smacking against her ass with every impact, creating a rhythmic slapping sound. Occasionally, he would pause when he was buried deep inside her velvet heat, grinding his hips in slow, deliberate circles that made her whimper. He squeezed her hips, his full attention on watching his veined shaft disappear into her swollen, pink folds as he fucked her. Encouraged by Lindsay’s muffled moans vibrating around Eli’s cock, Leonard picked up the pace, pounding into her with a steady, relentless rhythm that made her whole body jolt forward with each thrust, her tits swaying like flesh pendulums. Each time he slammed into her, her ass rippled like waves on water, a perfect show for Ken and Guido, who stood watching, jacking their cocks.
Tina dislodged herself from Donald with a wet gasp, her lips cherry-red and swollen. She stood, a flush spreading across her chest, her nipples tightening as she watched Leonard’s thick shaft disappear repeatedly into her friend. She grabbed Ken’s wrist and pulled him toward the leather sofa. With a playful shove, she pushed him down and climbed atop him, straddling his toned thighs. Her slick heat hovered tantalizingly above him as she reached between her legs, wrapping delicate fingers around his throbbing erection. She aligned him with her entrance, the swollen head parting her petals, and sank down with a throaty moan, taking him in until he filled her completely. She placed her palms on his broad shoulders for leverage and began to ride, her pussy clenching greedily around him as she set a grinding, rolling groove. Ken’s hands found their way to her tits, squeezing the small, firm mounds, thumbs flicking her nipples until they ached. Tina gasped, then threw her head back, her dark hair tumbling behind her, utterly unbothered by the chorus of catcalls from the watching men.
Over the next several hours, the living room transformed into a hedonistic arena, the air thick with the scent of sex and the symphony of moans, gasps, and wet slapping sounds. Tina and Lindsay were used like the merchandise they were, their swollen lips stretched around throbbing shafts, their pink-flushed cunts gripping and releasing cock after eager cock. The men cycled in and out of the action, their members shiny with saliva and pussy juice as they switched holes. They sometimes patiently took turns, sometimes double-teamed, and sometimes just lingered on the periphery, stroking themselves and capturing the spectacular tableau of debauchery on their phones.
Tina got a bit of a shock when, as she straddled Ken’s face, grinding her sex against his eager tongue, Leonard knelt between Ken’s legs and started sucking his cock. The unexpected sight and Ken’s moans sent a fresh wave of arousal flooding through her, her pussy clenching involuntarily as she watched Leonard’s silver-haired head bob up and down on Ken’s shaft with surprising expertise.
At one point in time, Lindsay found herself with Guido’s cock deep in her cunt, Ken fucking her in the ass, while she alternated between Donald and Eli sucking their dicks. As the night wore on, the men decided to make a game out of it, positioning Tina on the sofa, her forearms resting on the back of the couch, her gaping, slick pussy the target. The men formed a line behind her and started what Guido called “cock racing.” Each man would ram his cock into her dripping cunt, pounding her with ten hard, deep thrusts before pulling out. Lindsay sat on the couch beside her friend’s trembling body, taking each slippery, pussy-scented cock into her mouth, tasting Tina’s juices as she sucked them clean before they rejoined the back of the line. When the guys needed a break, Lindsay and Tina melded their bodies together in a sixty-nine, tongues delving into each other’s cum-filled holes, flicking frantically over engorged clits. They then moved to scissoring, their swollen, slick labia sliding together in exquisite contact that made them both cry out in pleasure. The men formed a tight circle around the writhing women, fondling whatever breast or butt was within reach.
As the men, their balls completely drained of every last sperm, made their way to individual bedrooms, Lindsay and Tina lay passed out, sprawled across the furniture, completely exhausted from being fucked every way possible and the countless shuddering orgasms that had crashed through them throughout the night. Lindsay’s pussy gaped open, her once-delicate pink labia now swollen and puffy. Her asshole, tender after accommodating so many cocks, twitched involuntarily. Pearly rivulets of cum seeped out of both holes, pooling in small, milky puddles beneath her on the leather cushion. Tina’s lips were twice their normal size, the delicate skin mottled with bruises in shades of plum and burgundy from too many blowjobs. A mixture of dried and fresh semen crusted her face and tangled in her disheveled hair. Both women’s nipples were chafed raw from being pinched, tugged, and sucked for hours.
The penthouse was a wreck. The once-pristine leather couches were now covered with streaks of cum and pooled sweat. Glass-topped tables littered with abandoned bourbon tumblers, mini-bar snack wrappers, discarded wet wipes, an empty bottle of lube, and a prescription bottle lying on its side, tiny diamond-shaped Viagra tablets scattered across the smudged surface. The white wool carpet was now stained with a constellation of fluids and dropped food crushed into the fibers. The floor-to-ceiling windows were clouded with handprints, smudged buttock impressions, and the ghostly outline of Lindsay’s large breasts where she’d been pressed against the cool glass. Every surface carried evidence of the wild, uncensored night it had witnessed.
Tina’s eyelids fluttered partially open, her lashes heavy with crusted semen. Through the penthouse’s windows, pale lavender dawn stretched across the sky, casting the still morning ocean in shimmering silver. Realizing that their contract to be whores was fulfilled, she placed her palm on Lindsay’s shoulder, gently shaking her awake. The two supported each other as they staggered on trembling legs to one of the suite’s bathrooms, muscles aching from hours of contortion and exertion. They washed themselves the best they could in the small vanity sink, dabbing away dried sperm with a dampened hand towel, neither daring to confront her reflection in the mirror. Without giving the men who had thoroughly fucked them a second thought, they slid back into their slutty dresses and retrieved their clutches. Their high heels dangled from their fingertips as they padded barefoot back to their own room with as much dignity as their ravaged bodies and cum-matted hair would allow.
When they returned to their room, they stripped out of their clothes and crashed on the bed, their bodies sinking into the mattress. Lindsay winced as her raw, tender flesh made contact with the cool sheets. Tina curled onto her side, knees drawn to her chest, mascara smudged in dark half-moons beneath her eyes. Even though they were leaving today, and checkout was at noon, they needed to try to get a few hours of sleep. When Tina’s phone shrieked them awake, sunlight blazed through the gaps in the curtains. They groggily took turns in the shower, the hot water stinging their skin, swirling down the drain as they scrubbed away the evidence of their debauchery.
Tina was haphazardly throwing her clothes into her suitcase when Lindsay appeared naked in the bathroom doorway, running a brush through her wet hair. “So, who won last night?” she asked.
Tina paused her packing, the lacy black thong she bought to wear under her new dress, but didn’t, dangling from her fingers. She shot Lindsay a look of disbelief. “Are you actually asking who was the biggest slut?” She shook her head, tossing the panties in and zipping her suitcase shut with a decisive metallic rasp.
“I’m just saying,” Lindsay replied with a shrug that made her breasts bounce slightly, “we had a wager and last night was the deciding event.” She tossed her brush onto the rumpled bed before carefully stepping into a pair of pale pink cotton panties, drawing them slowly up her thighs. A sharp hiss escaped her lips as the fabric made contact with her swollen, chafed pussy, the elastic waistband pressing against the finger-shaped bruises that were starting to bloom across her hips.
“I don’t know, Linds,” Tina groaned, feeling the dull ache in her jaw from repeatedly sucking cock, “I mean, I got splattered with so much cum I looked like a Krispy Kreme donut, and you took it up the ass so many times I’m surprised you’ll even be able to sit down.” Tina paused, considering the events of last night. “You did, however, have a cock in every hole on more than one occasion, so I guess I will admit defeat,” she sighed.
Lindsay finished getting dressed, tugging her white cotton sundress over her tender, sex-bruised body. A slow, victorious smile spread across her swollen lips as she fluffed her still-damp hair. “I accept your concession,” she proclaimed, her blue eyes glinting in triumph. “Sooo, that means…”
Tina cut her off with a sharp wave of her hand, knowing exactly what that meant. When they got back home, she was going to have to invite Lindsay’s ex, Tim, who always had a thing for her, over to her house and describe to him, in explicit detail, what kind of a cock-loving cum-slut she had become. “Yeah, yeah. I know,” she said, regretting their bet almost as much as her raw, overused pussy regretted last night.
—ooOoo—
They settled into their wide, first-class seats for the return flight from the Caribbean that afternoon. The flight attendant, with her pin-neat bun and crisp navy uniform, greeted them with practiced warmth. Before takeoff, they had downed two glasses of champagne each, the effervescent bubbles dancing across their tongues as the sunbaked runway fell away beneath a deafening roar of engines. Lindsay reclined her seat with a languorous sigh of contentment, slipping in her pearl-white earbuds and stretching out her long, tanned legs. She drifted in and out of consciousness, her lips occasionally curving into a secretive smile.
Tina stared out at the billowing cotton-candy clouds, her head resting against the cool double-paned glass, lost in kaleidoscopic thoughts of home: the sterile fluorescent lighting of her corner office, carpooling kids to school in her sensible minivan, cheering from metal bleachers at weekend soccer games, and being set up on awkward blind dates by her well-meaning but clueless co-workers. It all seemed so colorless now, so suffocatingly mundane, compared to the hedonistic pleasures of the last seventy-two hours.
Tina jerked slightly when Lindsay lightly touched her forearm. “You okay?” she asked, seeing the far-off expression etched on her friend’s face.
Tina’s mind flickered rapidly between images: her mind-blowing orgasm on the massage table to her children’s laughing faces; licking her best friend’s pussy to having lunch with co-workers; riding one cock while she sucked another to sitting in her favorite chair reading a book. She exhaled. “How am I supposed to go back to my normal life at home after what happened on this trip?” she murmured, her voice holding genuine bewilderment.
Lindsay shifted in her seat, her mouth curving into a warm, knowing smile that carried the intimacy of their shared secrets. “You don’t have to,” she whispered, taking Tina’s hand in hers. “You can be whoever you want to be.”
Tina gave Lindsay a half-smile and gently squeezed her hand as she recalled the freedom of shedding her sundress at the nude beach and letting the world see her naked, thinking, if only reinvention could be as simple as shedding one’s clothes.
Thanks for reading. Likes and favorites are greatly appreciated, and your comments are always welcome.
