The bar buzzed with life; everyone knew my name by now.
Alice didn’t keep her protective eye on me at all times now, but it was still girls’ night. And if anyone lingered too long or got too close, the cat had claws.
Tonight, though, she wasn’t guarding—she was watching.
Grinning.
That was a change.
Most of the night, she’d been ogling my ass.
Her green eyes burned, fixed on me over the rim of her drink. The straw dangled between her lips, and when she sipped, they glowed wet—deep, crimson. Her nose twitched, that signature flicker of mischief, and I felt her gaze trace my skin like a slow drag of heat.
“Spicy mango mojito,” she had ordered, voice syrupy-smooth. “A hint of orgasm with ice.”
I refused to let her know just how much that look affected me.
“Hit me again, Tommy,” I said, fire still searing down my throat from the last shot.
Alice grinned, chewing on crushed ice, watching me.
I met her gaze, slowly and deliberately letting my ice-blue stare sink into her.
“Babe, pour the salt on your tits. Let me lick them clean.”
She smiled, but I saw that flicker of temptation, the thought crossing her mind before she shut it down.
“Easy, girl,” she hummed. “You’ve had six shots already. You’ll crash like a stone.”
“Oh, baby… I want to crash.” I leaned in; voice syrup-thick with heat. “I want to be lifted beyond the ozone and flung to the ground screaming. My name? Your name? His name? Doesn’t matter as long as I’m screaming.”
Alice’s laughter was all the things she was.
Love. Desire. Pride. Temptation.
And raw, unfiltered sexual power.
“Where is he?” I pouted, licking the last drop of tequila from my lips. “He’s late.”
Alice shook her head, still grinning.
“He’s not late, babe. I think, perhaps, you’re early.”
“Tommy! Where’s that shot!”
Tommy slid the glass over, but not before exchanging a glance with Alice, a warning reminding her of her promise to keep me out of trouble.
Alice just shrugged, mischief playing at the corners of her lips.
“Sorry, Tommy. This ain’t me. She is trouble.”
Did I dare?
The thought barely flickered before I acted.
I reached for Tommy’s hand, pulling him closer, my touch feather-light but deliberate.
“Tommy, dear,” I whispered, letting my voice dip into honeyed temptation. “Would you really deny a pretty girl her desires?”
My fingertip traced slowly up his arm—just enough to leave goosebumps in its wake.
“Because if you do… that’s when I become your trouble.”
I flicked the shot back, feeling the burn blaze through me.
And then? I purred.
Alice smirked, shaking her head. She knew what was coming.
The moment stretched, thick with tequila and tension—and then the air shifted.
Stephan finally arrived.
He kissed Alice, pulling her close, his hands lingering, claiming. But when his lips met mine, his tongue whispered something else entirely.
He smiled at Alice. But his eyes? They crawled my skin—unlayered me.
“You look fantastic, Veronica.”
It wasn’t what he said—but how he made it true.
I leaned in just enough, letting the heat between us simmer.
“Stare a little harder,” I whispered, voice thick with promise. “This might be your lucky night.”
And just like that?
It wasn’t Alice who hurried to leave.
It was him.
She didn’t nibble at his ear or rub his thigh.
Both their eyes flicked to the mirror.
Both of them watching me.
And me?
I teased their eyes with pure honey.
As we exited the car, Alice grabbed my arm and pushed me hard against the wall.
She was burning. Shaking. Her last strain of control hanging by a thread.
“Are you sure?” she breathed, her lips crashing into mine, devouring, demanding.
Her kiss wasn’t sweet. It was hunger, it was madness, it was pure fucking need.
“And don’t fuck around,” she panted against my lips. “I’m dying here. This is it. Beyond this point… I can’t stop.”
I pushed her off me.
She staggered back, eyes wild, suffering.
But she owned it.
I smirked, watching her fight for breath.
“Let’s fuck.”
Stephan stood by the door, keys in hand, but his calm patience had cracked. When Alice scuttled past him, he grabbed her, lifting her with ease, her thighs clinging around him in pure desperation.
I walked.
And watched.
I closed the door behind us, leaning back against it.
“Do your thing,” I said.
Their thing used to be a delicate dance.
This?
Raw. Ripping of seams.
Sweat. Hot, humid breath. The sound of fabric stretching, giving way.
Fingers tracing, grabbing, clawing.
Mouths tasting, sampling, devouring.
Him hard. Her soft.
Both burning.
“Do me,” I moaned.
They turned toward me.
Alice? I didn’t know this Alice.
This wasn’t tempting. Wasn’t pulling or teasing.
This was raw.
Hunger.
Their hands were on me—urgent, trembling, devouring.
My top ripped over my head, my arms outstretched, baring me to the heat between us.
They didn’t bother unclasping my bra.
The rip made me shudder. Tremble. The snap as it pulled free echoed deep in my gut.
Their mouths hungry, relentless, claiming.
Both of them sucking me in. Drinking from my chest, my delightful tits, feeding their flames.
Their tongues traced, teased, claimed—wet, scorching, relentless.
Hands trailing lower—my stomach, my ass—gripping, pulling, desperate.
Desperation.
“Fuck,” Alice moaned. “Did you fucking glue these on?”
The button gave way. Echoing in my head.
The zipper slid down—slow, deliberate, merciless.
It felt like she unzipped my spine.
Four hands. Gripping. Clawing. Aching.
Strong hands lifting me, freeing me completely.
I looked down.
Alice’s eyes burned with copper. Copper burns green.
She taught me that.
In chemistry.
This wasn’t theory.
Her fingers hooked at the thin strings of my underwear.
Snap.
And she devoured me.
My burning clit, sure.
But all of me.
I almost regained myself—almost—until his hands spread me.
And his tongue found me.
My legs trembled; the only thing holding me up was their hands.
Their mouths.
I could have let them make me cum.
I wanted them to.
I wanted them to eat me alive.
Consume me.
But I needed more.
I tangled my fingers in Alice’s hair, pulling her off me—not rough, but not gentle either.
Her lips were swollen, wet, desperate.
Her eyes, wild.
“Get on the bed,” I moaned.
She didn’t hesitate.
She jumped onto the bed, spreading herself—offering.
But not like that.
“No.”
She froze.
“Arms and knees.”
Her breath hitched.
“Butt up, head down.”
She obeyed.
Slow. Deliberate.
And when she finally settled into position, I made sure—
“Look at me.”
I reached for my pants.
I pulled the little package from my pocket and knelt at Stephan’s feet.
His breath stilled.
I rubbed him against me, never breaking from her gaze.
“Look at me.”
I let him brush against my lips, let him leak his desire onto them.
“Look.”
She did.
Wide-eyed and burning.
I parted my lips—slow, deliberate, teasing.
I let him in.
Twirled my tongue.
He hitched.
She moaned.
I pulled back, lips wet, but only to take him deeper.
He glistened.
I tore the foil open and rolled the condom on, my touch light but certain.
I let my mouth and fingers trace him, worship him, until my lips met his in a wet whisper—
“Take her.”
I watched him climb onto the bed and take his place behind her.
His hands on her ass.
Grinding against her.
She flinched.
Her eyes squeezed shut.
“Hey, babe,” I panted, voice thick with heat. “Eyes on me. I want to see what it does to you. When he slides into you.”
Her breath was ragged.
“I can’t,” she moaned, “I’m fucking burning.”
But at my nod to Stephan—
Her eyes shot open.
Her mouth parted.
And the sound that escaped her was deep, guttural—
And almost, just almost, gut-wrenching.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
Her eyes squeezed shut.
She howled into the sheets.
Her fingers clawed the mattress, trying to hold on to reality.
I cupped her face, forcing her to look at me.
“Kiss me and tell me you love me.”
Her lips trembled.
“Fuck…fuck…fuck,” she whimpered.
I leaned in, my breath mixing with hers, feeling the sweat from her brow.
“I’ll let you cum, babe. Just tell me you love me.”
“Fuck…” she moaned, her whole body tensing beneath me.
I was at my own breaking point.
But I needed her to break first.
I needed her for what came next.
Her hips bucked.
Her body begged.
“God, babe, I love you. I love you!” she screamed.
No one in that motel left without knowing Alice loved me.
“Get up. Make room.”
She barely had time to breathe before I slid beneath her.
A perfect fit between her thighs.
And the view?
She was dripping onto my face.
Stephan slid into her—effortless.
No resistance. No hesitation.
Just pure surrender.
I wrapped my legs around Alice’s head and pushed her down onto me.
She trembled.
I traced my tongue around her throbbing button.
She shook.
And when I sucked her into my mouth—
She gushed.
The way her mouth slobbered—desperate, hungry—the way she didn’t know whether to lick, kiss, or scream into my soft butt let me know she was dangling on the edge.
Teetering.
My hands found her ass.
I scratched.
I clawed.
I pulled her down onto me.
She was sobbing.
So fucking close.
Her thighs trembled.
Her breath stuttered, and then—
She burrowed her tongue inside me.
…almost made me slip…
Moaning against her.
Tensing…
Tensing…
And when she broke, it was marvelous.
A violent, rippling surrender.
Her body spasmed against me, her shrieks dissolving into my burning desire.
The aftershock… the way she slid down…spent.
Stephan played his part, but Alice?
She simply collapsed onto me, suffocating me in wild berries and nectar.
I let her breathe.
Allowed her to collect.
I let her slide off me and turn around.
Because I needed her for what was next.
I welcomed her soft kiss, her face—red, burning, stretched, utterly beautiful.
“I’m ready,” I whispered.
Her fingers found my cheek, tracing, testing.
“Definite?” she purred.
I swallowed.
“Yes,” I whimpered. “But guide me?”
She tilted her head, eyes deep and knowing. “How?”
I exhaled, steadying.
“Just like this. I want to see him. I want to see…me.”
Alice’s gaze flicked to Stephan.
Her voice, soft but edged in iron.
“Be fucking gentle, cowboy,” she said. “I will rip your balls off.”
He got off the bed and wrapped his hands around my thighs, pulling me onto the edge of the bed.
“Like this?” he said, far gentler than I deserved.
“Just like this,” I whispered.
Alice traced her fingers down my belly and rubbed me gently.
“Spread a little wider, babe,” she whispered, “give him just enough room.”
I felt myself open.
It shattered something in my spine that spread and snapped something in my head.
“Rub against her; let her welcome you,” she whispered to him, still rubbing me into surrender.
He rubbed.
I tensed.
“Relax, babe,” she hushed, pressing soft kisses to my tummy.
I softened.
He pushed.
I groaned, and my breath caught.
I pulled back.
But Alice?
“Almost there, babe. Just breathe.”
Closing her lips around me.
His next push was softer.
And I met him with more welcome.
I felt myself slipping.
I felt myself splitting.
Alice purred.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. This is so fucking hot.”
My hands found her curls, and I pulled her onto me.
“Don’t stop,” I hitched.
I tried to ease, but his push was stronger than my ease.
He entered with a tranquil tenderness that split me, ripped me, and tore everything in me into delightful purgatory.
“Motherfucker!” I screamed through clenched teeth.
“Told you so,” she murmured in a mouthful of me.
Each little push filled me beyond fullness and stretched me beyond pain.
But beneath that pain.
Oh. My. Fucking.
I clawed at her scalp, pulling her off me.
I leaned on my elbows.
I had to see.
Alice spun around and spread herself around me, supporting me.
Her hands traced my nipples, seasoned with teasing pinches.
My clit jumped, throbbed.
She was beautiful.
But seeing myself being taken?
It melted me.
“Deeper. Please,” I moaned, “Deeper.”
And seeing Stephan’s face only made me burn deeper, darker.
“A little faster?” I gasped.
The pain numbed.
And the fire raged.
“This is so fucking beautiful,” Alice moaned, “And way to shift your envy onto me, babe.”
I watched myself being pulled.
I watched myself being pushed.
I watched myself being stretched beyond my breaking point.
My tummy jiggled softly, and I felt it tense against his increased thrust.
My clit jumped, danced, and dripped at his every push.
“Does it always feel this consuming, this good?” I whispered.
“No,” Alice whispered, twisting my nipples, “Sometimes, it shatters you completely. And when it does, you’ll know true pleasure.”
I felt the rapture in my head.
It shot like a thunderbolt down my neck and spine and spread into the center of everything.
Just fucking everything.
My legs wrapped around him, pulling him in.
“Fucking take me.”
The sound of skin on skin filled my head as I was pushed into the mattress.
The burn against my cheeks as he slammed into me lifted me.
He pulled me wider, pushing me against myself.
His grunts.
“So fucking tight.”
Alice, cross-legged and beautiful, rubbing herself.
Oh, and the burn!
Not like before, not even like Alice made me feel.
It burned everywhere.
But like a fuse.
No, tens of thousands of fuses.
And they all burned toward the center of fucking everything.
I leaked.
Oh, my fucking God.
I leaked and dripped.
And he saw.
And responded.
Every urgency that had ever ripped his body melted into this.
And he took me over and beyond.
Alice didn’t give a fuck that she sprayed the sheets beneath her.
And he hurled me into the bottomless pit.
And I clenched.
And I exploded.
And he pounded.
I erupted like hellfire consumed me.
And he pounded.
Every muscle, fiber, and atom in me tensed and released, all simultaneously.
I fucking felt it.
How he tensed around me, gripping my thighs so hard they ached with intense elation, pleasure and pain melting together until I couldn’t tell them apart.
How he tensed inside me, stretching me open with unforgiving hedonism, pushing past the limits of what I thought I could take—demanding, relentless, merciless.
How his breath caught, thick with opulence, his moan a desperate, guttural thing as he buried himself deeper, dragging me into his ruin.
How he left me wrecked, pulsating, gaping, and devastatingly empty, gasping as my body trembled in the aftershocks of something devastating, something exquisite, something that shattered the pretty and beautiful I had been and forged something new in her place.
I watched him claw and rip at the rubber that was imprisoning him, and through the rippled shards, his release soiling me and mixing with my own.
He sunk to his knees, holding on to my limp legs, gasping and sobering at my sweaty skin.
Alice’s stare was blank, hypnotized, and gone.
She traced her tongue through our spillage before meeting my lips with a kiss of herself, me, and him.
“You ok, babe?” she whispered, her voice hoarse and drawn like aged whiskey poured over the smell of expensive cigars.
“I want more.”
My voice laced with honey and greed.
We didn’t return to that small, yellow house and the retreat of Alice’s reclaimed room. We indulged in all the biblical temptations of my upbringing.
The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet, and was glittering with gold, precious stones and pearls. She held a golden cup in her hand, filled with abominable things and the filth of her adulteries. The name written on her forehead was a mystery:
Babylon the great
The mother of prostitutes
And of the abominations of the earth.
The scarlet whore and her blonde twin.
And I rode, being the woman on the scarlet beast, riding ruin itself, drunk on blasphemy and the filth of my indulgence.
I took. Straight from the tree, not just eating it, devouring it, spilling it onto both of them.
I received—all the wages of sin. I died over and over under his whip.
I gave. Take, eat; this is my body.
And I shared. Ezekiel would be proud of his observance.
Until our bodies couldn’t take anymore and drifted into sleep in a tangled mess of limbs, sweat, and release.
When morning broke, we untangled ourselves, leaving Stephan’s spent body hugging the sheets.
“Well,” Alice yawned before lighting her joint, “that was epic.”
“Biblical,” I giggled.
“How do you feel, babe?”
“Truthfully?” I smiled, replaying the night in my head, “Fucking sore, tender like your dad’s roast, and bruised like a champ.”
A plume of smoke drifted from her lips.
“That good, eh?”
“Fucking epic.”
My foot wobbled, my ankle violently protesting as my heel caught in a crack. I lurched forward, arms flailing, barely catching myself before eating the pavement.
She didn’t even try to hide her laugh.
“Stop,” she giggled, “I’m gonna piss myself.”
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” I muttered, regaining my balance. The soreness in my thighs made every step feel like a battle.
“This?” She grinned, steadying me with one hand while casually passing me the joint with the other. “The walk of shame. Mandatory for bitches like us.”
Still, as she intertwined her fingers with mine, it was just the kind of walk I needed.
“You don’t have to do it, you know,” she said. Maybe it was the weed or the afterglow of her mojito, but there was an extra layer to her tenderness.
“What, babe?”
“Hold my orgasm hostage. You know I do.”
I looked at her. Reached for her waiting lips and kissed her.
“Now, where’s the fun in that, babe?”
“Hey, just count yourself lucky I do. Otherwise, I’d have died frustrated last night,” she giggled, “The blonde, at the motel, with intent.”
“What?”
“Another Yoda moment? Clue? Oh, babe, you have so much to learn.”
We glided through the day. Breakfast at 1 p.m. was almost as sinful as our night. I was lost in her complete randomness, citing movie lines in ways only she knew how.
“It melts, God forgive me, it melts ever so slowly on your tongue, and tortures you with pleasure,” she moaned at the decadent chocolate cake we shared, “But the coffee? The power of Christ compels you!”
Or her ability to find beauty in everything as we passed a woman with a life carried in bags at her feet.
“Even in the ugliest of times and fates, there’s something worth admiring—cracks that let in the light, scars that tell stories, the chaos that breathes life. Maybe beauty isn’t about perfection at all. Maybe it’s just about looking long enough to see what others don’t.”
She looked at me, pressing her lack of judgment in others.
“It’s not her. It’s us. We should do better, you know? Maybe one day, we actually will. It just takes one voice to say it out loud, and it might catch.”
Or how she’d weave reality into her quirkiness.
“You absolutely obliterated me last night, babe,” she said, stopping at a street vendor and buying three bagels and coffee.
“And I absolutely loved it,” she continued as she took my arm, returning to where we came from.
“But seeing you like that? That was the true wreckage. You’re everything, babe,” she whispered as she handed a bagel to the woman we passed earlier and sat down on the curb with her as if they had always been friends.
Sometimes, a bagel isn’t just a bagel. Never is a moment just a single moment, especially not around Alice.
I watched the wind ruffle her hair and her nose twitch.
I knew she desired to be naked.
***
At the long yawn of afternoon, we again found ourselves in front of the little yellow house. The Citroën winked at us in the fading sun, ready to take us home. I hadn’t seen the ghost of Clair in Alice the entire weekend, but now, it weighed on her slightly.
“I just have to pick up our shit from the room and let her know we’re heading out.”
The runaway curl she had been struggling with all day settled behind her ear, and she let out a small sigh.
“For all that she is, I can’t just leave her to die. That’s why I return. Her undoing? She has to own it herself.”
I knew she told me to stay exactly where I stood. This was her burden—the duty no one had placed upon her but herself.
I watched as she entered the house and let myself lean against the Citroën’s curved hood.
How do you feel, Veronica?
Exhausted, in the most satisfying way.
I let my hands rest behind me as I slid onto the hood, catching my reflection in the windscreen.
Makeup smeared.
Too tight jeans.
My ragged, jagged hair blew softly in the wind.
Utterly desirable.
Alice did not enhance it, but Stephan—Stephan had confirmed it.
I didn’t get an erection.
Fuck.
I felt a surge.
Not a spark. Not a flicker of doubt or something misplaced. This was different. A slow, deep bloom—heat pooling low in my belly, unfurling like a secret I’d always known but never spoken aloud. It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t demanding. It was right. Like a puzzle piece clicking into place, a song hitting the perfect note, a breath drawn so deep I never wanted to let it go.
I crossed my legs, and it tingled inside me; just the slight squeeze to my womanhood felt almost consuming.
How does it feel to surrender completely and let yourself be absolutely taken?
How does it feel to be fucked senseless?
Goosebumps.
And that’s how Alice found me, stretched across the hood of her dad’s car.
“Oh. Horny much?”
“Consumingly.”
She grinned.
I knew that grin. It was her pride, love, trust, satisfaction, and struggle against temptation in one fleeting moment.
“Hop in,” she said, “We have a road to conquer.”
The Citroën purred as we left the driveway, slipping through the narrow streets like a whisper.
The setting sun bled through the windshield, catching in her hair, weaving gold through fire. It spilled across her skin, deepening the freckles that dusted her cheekbones, the ones I had memorized but never counted.
And then her eyes—
The light hit green, burning, shifting, flickering with something just beneath the surface. She glanced at me for a moment, and it was too much—like staring into the sun, like looking at something untouchable but wanting to reach anyway.
She twitched her nose, making those freckles tease, making something coil inside me, low and unbearable.
“What?” she asked, catching me. Her voice was laced with something knowing, teasing, and daring.
Her smirk was barely there, but it was enough.
I swallowed. Crossed my legs around my hands. Felt the heat in my stomach curl, spread, take root.
I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t even name it myself.
“Nothing,” I moaned.
Her smirk twitched, but she didn’t press. She just turned her eyes back on the road as if she hadn’t felt it, too.
“Ah, babe,” she sighed, “Welcome to my world.”
The last sentence bubbled through a giggle.
And we let the road decide, and that’s why Henry’s soup was cold when we finally got home. But his toast was all the comfort we needed.
The shower felt refreshing, but it didn’t take away the real secret of our weekend.
I slid into bed next to Alice and melted beside her. Feeling everything anew.
“You’re not getting any,” she whispered, “I’m utterly spent.”
“Just cuddles, babe,” I whispered, feeling how intensely soft my skin felt against hers.
She turned around and faced me. Lingered at my every flaw and made them beautiful.
“Fuck…” she murmured, “How the fuck do you expect me to transform that into David in the morning?”
I froze. She was crushingly right. I almost hated her for it.
Our weekends were so David-free that they became forgetful, and every Sunday night was a crushing realization. But he had been slipping through school as well, and now? Layering what little man he ever was onto my very soul?
“I even hate the idea of trying,” she whispered.
“Just make him…fading.”
“Babe,” she said, “If he fades any more…he’s gone.”
“Let’s worry in the morning,” I wept.
She dried my tears and kissed me. Embraced me with all that she was.
“Worry?”
She held me tighter.
“If Sam got Frodo to Mount Doom…surely we can get David through a few more weeks.”
Alice. Always finding something to turn my head around.
“I didn’t know Gandalf took female form,” I whispered, intending to melt her.
“Gandalf?” she giggled, “Try the crimson balrog, babe. The whoreful, crimson balrog.”
“Mine?”
“Utterly.”
