Denial is not a river in Egypt. That was impossible; it was right before my eyes.

I laughed when I saw it, Evie Larron and my boyfriend fucking. There was no horrific chill soaking into my bones. With his wiry body humping away, there was more meat on a minute steak. He slapped his pale white loins against her ass, doing my best friend from behind, and looked like a terrier humping his master’s leg. I suppose that’s why I found it funny. Clutching the tiny bouquet of red roses, I plucked at the petals. Like this act, I destroyed his pathetic sentiment in the same way he wrecked my love for him. Meeting Evie’s eyes at the vital moment, she leered with that ‘he’s mine’ grin. Raphael was too far gone and shot his load into her. It was necessary; he always had the hots for that tramp.

I giggled at the fear in his eyes when they latched onto mine. That’s a climax he will not forget in a hurry.

What happened next was as inevitable as the air you breathe.

=-=

I should rewind a little. Raphael and I had a blazing row, the worst yet. Why? The tired roses were a token gift bought from a street vendor at the last minute. There was no card or the Maxim’s de Paris chocolates in a heart-shaped box I adored. It was typical of him; he also forgot my birthday last month. There was no amount of puppy-dog eyes or charm that could soothe this anger away.

On Valentine’s Day, this was the final straw, and my shoes slapped the parquet floor in anger. Echoing off the walls, they drowned out Raphael’s pitiful apology. My vitriol was not faked. I made an effort for him with candles and soft music, with my honed body in slutty lingerie.

Last week, I overheard Raphael speaking to Gaspar, saying he would make an honest woman of me. I yearned for that, and I thought he might propose tonight. Despite all his faults, I bargained that a ring on my finger was the solution to my secret hankerings. No, and the sickening sense of naïve foolishness spurred my determination. I would not cry and made my hands into fists, summoning my strength.

I called Evie; she was single and staying home to avoid romantic couples. We agreed to meet at Le Couvent: a seedy nightclub infamous for its iniquity. I craved the sense of danger and needed to free my intense sexuality. Horny, my neglected sex craved fresh meat.

Smoothing down the slinky black dress, I adjusted the matching choker adorning my neck. Checking my full make-up in the hallway mirror, I was a good girl for Raphael. I abandoned all of these things to be respectable. Not anymore, not for him. I was attired to be seduced. Lithe, built for speed, pert, perky and slender, it was all on show.

I was ripe to be taken.

=-=

Dressed in a tight black dress, it matched her bobbed raven hair and captured her racy curves. Revealing acres of cleavage, no one would look Evie in the eye. They always gravitated to those spectacular breasts, and she openly encouraged them. Those striking brown eyes shone, accentuated by smoky eyeshadow. She was my gothic priestess in this temple of vice.

The place was heaving; the smoke from dry ice caressed my body as we writhed on the dance floor. The electricity of Evie’s touch on my hip shocked my famished sex with liquid passion.

That mesmerising gaze into my eyes meant only one thing. It was always there between us, never requited, and I wanted to tear down the barrier of friendship. All those unsaid emotions would be described on Evie’s pillow lips.

We swooped as eager swallows, and I blazed into her eyes as my evocative petition. As if she had read my mind, Evie slid against my feverish body. Overcome by the rich scent dabbed onto her graceful neck, she pulled me to her and pressed those fulsome breasts against mine. The delicate graze of her fingers against my cheek illuminated my need. I had every opportunity to back away and pirouette to the rhythm with a contemptuous lash of my tresses. I could raise my arms to exalt the four-on-the-floor bass that thumped through my being. I could show off my slender figure, gyrate as I fucked, and dance my troubles away.

Oh no, I burned for Evie. Mesmerised by her striking features, she never looked more alluring. I could hear her mind imploring me, demanding this. With vodka surging through my body, it enflamed my arousal, my body urging me on as the distance between us narrowed. Here of all places, in front of a crowd of horny men, I wanted to give them their fantasy and take mine. They would witness our connection, and I wanted it to arouse them. Later, at home, they would stroke their cocks to climax thinking of us or be inspired to find a woman here for a lusty one-night stand. Maybe, they would fuck their lovers with a newfound passion and cheat on them with us in their imagination.

She kissed me like the temptress I always dreamed of. Heady from its elegance, I melted into her embrace. The music fell silent, and the earth moved with our passion, not the scintillating rhythm. Cupping my breast, I could feel the heat of her sex on my thigh as our close clinch slithered to our tempo.

It was urgent, and my overwhelmed senses begged for more. Tugging my hand, Evie marched me through the seething bodies. One man was standing there, and she locked those bewitching eyes on him. He leered with a broad smile and followed. I was soaked at the prospect of sharing him. My rational mind in the distance told me to stop. No, I craved this. My inner animal roared with an all-consuming lust. I needed to destroy these uncertainties… I must live again. He was handsome enough for a notch on my bedpost, the welcome destroyer of this persona and the herald of my new.

This was the reputation of Le Couvent. If the walls could speak, they had many dirty stories to tell, and we would write a new one. We were good whores, and left the cubicle door open. Sitting him on the toilet seat lid, straddled between my thighs, he clutched my pert behind as my dripping sex had him first. Evie pawed my exposed breast and dipped in for fiery kisses. He was a tool to use, a rigid, thick implement so gratifying in my nubile sex. Squeezing on it, riding him, alive with the novelty of a new cock to fuck.

Goodbye Raphael, this cunt is no longer yours.

He was loud, so I stuffed my damp panties in his mouth, and our spectators looked on in awe. Evie went next, writhing on his lap, back and forth with rapid snakish hips. She knew how to drain them quickly. Crouched behind her, I pulled up her brassiere and groped her naked breasts. Fuck, they were beauties. They had weight and heft as I plucked her hardened nipples; those thick nubs were made to be nuzzled. Gazing into his helpless eyes, she raced him to the finish. Crippling her body in spasms, Evie pulled him close, his face buried between her breasts, and this lucky young man gave up what we craved.

Almost lifeless and weak, I helped with his clothing.

Tightening his belt, I stuffed my panties into his shirt pocket, "A souvenir, sniff them later, cum over them and think of us."

Fuck, I was on fire.

Taking my lipstick, I wrote my number on his shirt. “Call me, and I’ll drain your balls into my tight holes.”

He disappeared with a sheepish goodbye.

"Next!" and Evie laughed.

We grabbed another man; he had the most handsome stiff shaft, no other reason. Licking it on both sides, our hungry eyes seared into his to provide an unforgettable memory. Sucking it in turns, I toyed with Evie’s leaking sex, enjoying the satin texture of cum and smearing it over her folds. Stroking him, goading him towards the finality of this lewd act, he delivered plenty. Captured as hot splashes into our mouths, it stole his breath. It was still pulsing as we shared it in messy, sticky kisses. Tasting him until we swallowed what we had.

Evie closed the cubicle door and helped me to my feet. Pushing me against its wall, Evie’s hands were all over me, slow and sensual. Taken in by her incredible guile, overloading my body and mind with sublime bliss, she made me tremble in our close clinch. Sliding her fingers into my willing sex, I clasped her wrist to keep them there. I lost count of how many kisses as the passion escalated.

Her head tilted with a quizzical expression and smouldering impassive eyes; she witnessed my abject capitulation. Deep in her eyes, I saw it, my throat hitched, and I nodded in total compliance. Evie lifted my choker, and a nip on my neck sent me flying towards the precipice with her rapid fingers inside me. Drowning in that realisation, I discarded what I was and what I was becoming. What a gift, and my willing acceptance soaked through every fibre of my being.

After the storm, there is the deluge. Chasing my throbbing clit with her thumb, Evie kissed me like my very first time. The sloshing noises of my drenched sex rose to match my cries.

Someone pushed the door open, and their look of muted panic soon transformed into lustful appreciation. Baying out loud, I shook with an intense climax, my most severe in a long time. Everyone saw it, and I revelled in this exhibition of my most intimate self. In the epiphany of this little death, I was freed from my anger. Replaced with my heart’s desires, my devotion to Evie knew no bounds.

“Fuck,” I gasped, “I… I love you, Evie Laroon.”

She purred and smouldered, “I love you, too, little bird.”

Helped to sit down, Evie prised open my trembling thighs and lapped at my sex like a kitten drinking milk. Consummating our bond, I showed them what it felt like as the rasp of her eager tongue slid into my needy folds.

Of course, he should do it; I must see his sap rise. I gasped at the spectacle, a full erection so thick and heavy that it pointed directly at me. Evie peered back and lifted the hem of her dress. He had the sense of occasion, thrusting with care, and she revealed with heavy eyelids how pleasurable it was. He savoured every second in that juicy hot pocket and pushed her mouth onto my aching sex.

We had our admirers watching us, some stroking their hard cocks, hopeful of their turn to come. Yet, my vision narrowed; I could not care less for them as the portent of a spicy orgasm loomed from the depths within. Her eyes, usually so angelic, knew the moment had arrived. I tried to buck, clamping and seizing on her fingers to prise it free. Teasing the magic from my body, I groaned loudly. Conveying its power through my wracked features was too much for the callow youth with the monster cock. With a flourish of hard thrusts, he blasted his seed into Evie’s beautiful snatch.

I was a wreck, and she stood, pleased with herself, and thanked him. The bead of light narrowed as Evie locked the cubicle door. I would not tear my eyes away as long strings of his essence dripped from her naked sex. Seizing my hair, she brought it to my mouth. There were no qualms, eating it hungrily with the zeal of a starving hostage to lust. Her hand gripped my shoulder, her legs shaking, quivering as the tremors tightened. She rubbed that glorious cunt against my mouth as her howls echoed off the walls.

They banged on the door, which made us jump with a scream. Laughter, whoops, and hollers followed, appreciative of our performance. We were a mess of smeared lipstick, runny mascara, and freshly fucked faces. With our heads held high, we walked out hand in hand; our sensual gait freshly oiled. We could not maintain the pretence for long and retired to the ladies in a fit of giggles to try to look presentable again.

=-=

We enraged each other and every man brave enough to approach us. Dancing for hours, we took respite in that cubicle, sucking on hard cock and draining their balls until my jaw ached. I got my share of hot cum inside me, ploughed hard against the cubicle wall. Evie’s eyes were aflame, rubbing my clit as she witnessed my defilement.

Falling out of the taxi, we cackled with laughter. This was my idea, a final fuck-you to Raphael. It was the ultimate discovery to salt the wound… a threesome. I always caught him perving over Evie. This was farewell; your ex-girlfriend is a slut with a penchant for her best friend.

“And here’s what you could have won….” I hissed, opening our apartment door.

Oh, Raphael was up for it. All his birthdays and Christmases had arrived at once. Evie was soaked, and I licked her pussy juice from my lips. It roused the wryest smile as she impaled herself onto his attentive shaft, and I straddled his face with my sex. My hands devoted to her breasts, drawn to her magnetic pouting lips.

“She’s so wet for you,” I giggled.

Well, we were wet with something.

Usually, he was as predictable as the once-a-week Sunday afternoon fuck. The amount of passion was defined by the performance of his favourite football team. I would lie there and count the thrusts until he slumped onto me, panting like an over-exerted dog. Once, he made it to thirty when his team won five-nil.

Raphael set a personal best with us and went out with a bang, not a whimper. Watching the thin gruel leak from Evie’s sex, it was nothing like the potent seed from the well-endowed stranger. This was the very pinnacle of my revenge. I glanced at Evie and grinned to acknowledge our conspiracy.

Fucking was not a matter of life and death; it was more important than that. Not quite for you, Raphael, not quite.

I sidled up behind him, drunk on the fear in his eyes. Frozen solid in my thrall, I eased his head to one side. The crack of broken skin sent a shockwave through my soul. Sating my blood lust, I sucked on his neck.

Evie purred, “Good? You never forget your first. It’s better than any orgasm, isn’t it?”

Delicious, thick as treacle, I licked my appreciative lips, “Only just, you make me cum so hard. Get it while he’s warm, Evie. There’s plenty for two.”