Walking up to Annabelle’s room, I knew I was going to go along with whatever she wanted. Not only did we still click just like we did years ago, but our chemistry extended to the place that I always suspected it would. Even with my car god-knows-where with Pete, and god-knows-what missing from the cellar, I was drawn upstairs. Our encounters left me wanting more, and when I wasn’t talking a loaded gun away from my face, or having sex with an object of fantasy, my mind kept wandering back to her and Chase with me in the shower.

I’d fooled around with dozens of girls. I couldn’t remember the first one, and I damn sure didn’t remember each one since. Just like with men, some were better than others. Mostly it was fun and tantalizing, especially when we did it in front of others. I mean, who doesn’t like a pair of girls getting after it, right? And also just like with a guy, it usually didn’t mean anything more than a cheap thrill and a hedonistic high. ‘Girls just wanna have fun’, and the candy was sweet, even habit-forming, but for me, there was no soft center. You just keep sucking and crunching until the candy is gone. With Annabelle, though, I’d found something soft in the middle. I dismissed what it might have meant , but I loved being with her, up against her, feeling her heat, savoring the notes of her sweet scent. This is what I thought of when she asked me to come upstairs; I could give a fuck whether Chase was there or not.

But since he was there, groping us, kissing us, pushing us, it only added to the heat. We were both up on our knees, with the length of his cock pressed into my back and his breath searing my neck as he pulled me back against him with Annabelle underneath us. I was getting wetter by the moment in his embrace.

Even though I couldn’t tell Annabelle no, I at least had a shot at keeping Chase at arm’s length. That one drugged-out fling could’ve happened with anybody, and if not for Anna’s insistence, wouldn’t have happened at all. He wanted us both, and was preparing to take us. But, even though I was halfway down the roller coaster’s free-fall with all three of us naked in her bed, I attempted to set a ground rule.

“Don’t put it in me,” I said.

“Haha, why not?” he asked.

“Because I fucking said so,” I said, looking back over my shoulder and breaking free of his arms. I bent down, clutching Annabelle, sending our bodies into a renewed knot. Chase loomed over us, needlessly stroking his fully-engorged dick. I was smiling, and didn’t feel threatened, but was also serious. “Don’t do it.”

“Aww, you know I’m good,” he countered, leaning over us both. “Why fight it?” The hot flesh of his rod dragged across the back of my thigh as he bend down, giving me an extra tingle. I didn’t respond; my mind had already moved on to the hard nipple pressing into the broad fleshy side of my breast, and my tongue was too busy with Anna’s to tangle with Chase’s words any longer.

“You know you want it,” he hissed into my ear, pressing his weight on us both.

“I know what I want,” I said, then reached behind to grip his dick and push it down, lining him up for Annabelle, not me. Face to face and resting my weight on her, I sensed his penetration when she tensed up and drew a quick breath. He was inside of her, slowly and deeply thrusting, his torso bumping my ass every time he pushed in. The longer he fucked her, the tighter they both held onto me: Chase at my waist and Annabelle around my back, pressing us all together. She smiled through our kiss, giggling and groaning, squeezing my ass, then sighed as he pulled out of her.

About the time Chase sank his cock into me again, I realized that my brain was just as impaired sober as it was on the long parade of substances I’d just faded from. He was doing exactly what I tried- and asked him- to avoid, and it wasn’t that I was powerless to stop him, it was that my brain had no say in the matter. So I let it happen without protest, gasping as the delicious shock engulfed me, feeling his shaft push all the way into my sticky wetness, back out, then slam fiercely back in.

“Fuck,...” he groaned, leaning on his arms while he fucked me from above, forcing staccato breaths into Anna’s mouth. I was short of breath, almost claustrophobic, wanting to break the kiss and come up for air, but was utterly sandwiched and locked in on both ends.

“Oh, that’s right...you don’t want it,” he taunted me as he pulled out, no doubt noticing my upturned hips and spread legs inviting his fuck despite my expressed wishes. He shoved me forward, finally jolting me loose from Annabelle, and remounted her. I rolled aside while I had the chance and watched them fuck. She raised her legs and wrapped them around his back as their hips rolled in a perfect rhythm. She arched her back and gripped his arms: moaning, overcome, and climaxing. Chase’s breathing skipped a beat then shuddered out; he was cumming inside her.

“Oh fuck...yeah....” he groaned, continuing to thrust as he flooded her pussy. She gripped my hand, staring into my eyes, and he was looking down at her body, slowing down, then finally rolling off of her. After he left, having gotten what he wanted, the two of us stayed in the bed, tangled together and pleasuring each other. We added to the hot gooey mess in her pussy when she came on my fingers, bucking her hips and pushing more of the slick fluids out onto the sheets. When we got up to go shower, I was surprised at the size of the wet stains we all left behind.

-

I slipped away from Annabelle and Chase, watching television on the couch, and went downstairs to check the situation with the wine cellar. Sure enough, the whole bag of poppers was gone, as well as my coke stash, weed stash, and most of the pills. Marcus, to the best of my memory, had never been shown to the cellar, and wasn’t really the kind to steal from me, though I wasn’t as sure about his friends, and DeDe said they were the last ones down there before she noticed everything gone. Nothing was really out of order, though, so it was somebody who knew their way around. I pulled down the large jewelry case from the top shelf and opened it. My vial of pure uncut powder was still there, as well as some of the cash, but not all of it.

It was Pete. Anyone else would’ve taken all the money if they found it, and Pete at least had the courtesy to leave what he knew was my high quality secret stash when he robbed me. As it was, he’d gotten off with a few thousand dollars and a shitload of drugs. I didn’t know what he was up to, but I knew I’d better find out.

-

Other than Carlos’ monthy trip to the car mechanic down in West Hollywood for upkeep, my father’s Maserati hadn’t been driven since the day before his death. Prior to that, it was the only car he wanted to drive.

“Holy crap!” Annabelle said, as I pulled and gathered the black car cover, unveiling its polished silver finish. “This car’s amazing. I’m sure it cost a fortune too.” I nodded. “Aren’t you afraid to drive this?”

“Of course not,” I answered with a frown, as if it was a silly question. “It’s still just a car. But today I feel like riding in style.” The truth was, with mine temporarily gone, what was left consisted of a Jeep which I hated and a giant S.U.V. that drove like a tank. That is, unless I counted Chase’s car, but I wasn’t going to borrow it.

Our first stop was Pete’s house, which clung to the base of the foothills, sleekly clad in all glass. I was reminded of the time I attended a party there and a friend of mine tripped out on acid and ran right through one of the panes, falling about twenty feet in a shower of shards then somehow standing up again. Poor Pete was only fourteen at the time, but his step-dad gave him a rough beating for the damages, as if it were his fault. He was such a hypocrite; I couldn’t count the number of times he’d crashed his own vehicles while drunk, high, or both. The sum of those repairs and insurance costs had to be a hundred times more than the bill for a new piece of glass. Sometimes, it was completely understandable why Pete acted the way he did.

Unfortunately, there was no sign of my Porsche, and he wasn’t answering his phone, either. We sat parked on the street while I sent him a text:

“Thx for returning my phone last night. How about u bring back my car now?? ”

I started to get lightheaded, and Annabelle said she was hungry, so we went to Westwood Village and ate hamburgers out on the covered patio. Both cloaked in our sunglasses, we sat mostly silent in the wake of our meal, idly slurping our straws at the melted ice and soda mixture in the base of our cups. It was another warm, cloudless day; the kind that truly made L.A. seem like heaven. Business people walked briskly back to their cars at the end of their lunch hour, and college kids with backpacks trudged past in search of food or coffee.

“So,” Annabelle began, cautiously. “Chase said you two never even messed around before last night with me.” I stared straight ahead, knowing this conversation was coming.

“That’s true,” I said, nodding, electing not to tell her about that night in Vegas long ago.

“Is it wierd? Being your stepbrother and all?” she asked with particular relish. She wasn’t teasing me, but the circumstances clearly piqued her interest.

“Well, kind of,” I said. “But not because of that . I mean, our parents fell in love, and so here we are. We’re not actually related.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “But it’s weird because he’s your stepbrother...at least a little bit, right? And you went all that time, then all of a sudden...”

“I’ve been fucking his brother for over a year,” I blurted out. She put down her cup emphatically, flashing an open-mouthed smile of astonishment. I pursed my lips and nodded slowly, as if to say “indeed.”

“So why him and not Chase?” she asked, leaning forward.

“It just sort of started happening with Foster,” I said, shrugging. “Truth is, I’m not even that attracted to either of them.”

“So you have sex with people you aren’t attracted to?” she asked.

“Well, they have appeal,” I said, unsure how to explain it when I really didn’t know how I felt about it myself. I never looked at it quite that way. “But not like somebody I’d date, or anything like that. But they’re both fucks.”

“Well, at least one is!” she said, laughing. I was relieved, sensing that the questioning might be over. I was wrong.

“But what about Omar?” she asked, as we walked along the sidewalk.

“What about him?” I said, stalling.

“Well, like, does Chase complicate that? And do you still mess around with Foster even with a boyfriend?”

“I’m realistic about Omar,” I said, doing my best to sound like I had it all figured out. “He’s a club promoter, he flirts a lot- with you, for instance. So I know he fucks around, and he probably thinks the same about me.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” She asked. “Imagining him messing around behind your back?”

“It’s not like we’re soulmates or anything,” I said. “It’s just sex, either way. He and I have a good time together, our sex lives are another subject.” In the process of saying this, I realized that we actually didn’t have a good time together all that often.

“So if you knew he had sex with somebody else, that wouldn’t hurt?” she asked.

“No,” I said emphatically. “Our connection is about more than sex.” She looked at me and nodded, though I knew she was less than convinced.

Omar had texted me twice so far that day, and I didn’t have the slightest desire to return them yet.

-

I still hadn’t gotten a reply from Pete, having texted him two more times as I drove. My anxiety was building, thanks in part to Annabelle’s probing questions. I called over to Aqua and reserved spa treatments for the two of us. Maybe it would help me to relax, reset myself, and think a little clearer about what to do.

We removed our cotton robes, laying on opposing benches in the eerily quiet sauna, having finished our pedicures. Our heads were at opposite ends, allowing us to prop our heads up and face each other. Her curves went longer and leaner when she laid down, with her big breasts falling gently to both sides and her ass flattened under the weight of her hips. When she bent her knee, lifting her thigh up, I could see her bright pink bud glistening, even in shadow.

“So, honestly, do you like doing it with Chase?” she asked, rolling her head to the side to make eye contact. I briefly hated myself, having already faced the reality that on top of cheating on my boyfriend remorselessly, I really did enjoy fucking Chase. I still didn’t want to, mostly because I didn’t want to find myself seeking it out on a regular basis. That felt so wrong, for reasons I still couldn’t quantify. But, when he pulled out of me and went on to finish inside of Annabelle, I found myself feeling bitterly envious, wishing it was me. These were very fucked up things to accept, and I knew better than to own up to them verbally.

“Nah,” I said, dismissively, then focused my eyes on hers. “I like being with you. It’s natural.” She sat up, leaning on her elbow and shifting her weight onto her hips, suddenly and accidentally striking a pose that would look right at home in a 19th Century painting.

“I think so too,” she said. “And honestly, I really like him. I just don’t want anything weird, like where we fight over him. But, I think I like you more,” she said with a gleaming eye. “And I love being with both of you.” Her words dripped of arousal, slowly rolling out. I joined her on her bench, briefly weathering another mini-bout of dizziness as I stood up. By the time we left the sauna, we had at least as much of each others’ sweat on us as our own.

-

Pete finally texted me back, letting me know he was in a motel down near the airport, “hanging out”. I responded, telling him I’d kill him if he didn’t stay put long enough for me to get there. The two of us strode toward the valet stand in lock step, our heels clicking against the pavement in unison. We had pedicures, sauna/spa treatments, head-to-toe massages, and a phone number for Ricky, Annabelle’s masseuse, who, to our immense relief, was not gay.

“I give him, oh...about five minutes after he gets off work before he calls you,” I said, to which she beamed. I felt renewed and ready to conquer; what, I still wasn’t sure, but a good start would be sorting out my deadbeat cousin. Omar let me know he was going to be around if I wanted to meet him for a drink, and Chase sent me this gem, probably right around the time Annabelle was two fingers deep, making my head spin:

“ Did you find your car?? btw, Anna says she will only fuck me if ur in the mix. Lucky you!! Hahaha.”

“Wow. Look at that,” Annabelle said as we turned onto the Marina Expressway. “It’s so beautiful.” I looked around for several seconds before realizing that she was talking about the ocean. The mid-day sun reflected off it’s shimmering surface, rendering it in a moving mosaic of turquoise, deep blue, and gold. She was right; it was fucking incredible, all you had to do was notice. Without her there, I never would have.

-

The motel Pete led me too was considerably less beautiful. Situated right off the beach in a neighborhood that time and progress forgot, it’s white plaster walls were cracked, and any romantic oceanfront ambiance was negated by its location directly under the flightpath of LAX. In the time that it took us to turn off the main road and into the parking lot, two jumbo jets passed overhead before landing, shaking the palms and spewing fuel exhaust.

I was relieved to find my Porsche in the parking lot, with only a minimal dent and scrape on the back right corner. The top was up and I couldn’t see much of the inside through the window tinting, but as far as I could tell, everything was still in one piece; I’d feared worse.

I texted him to find out which room he was in.

Pete: “Walk around to the back, the door is open.”

Walking along ocean side of the small motel, there was one open door. As we got closer, two young Latina girls in bikinis walked out of it and toward the beach. A Juan Gotti rap song was playing inside, echoing out onto the continuous concrete patio.

The lights were off in the room except for the fluorescent fixture of the bathroom mirror in the back, and the curtains were drawn. An iPod and speakers were sitting atop the television, playing at a volume slightly too loud for comfort, but Pete didn’t seem to care. He was sitting in a chair near the small table, with another Latina girl in fishnets and a tube top on his lap, looking like he was holding court. Two large Latinos were sitting on the bed playing cards, or at least they were until we walked in.

“Ooh damn!” one said, while the other let out a Spanish catcall that I didn’t understand. Annabelle said hello; I ignored them.

“Looking good, Nikki,” Pete said.

“Gross...” I muttered.

“You too Annabelle. Good to see you again.” He leered at her while taking a drag off of a cigarette.

“What the fuck are you doing down here,” I asked. “And thanks for wrecking my car, shithead.” The Latina gave me a “who the fuck is this bitch” glare, and Pete rolled his eyes as if I were nagging him about the laundry.

“Hop up, baby, I gotta take care of some business,” he said, prompting her to stand up with a sigh and walk back toward the bathroom. He motioned for me to follow him back outside, then took off in a nervous gait, forcing me to jog in my stilettos to catch up. Two Mexican men in white tank tops gave us a double-take before entering another room. “Don’t fucking do that in front of everybody,” he scolded me in a heated whisper until we were a good distance from his room.

“So you want to tell me why the fuck you stranded me in the valley at 3am, then robbed me and kept my car? You know I want to help you, but what the fuck?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I had to get the fuck outta there,” he said. “I was late to be someplace else already.”

“Yeah, late getting to my house to steal my shit, apparently,” I said. He tried to give me an explanation which I knew was bullshit, but I let him tell it to me anyway.

“So, fuck Mickey, I’m done with him. These guys, my new crew...” We paused while a jet thundered overhead, wheels out. “They use this motel for their base,” he said. “It’s cool, you know...just chill here, smoke a little weed, make some money. They won’t fuck me around like Jimmy’s assholes.”

“Pete, these are gangsters. You’re sixteen fucking years old. You think life here’s going to be a fucking Pitbull video?” I asked. “You delivered a bunch of drugs and cash- MY drugs and cash, to be specific...of course things are good. For now.”

“Nik, chill the fuck out. I’m sorry I took from you okay?” he said, with some remorse. “I was in a jam, though. Didn’t have a choice, don’t you understand that?!”

“I always do,” I said. “Anybody here know where I live? I’d hate to think you gave anybody a map to your free fucking treasure.” A curtain opened nearby; a gun appeared first, then a menacing pair of eyes. As soon as I looked, they disappeared.

“Yo, guero! Tell your bitch goodbye and get in here, you got a customer,” one of the two card-playing men yelled at him from the doorway.

“Wait a minute...you owe them money too, don’t you?” I asked. “That’s why you’re hanging around in this piece of shit motel.” He nodded, averting his eyes. “Glamorous. Make sure you tell them to enjoy my drugs. You’re a piece of shit sometimes, Pete. I hope you live to grow the fuck up.”

When we got back to the room, two goateed white guys were standing idly near the door, and Pete walked back to the bathroom area, reaching into a bag after one of the Mexican men whispered into his ear. Annabelle was talking to the fishnet-wearing Latina and one of the two bikini girls.

“Nikki, this is Theresa and Claudia, they came to the house with Pete last night,” she said. The light-bulb flickered in my head: these were the two ‘skank-ass hoes’ that DeDe mentioned. “They live up closer to you, can they come back tonight?” I nodded, distracted, watching Pete’s transaction with the two white boys.

“Yeah, sure. Nice to meet you,” I said, realizing that they did, in fact, know where I lived. “Just make sure to bring your own drugs.” They looked at me as if they were insulted, but failed to understand the insult. I grabbed my keys as soon as I saw them, fearing that they might think to hold the car for his debt as well.

“You guys make sure and inhale the shit out of those poppers right before you fuck,” I said, walking past the two guys receiving their goods. “You won’t believe how hard and long-lasting it will make your dicks.”

Pete shot me a bitter look as we walked out the door to a new serenade of cat calls from three guys loitering on the terrace. I gave Annabelle directions back to the house, then sent her off in my Porsche. I sat alone in the parking lot, gathered myself, then slowly drove away.

-

I knocked four times before somebody answered the door at Johnny Redwine’s house.

“Nikki, what’s up,” Jordan said, stepping aside for me to enter. “Jimmy’s back there doing some business, but he’ll be back up soon.” A young couple sat on the couch, heavy-lidded, and barely acknowledging me as I walked past. Outside, two girls and a guy were laying out, while a small tanned man worked diligently to clean the adjacent pool. I fucking hated going over there, truthfully. There were always too many weird hanger-ons, and they all acted high, all the time. Who knew when one of them would be an undercover cop?

Jimmy was taking forever, and in the meantime, I was weathering Jordan’s unsubtle flirting; a trait that’s often endearing in the right hands; but in his case, not so much.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking hot, Nicki,” he would say with unnerving intensity. “If I could, man, I would bend you over and bang the...”

“Nikki-girl, sorry to keep you waiting like that,” said Jimmy, interrupting Jordan just as he was getting to the meat of his fantasy. He emerged from the dark hallway, pulling a t-shirt over his head as he walked. A small, dark-haired girl followed behind him, wearing nothing but bikini bottoms and a tank top. She gave me a demure glance, then walked to the back patio doors toward the pool. “To what do I owe the honor today?”

I told him I needed a few things, so he motioned me to follow him back down the hall and into a bedroom. He offered me a drink while he gathered the things I needed, and I accepted; anything to get my head a little more right.

While he was wrapping it up and counting my cash, I asked him if he knew anything about Pete, since I found out he was working for him. I told him about the money and drugs he’d taken from me, and asked what he knew. Jimmy shook his head in response.

“Nikki, I’m not the person to be giving you family advice,” he said, then took a sip of his drink. “But if I was, I’d tell you to keep your distance from that kid; he’s bad news and when he gets shit on- and he will- you don’t want to be close enough for it to get on you, too.” He told me he’d jumped ship, and was taking some customers with him, apparently. “You’re one of the best customers I’ve got...and definitely the sexiest,” he said with a big smile, succeeding in flattering me. “I won’t go out of my way to bust him up; I know who he is. But I also won’t let him make a fuck out of me. He’s a stupid punk kid, and somebody’s gonna make an example of him, but I’ll try not to let it be me. You understand that, right?” I nodded and thanked him, then set about answering the texts I’d received since arriving at my drug dealer’s house as I walked back toward my dad’s Maserati with the drugs tucked under my arm.

-
Annabelle let me know that she’d made it home, but was about to go back out to do some shopping, and look into rescheduling her college orientation. I let Chase know I’d picked up some pot, which hopefully would stop his repeated “where the fuck is my stash??” texts.

I texted Omar back and agreed to meet him for a drink. As I drove up Sunset toward the bar, I thought about what a fuck up Pete was, but also how even that situation might have been different with my dad around. I’d almost talked him into taking Pete in when he passed away, and ever since then it’s been a downward spiral. My hand idly stroked the leather of the seat, remembering the times I’d ride along in this car wherever my dad went, including the six hour drive to camp every year. Pulling into the parking lot, I considered opening up the package that Jimmy sent me off with; I needed something to stem the tide of emotion, but didn’t trust myself on anything hard. Hell, right then, I didn’t trust myself sober. I tried to hold back the tears, which only coaxed them out in greater numbers. By the time I walked in and joined Omar at his table, passing businessmen in the midst of their after-work benders, I was a sobbing wreck.

Two glasses of Pouilly-Fuisse did nothing to steady my inner despair, nor did venting to Omar, since it was the the very things I couldn’t really talk about- Annabelle, Chase, even Foster- which tortured me most painfully. These walls of toxic desire were closing in, threatening to knock down the protective ones I’d put up so carefully.

“Baby, you’re a mess,” he said, concerned, halting my order for a third glass of wine and asking for a check. “You need a break from all that mess up at the house, too. It’s not helping you, baby.” After a moment, his eyes lit up and he smiled. “Let’s get out of here; I have an idea.”

We stopped at his apartment, leaving the car running while he ran inside, returning with a small knapsack. He made a few phone calls, trudging along in the heavy evening traffic, letting people know he wouldn’t be around tonight. The sun set over the Pacific just as we emerged out of the hills on I-5, heading south past the last of the Orange County suburbs. I drifted in and out of a catnap, curled up in the passenger seat of his BMW sedan with a continuous Skrillex mix playing on the stereo system.

“I used to come down here with my brothers all the time,” he said, as we pulled off of the freeway and parked near a cliff overlooking the ocean. Walking down a rocky path, still trying to shake the dull wine buzz, I realized my Kate Spade heels would not make it unscathed, so Omar carried me down the winding cliff-side trail on his back until we reached the beach. The cool sand under my feet and the salt breeze off of the ocean reminded me of how much I enjoyed the beach, even though I barely even noticed the ocean anymore. A dense orange glow occupied the sky to the north and the south: the lights of San Diego and Los Angeles. But where we were was total darkness, aside from the soft glow of moonlight and its glimmering white reflection on the water.

Sitting against an outcropping of rocks at the back edge of the beach, Omar opened his knapsack and removed what looked like a sandwich bag and two bottles of water.

“I’ve been saving this for the right time,” he said, reaching into the bag and handing me what felt like a tiny piece of dried fruit. “It tastes like shit, but you just gotta power through it. Eat nine or ten of these; it will change your life, baby.”

-

Time stopped when the crippling nausea faded like a rainstorm giving way to sunlight. The horrible taste in my mouth was gone; the sadness and neuroses washed away. We watched the stars dance across the sky in rhythm with the music in my head as the beautiful dream intensified. The black sky opened up, raining gorgeous new colors down onto the beach and giving us a view of eternity.

I bathed in sex, and color, and clear-eyed calm. The demons were gone and I had everything to give again, free of fear or doubt. I gave myself to Omar out on the rocks, overlooking the world below. He was inside of me, giving me his warmth, sharing his journey with me. I saw love and happiness in the distance, leading me to it.

“It’s all going to end soon,” said the blonde man sitting by the fire. The fire was all around us, keeping us warm, lighting the way. The ocean came up to greet me, swallowing me whole, cleansing me, before giving me back to the solid ground and lovingly caressing me with it’s soothing waves. Sometimes when I turned around Omar was there, smiling, sometimes it was somebody else, and sometimes it was everybody.

I gave myself to the blonde men and women, floating through the winds, warmed by their fleeting heat: drinking, eating, loving, fucking. They laughed and sang as the light flickered and the sky wrapped around us like a deep purple blanket. Sex engulfed and became me, one and the same; life became orgasm as the the world around us lost all importance. We untethered ourselves, giving all of what he wad to each other, then let the waves of clarity wash over me again, leading me back to Omar.

“It’s all going to end soon,” said the blonde man, again, fading away from me. I knew he was right. I saw my house- the Chateau Glissant- and in it I saw the sadness. I ran away, laughing, desperately grasping to the peace I’d found, but newly mindful of the darkness that would soon creep around the corner. I saw love disappear into the distance, but I never stopped chasing it.

It was all going to end soon.

-

“What’s wrong with you?” Annabelle laughed. “Come on, zombie!” She was on top of Chase, holding her hips tantalizingly in mid air, gripping the head of his cock before sliding down on it, squealing each time he pushed his hips up to penetrate her deeply.

“Haha she can’t do anything with that dick in her ass,” Chase said, before grunting and turning his attention back to the blonde girl fucking him cowgirl-style, pressing her hands onto his shoulders, pinning him down.

“I know, but she’s been so out of it this morning!” she said. She screamed joyously as he flipped her over in one motion and began to thrust deeply, squishing her juices audibly as he forced the air and juice from her cunt.

-

We were in my bed, and it was daylight. I’d waken up on the pool deck in the now salt-encrusted clothes that I’d worn the day before. Pete and the fishnet girl were passed out in the great room, almost as if in mid-coitus. Annabelle came out to find me and said she was taking me to bed; all the while, I was thinking there was a chance that I was embodying my own dream instead of reality. But as the three of them seduced me, taking me before the cobwebs could reveal any of traces of my euphoric peace from the night before, I was on my belly with Foster thrusting into me from above, loudly rippling my ass on impact. The churning, wet heat of my pussy was intense, begging to be filled again. I tried to speak but couldn’t, drooling and grunting, half-muffled by the mattress. I turned my head, watching Annabelle’s tits sway heavily under Chase’s deep strokes.

“I love you,” she mouthed silently, gripping my hand in hers until she came, moaning in that delicious low register that was now so familiar. I wanted to cum too; I wanted to cum with her, but couldn’t get a hand underneath my body to help bring it out.

A tinny rendition of the electronic intro to Lady Gaga’s “You and I” rang out suddenly, prompting Annabelle to mewl regrettably, then playfully slap Chase.

“Stop it, I have to get that,” she said, going from giggle to half-pout in the space of a sentence. “It’s my dad. If I don’t pick it up, he’ll probably like drive down here to get me.”

“Her fucking dad?” Foster said out loud, just before took the call. “I can’t believe she stopped for that.” They both dismounted us, leaving a cool, drafty sensation in my momentarily gaping asshole.

I was hazy, bewildered, and still drenched in desire for orgasm, but managed to laugh inside at the thought of her dad being able to see what was on the other side of the phone right then. She left the room, walking down the main hall naked, explaining her supposed goings-on to her father.

I flipped over onto my back, catching Foster and Chase in a shared glance, both of them still flushed, with unabated pulsing erections.

“Imagine my surprise when I found out you liked it in your ass, too?” Chase said with an evil ‘gotcha’ grin. I glanced at Foster, who winked at me. “And we both had a Viagra breakfast, just for you two.” But I had a feeling that they weren’t going to wait long for Annabelle to return.