Noise Complaint

Two uniform cops rapped on the door, the bass thumping through the wood and up their arms. It took three knocks before a bride-to-be swung it open, beaming, eyes glassy with alcohol. Not a flicker of worry crossed her face. She waved them straight inside. Angela and Silvia stepped in, confused by the sight of two flushed brides-to-be—Serena and Alix—dripping with cheap tiaras and cheaper tequila. The women circled them, laughing too loud. Angela leaned close to her partner. “They think we’re the strippers,” she hissed, already feeling heat in her chest. Shift was over. Why not play along? She started on her top button, walking slow and sure toward Serena. “Who’s been a bad girl?” The grin that left Angela’s lips was all teeth. Shirts hit the floor; Silvia followed, hips rolling to the beat. Throbbing music swallowed every word. Angela climbed onto Serena’s lap, knees planted on either side of the couch, grinding in time with the bass while Serena’s fingers clawed at the small of her back. Silvia straddled Alix the same way, pressing slick heat against the thin lace that still covered her. Moans spilled out between clenched teeth. Hands were everywhere—fingertips slipping under waistbands, mouths latching onto hard nipples, tongues circling tight. The brides arched, their breathing ragged, legs spreading without thought. Angela buried two fingers knuckle-deep in Serena and twisted, curling up until the bride’s hips stuttered and she cried out. Silvia replaced her own fingers with her tongue, lapping at Alix in messy, eager strokes while the girl’s thighs trembled around her head. Sweat slicked every inch of skin; the air smelled like perfume, booze, and sex. They switched places in a tangle of limbs, Serena face-down in Silvia’s lap, Alix on her back with Angela riding her mouth. The whole room throbbed with slick sounds and half-swallowed names. Every cunt got attention—licked, fingered, fucked until slick ran down thighs. Time blurred under the lights. Somewhere under the heavy pulse of the bass, the brides never asked why real strippers carried handcuffs on their belts.