Roomie's Racket

Alison Rey tries to focus on her sales pitch but her roommate Ember Snow has Mocha Menage on all fours in the next room, slapping skin and groaning loud enough to shake the walls. She mutes the video call, cheeks burning, as each wet slap cuts through her headphones. When the meeting finally ends she marches down the hall to bitch at them. The door stands wide open. Ember’s hips slam into Mocha from behind, fingers digging into brown flesh, sweat gleaming on both bodies. Alison’s complaint dies in her throat. Heat floods between her legs so fast it almost hurts. She presses against the doorframe, hand slipping under her shorts. Two fingers push inside with zero resistance, thumb working her clit in tight circles while she watches Ember’s strap glide in and out, coated and shiny. Mocha moans like she’s coming apart. Alison’s breath catches. Then Ember glances over and catches the movement in the doorway. Her grin spreads slow. “Looks like we’ve got company,” she says. Mocha turns, pupils blown, lips slick. Alison yanks her hand back, stammering excuses, but the two women trade a look and Ember steps forward, strap still glistening. “You can keep watching,” she offers, “or you can get closer. Apology accepted either way.” Alison’s knees feel weak. She nods once, already pushing her shorts down, stepping into the room as Ember’s hand finds the small of her back and pulls her in.