The Best Revenge Is Lezzing Well

Katrina was fuming, arms full of shit she still couldn’t believe her ex left dumped in cardboard like garbage. Her fingers kept curling into fists. “He’s an asshole,” she spat to Scarlett. “Couldn’t even box things right. Like I was trash too.” Scarlett stood by the window with a wicked grin. “Want to make sure the whole block knows he’s trash?” Katrina turned, a spark catching behind her eyes. Scarlett pulled her closer, the blinds half-open. “We fuck. Right here, glass to your back. Let them watch.” Katrina raised an eyebrow but her pulse jumped. “I’m not gay.” Scarlett shrugged, biting her lip. “Then don’t fall in love—just moan so they hear him lose you.” Her hands slid under Katrina’s shirt, peeled it off, and tossed it across the floor. She nudged Katrina’s jeans down and pulled her breasts free. The wet tongue on her nipple, the bite, the shake in her legs—he’d never done it like that. Scarlett pushed her against the cool pane, panties dragged aside, fingers sliding in deep while Katrina clung to her hips. Every thrust was sharp, every sound deliberate. Her forehead thudded against the glass and she moaned louder than shame allowed. One neighbor’s porch light flicked on. Another silhouette appeared. Katrina pressed back, spread wider, heart hammering, making damn sure every lazy stroke of Scarlett’s tongue punished him where the whole block could see.