A Little Pick-Me-Up

The text hits Rocky’s phone like a slap. Their date’s off. Robin goes quiet, shoulders curling in like she’s taking the hit for every shitty rejection she’s racked up lately. Olivia’s the first to move, sliding closer, hands light on Robin’s arms, voice low and steady, trying to patch the damage. Rocky just stands there, jaw tight, feeling the guilt chew through him. The apologies land flat. Robin won’t look up. Then the idea sparks between the three of them—heat first, words after. Olivia offers it blunt. A threesome. No frills, no strings, just bodies and noise to drown the ache. Robin blinks, startled, but her mouth twitches into something hungry. She says yes, quick, like she needs to feel wanted before the doubt creeps back in. Clothes come off fast. Rocky’s mouth on Robin’s neck, Olivia’s fingers already between her thighs, spreading heat and slick. Robin arches, gasping, legs open on the couch while Olivia tongues her clit in wet, greedy circles and Rocky strokes his cock against her hip. She takes him first, straddling Rocky as Olivia straddles his face, riding his tongue, hands braced on Robin’s tits, pinching her nipples, sucking bruises into her chest. They trade positions again and again—Robin on all fours getting fucked from behind by Rocky while Olivia lies underneath, licking both of them, spit and come mixing on her tongue. Then Olivia straps up, sliding into Robin slow and deep, Rocky kneeling in front so she can choke on his cock, drool spilling down her chin, eyes glassy. Robin comes hard, shaking between them, thighs slick, ass red from Rocky’s grip. They keep going, sweat-slick skin, tangled limbs, every hole used until the sting of the canceled date is just another wet memory on the sheets.