Slumber Party Sugar Crash

Fiona and Eva are stretched out on the floor, knees bumping, a magazine spread open between them. Fiona keeps checking the clock. Right on cue, the door swings open and Dee steps inside—big, slow-moving, heavy with that unmistakable smile of someone used to being wanted. Eva looks up, shrugs, says nothing, just pulls her knees back so Dee can get closer. She keeps turning pages while Dee grabs a fistful of Fiona's hair and yanks her in. The kiss lands hard, wet, Fiona giving up everything right away. Fingers hook under the waistband of Fiona's shorts, tear them down in one yank. Dee plants her back to the bed, spreads her wide, and pushes three fingers straight inside—sudden, deep. Fiona bucks but never looks away from Eva. Eva reaches over with her free hand, idly brushing strands of hair out of Fiona's face while Fiona keeps getting fucked, every thrust making her breathing uneven. Wet sounds punch the room—needy and filthy. When Eva wants a better view she just shifts the page so Fiona's moans don't block the captions, then keeps brushing. Dee moves from hand to mouth, cock stiff and ready, hauling Fiona up on it with a grunt. Fiona grips the blanket, takes it all without pause. Whenever Dee asks if she likes getting used in front of her friend, Fiona just gasps yes and Eva nods like someone talking about the weather. Maybe Dee tugs Fiona's hair again so she can fuck her throat, Eva still nearby, stroking smooth blonde strands, turning another page. Nobody even thinks about stopping. It's a slumber party—paper, pillows, sex, brushstroke after brushstroke while Dee keeps moving, relentless, the wet slap of skin finding rhythm with every quiet page turn.