Best Birthday Present

John Strong spent his whole birthday waiting for something from Dylan, something to prove he still mattered. Nothing came. He walked out the door already half convinced the day meant nothing. Turns out Dylan was just letting the clock run. He sank into the couch hours later, wondering which silent sin earned him this chill. That doubt died fast. Dylan stepped out in a see-through thong and bra so thin it may as well have been smoke. She told him a client was due, but the client wasn’t a stranger. Kira Noir walked in wearing nothing except red fish-net stockings that hugged every curve like sin. Dylan smiled, asked John to film, said the show was his present. He lifted the phone. Dylan leaned in, kissed Kira like she meant to bruise her. Bras hit the floor. Dylan thumbed Kira’s dark nipples until they tightened, then slid lower and traced the edge of Kira’s pussy through the netting. She had Kira stretch out on her stomach, peeled the heels away, then the stockings, slow enough that the silk whispered. Dylan’s hands worked the oil from neck to calves, then flipped Kira over and kept spreading warmth across tits and belly. Kira moaned, grabbed Dylan’s hair, tongues sliding deep. John felt his cock twitch against the fly of his jeans. He set the camera on the table, knelt behind Dylan, spread her cheeks, shoved the thong aside, and buried his tongue in her wet slit. Dylan gasped into Kira’s mouth, pushed her ass back for more. Kira watched over Dylan’s shoulder, eyes glassy with hunger. Three bodies began to move like heat looking for somewhere to burn.