In the dark, silent suite late at night, only soft moans of pleasure and the wet slap of skin broke the quiet. Clarice, on all fours at the edge of the bed, was getting fucked hard by Doug standing right behind.

He drove into her with slow, powerful thrusts, gripping the hips of the gorgeous beauty tightly, finally owning the woman he’d fantasized about for years.

“Harder,” Clarice breathed.

Owning her was a big word. He was fucking her daily now, sometimes twice, but she always made the first move. She’d shut him down cold if he even hinted. In bed, she held the reins, telling him exactly what she wanted and expecting him to deliver.

Doug doubled his efforts. He could have been frustrated by the situation, he loved dominating his conquests, but he was too damn happy feeling his cock buried deep in his best friend’s ex-fiancée. Plus, he was starting to figure her out, the buttons to push to get what he wanted.

“Really… hgnn… Edward is an idiot… hgnn… I can’t understand how he would ever cheat on someone like you… hgnn… I almost want to film it all to rub it in his face.”

Eyes closed, back to him, Clarice bit her lip at the thought.

“Do it,” she whispered.

“What?” Doug froze as he was buried deep.

“Film us. Do your worst.”

He felt his cock swell inside her. Or maybe her walls clamped tighter. A wicked grin spread across his face. His right hand slid from her hip, slowly tracing down to the last hole he hadn’t claimed yet. Clarice turned her head, half-amused, half-commanding. “Not that worst.”

He smirked. “Worth a shot.” He pulled out abruptly, dropped to his knees, spread her plump ass cheeks, and dove in, tongue straining but sure as it lapped her swollen clit.

“Oh my…” Clarice sighed, eyes fluttering shut, forgetting his attempt entirely. He ate her out for minutes, driving her insane until her thighs shook, orgasm building, then stopped. She groaned in frustration. In seconds, he grabbed her phone, started video, propped it on the nightstand facing them, then positioned behind her again, cock throbbing inches from her dripping sex, hands firm on her hips.

“So, doing my worst? Ready to shove it in Edward’s face?”

“Yes…” she breathed, staring straight into the lens. He plunged in all at once, up to the hilt. Clarice let out a long moan. He resumed his slow, brutal rhythm, each thrust making her heavy tits swing beneath her.

“You said… hghn… you weren’t satisfied with me? Hnnh… Look what you could’ve had every night… hggnh,” she taunted the camera, voice haughty despite the pounding.

“Holy shit,” Doug thought, “She’s doing it, she's really doing it.”

Turned on beyond belief, he sped up. Emboldened, he grabbed a fistful of dreadlocks, yanked hard, her head snapped back, back arching deeper, a cry half-shock, half-ecstasy ripping from her throat.

“Look at her, Edward!” he growled to the camera while hammering her. “Does she look frigid now, you fucking idiot?”

He waited for backlash. Nothing, just louder moans, her core gripping him like a vice. “Now or never.” He climbed half onto the bed, shoved her face into the sheets, still rutting her savagely, hips slapping like whips. He stared at the lens, smirking viciously. “Watch me fuck her like she’s mine. Because now, she is.”

Clarice’s body started shaking uncontrollably, hands clawing the sheets. He pulled her head up slightly, barking: “Tell him you love it!” His thrusts were vicious now, thick cock wrecking her.

“Yes! Oh fuck ye... aaaah!” she screamed as a massive orgasm crushed her, her inner walls spasming. Doug kept going a few more seconds, then roared as he came. Clarice felt him empty himself deep inside her, pumping rope after rope, while their cries mingled.

~oOo~

Clarice lay naked on her back. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, her dark, hard nipples pointing skyward, her dreadlocks spread out around her head.

“What… was… that?” she finally managed, voice hoarse between gasps.

Doug, sprawled beside her, let out a breathless chuckle. “Me… doing my worst, I guess.”

Clarice did not answer. She remained lying there breathless, staring at the ceiling, her heart pounding.

“You didn’t like it?” he asked, a hint of worry in the voice, suddenly afraid he’d pushed too far, too fast.

“I don’t know,” she breathed.

“You don’t know?” he echoed, incredulous, propping himself on an elbow to look at her.

“It’s not… I’m not used to that kind of experience.”

He arched a brow, smirking. “Doesn’t mean you didn’t like it.”

Clarice rolled onto her side, propped her head on her hand, elbow sunk into the mattress. Her heavy breasts pressed together, a bead of sweat sliding down the valley. She met his eyes, slowly reclaiming control, that cool confidence she wore like armor.

“Let’s say I did like it. But it’s not necessarily something I want to repeat.”

Doug smiled, understanding the implication. She was trying to regain control, she wanted to remind him who was in charge. "She wants the reins. Fine… for now."

“I get it,” he said.

Clarice narrowed her eyes, a mocking smile on her lips. “Anything you want to add?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Doug replied with a crooked grin, still lying naked beside her. “I mean… I could’ve done worse.”

Clarice arched a brow, still catching her breath.

“Really? I can’t see how.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, his glacier-blue gaze sliding shamelessly over her naked body. “By inviting your little redhead friend to bed, for example. I’m pretty damn sure fucking her would be something else… Am I wrong?”

Clarice felt her stomach clench. “What? No… I mean… I don’t know… we’ve never… she’s just a friend,” she stammered, cheeks suddenly burning, voice far less steady than she wanted.

Doug chuckled softly, all fake innocence. “Really? Yet she kissed you right on the mouth the other night… Maybe I misread the signals.”

The image hit her: Emma’s soft, warm lips against hers, that kiss a little too long, a little too wet, tequila-fueled. Clarice had had a few lesbian experiences in her younger days but nothing since Edward. She felt a jolt shoot through her, her core throbbed involuntarily.

"Fuck, why is my body reacting like this?" she thought.

She’d never thought of Emma that way. Never. But now she could suddenly picture her friend’s pale skin, the curve of her breasts under those tank tops, the little French moans she might make… and the thought tightened her throat while sending another rush of wetness between her legs.

“Stop… it’s not… it’s not like that between us,” she murmured, but her voice lacked conviction.

Doug stood then, naked and completely unashamed as he walked to the nightstand. He grabbed the phone. He stopped the video, then handed it to her. “You gonna send it to him?”

She took the device, set it face-up on the sheet in front of her. Her breathing had finally steadied, her skin still flushed from the effort. She held his gaze without blinking: "I'll send it if I feel like it".

Doug felt the awkwardness rise, regretted pushing. He cleared his throat, trying to regain composure.

“I can head out… or stay a bit, if you want. For me, it was… fucking incredible.”

Clarice gave a soft smile, warmer this time, but firm. “You can go. I need to rest.”

He nodded, mirrored her smile. He scooped up his scattered clothes, pulled them on in quick motions. Without another word, he slipped out, closing the door softly behind him. Clarice lay alone, naked on the wrecked bed, staring at her phone for a long moment.

~oOo~

Emma slipped quietly into the bedroom, wrapped in the hotel’s plush white robe, naked underneath. She flicked on the soft light and froze. Clarice was still lying on the bed, completely naked, in the same position as when Doug left. She was staring at her phone, watching a video. The second the light came on, she killed the sound and locked the screen. Emma whipped her head away, cheeks burning.

“Oh my God, sorry! I… I didn’t think you’d be totally naked like that…”

Clarice burst out laughing.

“What, you’ve never seen another woman naked? Or is it me that’s got you flustered?”

With a fluid leap, she sat up and grabbed the second robe from the chair, slipping it on slowly. Emma risked a quick glance to see if her friend was “decent,” then looked away again, flustered.

“No… I mean yes, but… it feels weird seeing you like that.”

“You look relaxed,” Clarice smiled as she was slowly knotting her belt, her dark eyes sparkling with something new.

“Yeah… I’m taking advantage of the free massages Doug arranges while you two have your little… ‘meetings,’” Emma giggled, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m surprised management lets them comp us so much.”

Clarice arched a brow, smirking. “You know there aren’t normally any client massage slots this late, right? Something tells me your masseur wasn’t just doing Doug a favor… Let me guess, he wasn’t just anyone, was he?”

Emma dropped her gaze, blushing hard. Clarice felt that same tingle low in her belly, the one from her talk with Doug. Seeing Emma so easily cornered, so vulnerable, sent an unexpected shiver straight to her still-sensitive core. Clarice’s gaze drifted down Emma’s body, lingering on the way the robe clung to her curves, the thin fabric doing almost nothing to hide the swell of her full breasts. "God, she’s gorgeous…"

She knew she shouldn’t have this kind of thoughts. Emma was her best friend, her maid of honor, the one who’d held her while she cried over Edward. But the sight of her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way she fidgeted, it was awakening something inside Clarice's body... a hunger.

“Um… yeah… it was Silas,” Emma stammered, realizing too late how naive she had been.

Clarice prowled closer, hips swaying under the half-open robe.

“So… tell me,” Clarice purred with a lower voice.

“Uh… nothing… just a massage…” Emma muttered, stepping back.

Clarice was inches away now, close enough for Emma to feel the heat radiating off her, the lingering musk of sex still clinging to her skin. Her eyes traced the line of Emma’s throat. She imagined sliding her hands under the fabric, feeling the warmth of that pale skin, tasting the salt on her body… "Stop it, Clarice. This is Emma. But fuck… why does she look so tempting right now?"

“You expect me to believe his hands didn’t wander? Even a little?”

“He… I mean... his hands tried going a bit too low on my ass. I told him to stop and he stopped,” Emma admitted, face scarlet.

Clarice’s smile widened. “You know, my sweet Emma…” she murmured, sliding her arms around her waist, “…even ‘not too low’ on the ass isn’t part of a traditional massage.”

“Wha...” Emma started, breath catching as Clarice’s hands slowly lifted the fabric, her cool fingers finally brushing the warm, bare skin of the redhead's ass.

“You didn’t go further after feeling those strong hands kneading your ass like that?” Clarice continued, voice husky, fingers tracing teasing circles.

“Clari, what are you...” Emma tried weakly, but she didn’t move. Clarice threaded a hand through her red hair, tilting her head gently; and pressed a slow, wet kiss to the hollow of her neck. A shiver shot through Emma, from her neck straight to her core. Her nipples hardened instantly under the robe, her sex, already throbbing from Silas’s teasing, flooded with fresh heat.

Clarice lifted her face, lips hovering over Emma’s. "This is wrong. But I want her. I want her so badly…"

“Experimenting...,” she whispered, just before claiming her mouth in a slow, tender, utterly sensual kiss, soft lips on soft lips, tongue brushing tentatively. Completely thrown, lost in the unexpected gentleness, Emma didn’t pull away. Her lips parted, responding hesitantly at first, then letting Clarice’s tongue in, dancing with it. Silas had left her aching, desperate, she’d planned a shower to relieve the frustration, but this… this was something else. She had never kissed a woman, not really, not passionately. But judging by his body's reaction, it seemed to be an unconscious desire: hips pressing forward, a muffled moan vibrating in her throat as Clarice’s hand slid from her hip, caressing downward…

When Clarice’s fingers finally reached her core, brushing her swollen clit, Emma jolted. But didn’t stop her. A desperate little whimper escaped into her friend’s mouth as her entire body arched toward that touch.

In a surge of passion, without removing her hand from her friend-turned-lover’s burning and soaked sex, Clarice pulled her toward the bed. With a fluid, commanding motion, she pushed Emma back onto the mattress, the robe falling open like an invitation. Emma barely had time to react before Clarice dove between her thighs, dragging her tongue slowly over her swollen clit.

“Oooooooh putain…” Emma moaned, voice ragged, back arching sharply. Clarice shivered head to toe hearing her friend curse in French, it was the sign she was finally letting go. That, and Emma’s slender fingers slipping instinctively into her dreadlocks, tugging gently, urging her on. Tasting her friend’s smooth core, she realized how much she’d missed it: that sweet-salty taste, the silky texture, the total vulnerability.

For Emma, it was an absolute first. Nothing like Nathan’s attentive oral, this was being devoured. Clarice’s tongue was everywhere: slow circles, quick flicks, brutal suction on her clit, then dipping lower to lap her inner lips. She lost all control, thighs shaking, hips bucking, a monstrous orgasm already building deep inside.

However, Clarice wasn’t done. Her dominant instinct came back and, in seconds, she straddled Emma’s face, looking at those wide, surprised green eyes. She was now riding her face holding Emma‘s hair while reaching back and her long fingers stroking Emma‘s core. Clarice arched slightly, offering her own swollen, glistening sex to Emma’s mouth.

“Go on, Em… show me what you can do with that pretty mouth,” Clarice breathed, starting to grind slowly against her lips. At the same instant, a precise circle on Emma’s clit made her open her mouth to moan. Clarice seized the moment, pressing her sex right against the warm, wet opening. Instinctively, Emma’s tongue darted out, tentative at first, then bolder, tasting a woman’s sex for the first time.

“Yes… that’s it… go on,” Clarice sighed, rolling her hips, rubbing her clit against the inexperienced but eager tongue. She kept stroking blindly behind her, fingers sliding in abundant wetness, teasing the pulsing entrance. Then she felt Doug’s thick cum start to leak out of her, dripping onto Emma’s tongue.

"I should’ve warned her…" flashed through her mind, but the pleasure was too intense, she didn’t want to stop. Emma tasted something off: a thick, salty, foreign substance hitting her palate. But she was too far gone, her own sex on fire, tongue buried in Clarice’s heat, her friend’s moans… She kept going, even more passionately, swallowing everything without thinking, driving her friend wild.

Clarice was close, but she wanted Emma to come first, or, at least, together. She plunged three fingers deep into the tight, soaked sex, curling them to hit that spot, and growled “Imagine Silas fucking you… deep…”

That was the end of it. Emma shattered in a devastating orgasm, back bowed, thighs clamping around Clarice’s hand, a muffled scream against her sex. The spasms rippled through her, her tongue thrusting deeper on reflex. Clarice followed seconds later, letting go completely: hips jerking, flooding Emma’s mouth with her juices mixed with Doug’s remnants, a long, guttural moan tearing from her throat.

She nearly collapsed, catching herself just in time with hands on the bed either side of Emma’s head. Almost immediately, she lifted off, freeing her friend’s flushed, glistening face as Emma gasped loudly for air.

The two women lay side by side on their backs, panting hard, bodies twitching with aftershocks. Then, for no reason, or maybe pure bliss, Clarice burst out laughing. A deep, freeing, joyful laugh. Emma, still dazed, caught it. She turned to her friend, met her sparkling eyes, and joined in a heartfelt, almost hysterical laugh at the delicious absurdity of it all.

Their laughter gradually faded, leaving a soft silence broken only by still-quick breaths. The two women lay side by side. Emma turned her head toward Clarice, hesitant. “That was… my first time with a woman,” she murmured at last, voice low, almost shy.

“I know,” Clarice replied simply, lying on her back, a lazy smile on her lips, eyes closed. She was still savoring the aftershocks rippling through her body.

“That was…” Emma started again, searching for words.

“Incroyable?” Clarice teased, mocking a french accent, without opening her eyes, a small laugh in her throat.

“Different,” Emma continued, a smile creeping in despite herself. “But yeah… incredible.” She let out a soft giggle and flopped back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling.

After a moment, she propped herself up on an elbow, red hair tousled over her bare shoulder. “I do have one question, though,” she said, a touch more serious. Clarice finally opened her eyes, turned toward her.

"Right before I came… I tasted something that reminded me of…”

“Yeah, that was Doug’s cum,” Clarice cut in calmly.

Emma froze. “Quoi????”

“Sorry! I was so lost in the moment… I didn't think to warn you," she lied, "He’d emptied himself completely inside me earlier. And not just a little. You must’ve swallowed a good load.”

Emma went pale instantly. She replayed it: her tongue plunging eagerly, swallowing everything that leaked from her friend’s sex, that thick, salty, foreign slickness sliding down her throat without a second thought. Her stomach twisted.

“What’s wrong? Is this the first time you swallowed?” Clarice asked.

“I… I think Nathan could forgive me for sleeping with you,” Emma whispered, voice shaking, “but not for swallowing another guy’s cum.”

Clarice sat up too, placed a gentle hand on Emma’s thigh. “Oh Emma… everything that happens here stays here. Only you and I know. No one else needs to.”

“Did it taste good?”, she added with a mischievous little smile

Emma, catching the attempt to defuse, couldn’t help smiling despite herself. “It did, but…”

“Want me to call Silas and taste him so we can compare?” Clarice went on, bursting into playful laughter.

“Oh, shut up!” Emma shot back, half-embarrassed, half-amused, grabbing a pillow and tossing it weakly at her friend’s face. She got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

“And it’s not the end of the world!” Clarice called after her, voice full of laughter. “Look at me, I fucked a guy AND a woman in the same bed less than an hour apart!”

Emma closed the door behind her with a soft laugh. Soon Clarice heard the water running, a hot shower to wash off. She lay back down, arms spread, a satisfied smile on her lips. The steady sound of running water lulled her quickly, and she drifted into deep sleep.

----

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