The detritus of drug-taking is scattered all around, so Jed gathers it up, wraps it in toilet tissue and dumps it into the en suite bathroom’s waste bin. He runs his tongue around his teeth, crunches a complimentary breath mint so he can suck on the fragments and then rinses for good measure using the mouthwash he brought with him on the trip. That’ll do.

Peering through the bedroom door’s peephole he spies the girls huddled in the bright light of the corridor, clutching purses. Each beat of his heart is pumping him harder. So it’s come to this, he thinks, the words articulating distinctly in his head just before he opens the door. And to think these girls invited themselves…

‘Hi,’ he says, adopting a very different smile from the leer that the mirror reflected moment earlier. ‘Welcome to my humble pad for the night. Glad you could make it.’

‘God, we thought you were going to leave us out there forever,’ Lily says, as he ushers them within. They crush past him through the entryway and into the moodily lit space – Clara expectant, absorbing all around her, Lily excited too, but that shade more tentative. Both are cooing sentiments regarding what an attractive room it is. Both have touched up hair and make-up in the brief interim. Jed fucking loves that they felt compelled to take the time and wonders did either voice her reasons for primping in advance of this private party. He suspects not, but imagines their thought processes along the following broad lines:

Clara: Things are going to get sexxxxxyyyyyyyyy!!!!!

Lily: OhmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodwhatamIdoing???

The discussion they did have of forthcoming events probably didn’t stray beyond, ‘Are we crazy?’, answered with ‘Yes, crazy to party!’

At any rate, they’ve arrived.

‘Seems you’ve successfully fled Mum and Dad,’ the off-duty teacher says to Lily, shutting the door firmly behind him. ‘Sent that text yet?’

Her look to him is soulful, those even front teeth pinching her lip like such wilful defiance scares her. ‘Yes. Told them we’d be getting a taxi.’

‘And then switched off?’

‘Uh-huh. She can text and call me all she likes, I don’t care.’ The show of spirit colours her fair-complexioned cheeks. ‘Worry about it later, right?’

‘That about sums it up. Welcome to being a grown-up.’ They share a smile, Jed’s a matey acknowledgement of their collusion, Lily’s more like nervy delight at having won his approval. She’ll have the opportunity to win plenty more, Jed thinks. With Hyde seated comfortably at the controls (see earlier ship metaphor for details) such salacious ponderings have become the norm.

Clara is already dancing in the space between the bed and the dresser; the current mix-track receiving a club treatment is Flames, David Guetta’s impassioned collaboration with Sia. ‘Love this song,’ the olive-skinned beauty says, undulating to its insistent rhythm. Her eyes are closed and her small fists are clenched above her head. ‘You know how to set a party mood.’

‘She’s right, you do,’ Lily agrees, turning away and into the dance vortex that Clara has created, purse tossed like her friend’s onto the dresser. ‘You don’t waste any time.’ Her bridesmaid’s dress is billowy, but the pair find room opposite one another, the fair girl giving herself over to the buoyant mood established by her darker, bolder friend. Dim lights, hot beats and middling inebriation combine to form a sense of shared enjoyment in this new, private setting.

‘That’s what I like to see,’ Jed says, delving inside the minibar. ‘Guests who know how to relax and have fun. No wallflowers at this party, just straight to the mingling.’ He retrieves and sets out a variety of cans and bottles alongside the plastic cups from downstairs. ‘Okay, liquid refreshment… Who wants what?’

‘I shouldn’t,’ Lily says, pausing her dancing.

‘But you’re going to, aren’t you?’ Jed turns up his smile’s wickedness to a good seven on a scale of one-to-ten.

‘Ehhh – yes?’ she replies, her uncertainty dissolving into laughter. ‘Looks like I am. White wine, please.’

Clara is visibly entertained by her friend’s succumbing to temptation. ‘Go Lily!’ she shouts, adding with an arch smile, ‘Mix me a vodka and Coke, barman.’

‘Barman’s on it,’ Jed says. Both girls throw themselves back into the music (Calvin Harris is providing accompaniment for Dua Lipa’s One Kiss now) as Jed busies himself with the drinks, adding a Bushmills whiskey for himself. ‘Lily’s created our motto for the evening,’ he tells them as he pours.

‘What’s that?’ Clara inquires over the music.

‘“I shouldn’t, but I’m going to.”’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ she says, as Lily rolls her eyes and giggles.

‘We all will.’ He joins them and passes the spirits to both, raising his own cup. ‘Bottoms up.’

‘Sorry?’ Clara voices both girls’ bewildered mirth.

‘It’s an expression,’ he says. ‘A toast. You know, as in, “Tilt up your glasses’ bottoms.”.’

‘Ohhhhhh,’ Lily says in dawning comprehension.

‘Wait, you thought I was referring to your bottoms?’

‘We didn’t know what you were talking about, did we, Lil?’

‘Not a clue.’ Both girls are now tittering with sustained mirth.

‘Look, from what you’ve both shaken at me tonight, I’ll drink to both.’

‘You’re really going to drink to our bottoms?’ Lily says, eyebrows arched.

‘And the rest.’ Jed is enjoying himself immensely right now. ‘That’s all of both of you – no one and no parts excluded. The sexy bridesmaid and her equally sexy friend.’ They both grin tipsily – Lily blushing with pleasure, Clara validated in what she already knew. ‘Or since that’s a bit wordy and doesn’t include me,’ Jed says, ‘I’ll take my inspiration from Lily.’ He winks at her and raises his cup. ‘To doing what we shouldn’t.’

Lily smirks in recognition of her accidental motto and both girls respond: ‘To doing what we shouldn’t.’

They all drink, Jed knocking back the whiskey in one and tossing the cup over his shoulder as the liquid burns its passage down his throat. ‘Like that. And like this…’ He tugs at his bowtie with both hands and unknots it, pulling the ends out so that they hang loose. Then he unbuttons the collar of his shirt. ‘There. Very impolite, but at least I can breathe again.’

‘Such a bad-boy,’ Clara says, her eyes gleaming satirically. ‘Isn’t he?’

‘Total rebel,’ Lily joins in, her manner happily blurry.

‘Hey, my bad-boy credentials aren’t in question,’ Jed protests, the next step of his plan growing solid like his cock. ‘I’ve plied you with drinks, brought you up to my room – admittedly at your request but I could have said no – I’ve concealed you from concerned parents, handed out more even more booze… and I’m a teacher. I could hardly be more irresponsible. Not unless… No, no no no no no – I can’t go there.’

‘Go where?’ Clara asks, right on cue.

‘Nope, shouldn’t have said anything. Didn’t say anything. Forget it.’

‘Forget what?’

‘Nothing to forget. Leave it be.’

‘Leave what be?’ Even Lily is being driven mad now. ‘Tell us!’

‘I shouldn’t…’

‘Maybe not, but you’re going to,’ Clara says. ‘Isn’t he, Lil?’

‘Mmhmm,’ Lily replies, a tad breathlessly. ‘He just made us drink to it.’

‘You did,’ Clara says to Jed. ‘Go on – cut the bullshit and tell us.’

Jed pauses. He knows what he’s going to say, but the moment is worth milking. (There’ll be many milked moments before this evening is done, but then you already know that. It’s why you’re still reading, you pervert.) ‘Fuck it,’ are his words. He adds serious heft to the ‘fuck’ – lodge that in the foreshadowing bank. Then he picks up his tux jacket from the chair where he threw it and feels around into the inside breast pocket. ‘It’s not like you’re going to tell anyone. And there’s no harm in showing…’

‘Showing what?’ Lily asks, looking on with open fascination.

‘Got ‘em.’ Jed pinches hold of the DIY toilet tissue parcel. He withdraws it and places it on the centre of his palm, Lily and Clara peering close as he unfolds the scrap. Three round purple pills embossed with smiley faces. ‘With these,’ he says, ‘I really am booking my ticket to hell.’

Freezeframe Three. Clara’s features have lit up. Her eyes are wide, her smile almost as broad as that of the classic Joker, while retaining all attractiveness. She’s like a child ogling candy. The evening, already shaping up to her approval, has evidently undergone a quantum leap in excitement. Lily’s eyes are wide also, and her jaw has dropped, forming her pretty mouth into a near-perfect O. She as good as knows what she’s looking at, that much is clear, and the implications are causing her head to spin. Her friend might do this kind of shit, but she doesn’t. At least she never has up till now…

‘Oh God,’ Clara says.

‘Are those…’ Lily looks to Jed, then to Clara for confirmation. ‘Is that…’

‘Where’d you get it from?’ Clara inquires, laughing. ‘Where does a teacher get ecstasy? Shady deals with the Sixth Form boys?’

‘I have my sources,’ he tells her, ladling on the mystery. ‘Trusted ones.’

‘You…’ Lily can barely muster the words. ‘You brought ecstasy tablets to a wedding?’

‘Well I didn’t know I was going to meet such stimulating company,’ Jed says, happily going along with the blonde teen’s misconception. ‘And some weddings are terribly dull.’

‘You’re so bad…’ Lily reiterates from earlier in the evening. There’s humour in her tone, but trepidation too.

‘I’ve never claimed otherwise,’ Jed says, ‘but I’m only offering. You don’t want, you don’t take.’

‘Are you crazy? Of course we take!’ Clara says, primed to pounce.

Jed snatches his hand away, clutching the prize. ‘There’s no pressure,’ he says to the flustered Lily. ‘It’s just an option.’

‘Do I look pressured?’ Clara demands. What she looks like is a very cute panting dog.

‘No,’ Jed says, ‘but Lily’s not comfortable with it, and that’s fine. She doesn’t have to take it if she doesn’t want to. None of us do.’

‘I do,’ Clara insists. ‘Want to, I mean.’

‘I’m not… not comfortable,’ Lily protests, concerned not to appear standoffish. There’s no way this girl wants to be left out, of anything. ‘I’ve never taken any,’ she explains. ‘I’ve never really thought about it. It’s kinda – you know, something other people do…’

‘Tonight you’re those people,’ Clara says. ‘Come on, Lil, do you want a party or not?’

‘Yeah, I want a party, you know I do. I’m having a party.’

‘This’ll make the party better,’ Clara insists. ‘Way better.’

‘It will?’ Lily is in a quandary, looking to Jed, then back to Clara, like she wants to be convinced. ‘How? What does it do?’

Clara’s response exhibits an almost missionary zeal. ‘It’s hard to describe. It’s… It’s… It’s amazing. It just makes everything look better, feel better. Makes you feel better. Crazy-happy, like you’ve been – been – been drinking sunshine. Like you’re in love with… with life and everything and everyone. I’ve only done it a couple of times – at parties – not even good parties – but once I took it, they got amazing.’ On using the word this time around, she clutches Lily’s arm. ‘Go on. Try it, with me.’

‘You think I should?’ Lily looks to Jed as she says it, and he finds it rich that she’s appealing to the guy who originally proffered the E tabs for support. ‘Aren’t there risks?’

‘Not if you’re careful,’ he says. ‘I should know, I teach a class on it.’

Lily stares at him for a moment and then bursts into laughter. ‘God, you probably do, don’t you? Oh Jesus – that’s so wrong!’

‘Yeah, but it makes sense too,’ Clara contributes. ‘Who better to take it with than a teacher?’ The girls stare at each other and erupt into further hilarity, while Jed contemplates how easy wickedness is, when others turn complicit.

‘Such a responsible member of society,’ Lily slurs. She snickers and hiccups and raises an embarrassed palm to her mouth, then she looks at Jed’s clenched hand like it’s the scary end of a snake. ‘You’re taking some too, right?’

‘Of course,’ he says. ‘So… what do you think?’

‘Well…’ He can almost hear her accelerated breathing over the music. ‘Okay. Okay, I will.’

‘You sure?’

‘Mmhmm.’

‘You really shouldn’t…’

She looks at his cajoling smile. ‘No,’ she says simply, returning the smile in nervy surrender. ‘But I’m going to.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ he says, ‘Let me go first.’

It’s hard to express the thrill that Jed is feeling right now – the rush, both natural and alcoholically or pharmaceutically enhanced, through his body and his brain. Lovely Lily is effectively taking the hand of her hot, sassy friend and proceeding down Depravity Boulevard, both girls being smoothly ushered along by their bad-intentioned chaperone. And their progress is about to turn cherry-blossom gorgeous. Every moment in the following drug-related interaction pumps him rigid with ineffable joy...

First, he extends his opening palm to Lily. ‘Choose one,’ he says, ‘and put it on my tongue.’

Lily’s eyes widen. Clara wets her own lips at Jed’s bold instruction. She watches, mesmerised, as Lily takes one of the proffered pills and reaches to Jed, like she’s feeding a creature liable to snap down on her outstretched digits. He opens his mouth and extends his tongue, but not so far that she can avoid slipping her slender fingers between his lips. He curls his tongue, scooping the pill and wetly stroking Lily’s fingertips. She withdraws her hand, startled, but with her eyes still fast upon him.

Jed sucks on the dissolving tab for a moment, before stowing it in his cheek. ‘Now,’ he says to Clara, ‘open your mouth and reach out your tongue.’ The dark-haired adventurer smiles openly at his challenge, before moving to him, her soft glistening tongue extended. ‘Good,’ he says. ‘Keep that until I say.’ Then he picks the remaining tablets from his palm and places them one behind the other on the protruding pink surface. ‘Okay, Lily – the closest one is yours. Take it, but let me see you use your mouth.’

Her look to him is a moon-eyed ‘Really?’, his return glance a calm but firm ‘Yes’.

Meekly, her breath catching, she moves to retrieve. Clara presents her thrust-out tongue to her friend, the gesture sweet but with an inescapable air of lewdness. Lily reaches with her mouth, moistening her lips, but unsure how to negotiate the task. Her tongue strokes, making wet contact with Clara’s before she gathers up the tab, snaring it between tongue-tip and upper lip. She gathers it into her mouth and scurries in reverse, eyes lowered. Clara’s tongue withdraws into her mouth, and she sucks deliciously on her tablet, meeting Lily’s coy glances with one that’s sustained and unashamedly wicked. She flicks a glance to Jed that reads something like: Fuck – NOW I know why you brought us both along, you dirty, DIRTY man.

Jed cracks open the bottled water he brought, actively restraining a ‘dirty man’ grin as he passes it to Lily. He doesn’t want to overwhelm her. Not yet. ‘Here,’ he says, his casual tone belying the cocaine’s heightening rush. (How the fuck he’ll manage it along with an additional helping of ecstasy is of great interest to him, and hopefully to you, my reader-friends.) ‘To help wash it down,’ he encourages. ‘Let it dissolve properly though.’

Lily sips from the bottle and passes it to Clara, who takes a slug before passing it back to Jed. He drinks, and they all share the illicit moment to a backing of Sigala and Paloma Faith’s fine dance anthem Sweet Lullaby. Clara and Lily swallow, at least one of them with satisfaction.

‘What happens now?’ the latter asks, alert to the possibility of some frightening consequence.

‘Relax,’ Jed tells her. ‘Enjoy the music and it’ll happen in its own sweet time. Take care with them and – well – Es are good. Like the song says.’

‘What song’s that?’ Clara inquires with cheerful mockery. ‘Something my dad would know?’

Jed grins at her insinuation regarding his advancing years. It’s accurate – he was still at primary school when Scottish dance band The Shamen released their song Ebeneezer Goode at the height of the UK’s rave culture, so his older brother had to explain it all to him. He tells the girls about it expansively as they dance-huddle, so I’ll give you the edited version – specifically how the band defended the song against accusations that it encouraged use of recreational drugs. The lyrics, lead-rapper Mr C claimed when interviewed for TV, were about the eponymous life-of-the-party guy, a composite character based on friends of the band; it wasn’t by any means an exhortation to enjoy the mind-altering benefits of ecstasy, God no. This despite the frantically deranged music video, lines that sneakily detailed the drug’s virtues and a chorus where everyone chanted ‘Eezer Goode! Eezer Goode!’ while looking manifestly and joyously off their tits.

‘Pardon my using the word ‘tits’,’ Jed says, on finishing the story.

‘You keep checking out mine,’ Clara replies amid laughter at his story. ‘Do you want pardoning for that too?’

‘That’s hugely unfair,’ Jed protests. ‘I’ve been checking out Lily’s tits just as much as yours.’

‘Not quite,’ Clara corrects, ‘you’ve been checking out my tits and her ass.’

‘Is that fair?’ he asks Lily, who’s been giggling way too much to worry further about the E she dropped. ‘Have I been checking out your ass?’

‘I don’t know,’ she tells him, feigning offence that he would even ask. ‘How could I see if you were doing it? You’d be behind me!’

‘Excellent point. Well, I’m checking it out…’ – he does so in all its chiffon-caressed shapeliness – ‘right now, and I can tell you it’s fucking sensational. As are your best friend’s tits. Though I should add…’ – he addresses both, his fearlessness increasing moment to moment – ‘…that each of you is exceedingly well put-together in both departments. Tits and ass. See? I know how to compliment a girl. Now let's see you both move it all… to this.’

He’s reached for his phone while speaking and has accessed the tune so recently under discussion. The bubbling trippiness of Ebeneezer Goode’s opening fills the room, along with Mr C’s finger-wagging admonishment: ‘Naughty-naughty, very naughty!’ Then seconds later drum and bass kick in, followed by synth that provides the song’s irresistible hook. Lily and Clara are instantly infected by the track’s hedonistic mayhem.

‘I take it back,’ Clara says. ‘This kicks ass!’

‘I love it!’ Lily says. Her expression is alive with enjoyment.

Five minutes have passed since the ecstasy tab went south Jed estimates (call the time E+5), so any effects are going to be merely placebo in nature. He attempts from there to chart how the drug transforms its willing takers’ behaviour, but his own participation in the experiment, boosted by his preceding intake of cocaine, soon renders impossible any such detached observation. It’s pointless anyway. As chemical madness takes over, he knows that the evening’s course is set. Jed-Hyde’s teengirls have joined him on the E-train to Depravity Central and there’s no getting off till the getting-off. This train is express. (Line runs parallel to Depravity Boulevard, if you were wondering, but gets there way faster, hence – much better metaphor.)

Of course, we can monitor the unfolding situation, even if Jed can’t. Narrative omniscience has that kind of voyeuristic potential. So by adopting those E+ timings, we can say that during this key half-hour, events proceed thus:

E+10 – Jed has replaced The Shamen with an extended ‘90s trance mix from Ministry of Sound (the London music factory historically beloved by his brother and then by him) and is dancing to it like no one is watching. Clara is freaking out to it too, shouting ‘You’ve got good taste for an oldie, Mr Jed!’ and sweeping damp hair from her face as she shimmies right in front of him, taking care to showcase her recently commended boobs. Lily appears to have abandoned Worry while embracing Fun; she’s checking out Clara’s moves while improvising her own, shaking her estimably contoured tailfeather and going so far as to bump it daringly against Jed’s hip, following up with an impudent smile his direction.

E+15 – The heat is rising. Jed has cranked up the A/C a couple of notches and is passing around the water bottle again. Lily and Clara have embraced old-school trance music and are snaking their arms while swaying their bodies sinuously to its insistent rhythms each time it builds inexorably in momentum… before going absolutely dancefloor fuck-nuts on each explosive crescendo, shaking out their hair and their teenage booties and grinning at each other like loons. Both have kicked off their heeled shoes, both – Lily more so – are hitching up the skirts of their dresses to accommodate their on-the-spot exertions. And both are exhibiting the thinnest sheen of perspiration on their skin. Jed is exerting himself too, further buttons of his shirt now undone, and his dress-shoes removed. He’s not giving it everything though, like he’s saving his energy for later…

E+20 – A change is overcoming the girls’ dancing. It’s like before, especially during the extended trancey sequences of the music, but much more tactile. Clara is sliding her palms down the sweet curves of her body from upper ribcage all the way to her hips and back, clearly delighting in the sensation, equally so when she traces fingertips over her neck and face and into her thick hair, bunching it upward until the tresses tumble and scatter all around her. Lily is interlacing her fingers while observing them intently, then stroking the bare flesh of her arms and neck and upper chest like she’s just discovered she has skin that’s soft to the touch; the brushing of her body against Jed’s stoic form is more frequent and more insistent.

Both girls wear the smiles of basking sunworshippers (the sweat-sheen is markedly more slippery now), and beam even more insistently on catching sight of each other. They come together, entwining outstretched fingers and hands, then when Clara extends her tongue in parody of that earlier moment, Lily stretches to meet it. The contact between their tongue-tips is delicious if fleeting, and afterwards they dissolve into shared laughter, hugging each other’s dampening body close. Jed watches all as he dances, his fingers stroking his pectoral and stomach muscles through his shirt and occasionally drifting downwards to tease around the outskirts of his strenuously bulging crotch.

E+25 – Lily and Clara’s initial coming-together has developed into a fuller physical exploration each of the other. Their fingers are no longer dancing in union, but rather tracing paths across the increasingly slippery flesh of each other’s arms and shoulders and neck. They undulate front-to-front, then close-up back-to-back, Clara pressing into the expanse left bare by Lily’s sexy gown. Then the darker girl slinks around to run her fingers along the spaghetti straps criss-crossing Lily’s spine, explorer and explored visibly relishing this sensory delight.

Hotter than ever they call on Jed for more water. When he brings bottles from the mini-fridge they take advantage greedily, Clara in particular allowing water to spill over her face and drip from her chin. Then they invite him into their intimate dance party. Clara runs bold fingers over his collar bone and exposed upper chest, while Lily lays her hand on his shoulder and idly brushes his neck, a blissful smile on her face. He holds each girl lightly by the waist, one palm skin-to-silky-skin with Lily, the other pressed to Clara through a thin layer of wet cotton, as they all sway and writhe and dance.

E+30 – Everyone is showing off. Clara’s pleasure in the topography of her own body has increased, with her wandering hands paying particular attention to her breasts. She even asks her best friend to take a feel at one point, Lily expressing gigglesome awe at the firm squishiness of the sampled globe. The bridesmaid herself is swaying low, pulling her hair up while accentuating the curves of her neck, her back and her ass. Both girls back onto Jed at one point, Clara grinding her ass full into his crotch, while Lily competes by wriggling tight against him cheek-to-cheek. He places a firm hand on the pelvic bone of each girl and moves with them, the still-dressed meat in their sandwich.

The room is achieving the quality of a sauna and even though Jed has turned up the A/C some more, each close-pressed body is properly lathered in sweat. Lily has occasionally been plucking with concern at her dress, before being swallowed up again in fevered dancefloor sexiness. Jed breaks from between the girls to tip water over his face. In a moment of erotic inspiration, he undoes his shirt’s remaining buttons, tugs the tails free of his trousers and pours water freely, so that it splashes from his face down over his chest and stomach in a drenching rush. It's pure male stripper and the girls adore it. They squeal and clap and hug him from both sides, trailing fingers over his wet torso as they laugh.

That’s thirty minutes out. By E+45 everyone will be naked.

So what of our erotically scheming protagonist? Where’s his drug-dazed head at right now? The past fifteen minutes have been a confused but dazzling glory. All Hydian heavy-lifting complete, he relinquished his efforts to micro-manage and simply relaxed into the madness, delegating his diabolic work to rave music, chemical enhancers and the teen hormonal rage. The ecstasy’s effects have crept on him as inevitably as on his fresh young prey and he’s put up no resistance, enjoying how Lily’s dress has turned more vividly green, while her skin glistens gold, and how the cream of Clara’s frock contrasts more intensely with her Mediterranean bronze. Their lipstick colours pop, their features seem more pronounced – as if captured by some genius artist’s brush – and their curves whether subtle (Lily) or obvious (Clara) are more striking even than before. Every move, every look, every flick of tousled hair is now charged with erotic energy and meaning.

He’s aware of his own body too now, like his skin is stretched taut over the hard muscle of his arms, his chest, his stomach, each part of him alive and sensitive to touch, some wildly so. Shivers of ecstasy (the feeling, not the drug) rush through him at each playful female touch – the closer to his groin, the more intense that shudder of sensation. He can’t resist self-contact either – tracing beads of sweat on his throat, brushing his pectoral muscles as he dances, letting his fingers sweep over his crotch, that nexus of his being. Whatever else is going on – colour, light and sound, music and laughter, all clashing and whirling and merging in a kaleidoscope of sensory enjoyment – despite all of that, this centre of his being, this reason for this night, this force that will no longer be curtailed is thrusting like forged steel within the confines of his custom-fitted trousers, ready to make its presence felt inside these smiling nubile teens once he’s set it free.

And it’s nearly time.

Their palms upon his chest, youthful bodies pressing close, the experience is all but overwhelming. But this Hyde knows how to savour his pleasures, even when high as fuck.

‘Have some,’ he says, swigging from the bottle and bringing his mouth to Clara’s. She parts her lips instinctively and he descends on hers, flooding her mouth with water. It spills from the corners, trickling down her neck and swelling beads of sweat that roll in rivulets down her cleavage. Lily’s smile to him is tinged with petulance. ‘Where’s mine?’ it says, and he supplies without hesitation, chugging liberally, before directing a fresh mouthful down the bridesmaid’s throat in a lip-locked rush. She splutters and gulps, coughs and recovers, then eyes him coyly as she laps residual wetness from around her mouth.

Clara interrupts such sweet-girl games by drawing her friend into another sweaty danceathon. She snatches the bottle from Jed’s grasp, dribbling the last of its contents over Lily’s upturned face as they whirl and bounce together, then licking up the drips that roll down her bestie’s chin. They laugh, kiss, hug and dance some more to the incessant pounding of the trance rhythms, Lily fanning herself in the still-building heat.

‘So hot…’ she gasps over the music. Gazing down she voices mild dismay that her bridal party dress is staining with the sweat. ‘Aunt Evelyn’ (that’s the Maid of Honour) ‘will be so mad…’

‘Turn around,’ Clara says. ‘Let me help.’ She flicks a sidelong glance to Jed, running her tongue over her lips, as her blondie pal proffers her back and she plucks at the spaghetti strings, teasing two undone. Jed leans against the dresser and observes, loving Clara’s opportunism and her naughtiness. The ties on Lily’s back unravel. The bodice gives, the gown loosens all around. Relief at freedom from its constrictions is stifled by the shock of alarm. The dress slips at front and rear, threatening to expose her slender teenage body, tits and all. She yelps and clutches at the fabric, looking shamefaced to Jed, Clara holding the strings and exhorting her not to worry. ‘You’ll feel better!’ she insists, her smile divinely diabolical.

Hyde is an opportunist too, his mental faculties sharpened by the coke, if spinning from the E. ‘Here,’ he says, shrugging his bedraggled dress-shirt from his shoulders and holding it out with both hands to the hapless Lily, the bowtie spilling to the floor. ‘Wear this.’ She stares at him, confused, while Clara nods encouragement.

‘Put it on,’ her dark friend says, guiding her around and easing the dress away, grinning at Jed in his semi-naked state as he drapes the dampened shirt around Lily’s shoulders. The mirror provides a fleeting glimpse of pert teenage boobs and pale-pink skimpy knickers, before the bridesmaid wriggles her arms inside the shirtsleeves and covers herself. She buttons it, just once, beneath her bosom. Seeing that Jed has taken her dress from Clara and laid it across the dresser chair, she turns smiling, swaddled in the too-big shirt, her modesty – though not her creamy thighs – masked by the dangling tails.

‘Thanks,’ she says meekly, but her pupils are dilating (Jed can see it) as she takes in the details of his bared upper body. She’s forlorn in her awe and when he reaches to her, she hugs him tight like he’s her rescuer – the armour-stripped knight who saved her from her own nakedness. Jed’s cock, never less than granite in the past half-hour, reasserts its hardness in response. Clara’s grin to him – he sees it over Lily’s shoulder – is pure feline mischief. Don’t say I’ve done you no favours, Jed interprets. Then she dances on, insouciantly you might say, eyes directed at the ceiling. Pretend I’m not here. Don’t want to spoil a moment. If I were looking your direction, I’d be winking…

Lily loosens the hug, sliding her palms to linger, tantalised, on Jed’s muscled arms. ‘You’re kind of sweet sometimes. Well almost.’ She looks into his eyes, hesitant like she’s not entirely fooled, but wants to be. Then her eyes drop to his chest and her hands follow, fingertips gliding over the expanse of his pectorals to his breastbone, tufting sweat-dampened hairs, then tracing back just shy of his prickling nipples before descending to map out the taut contours of his stomach. Jed swallows down his inner roar at the drug-boosted tingling sensation and holds her lightly, loving her soft hands as they roam all over him, not merely touching, but exploring, sampling, experiencing.

‘Ohhhhh – God, you’re strong,’ she says, squeezing the muscles of his upper arms and almost crooning her wonder. ‘So powerful…’ She does that lip-biting thing again and struggles to meet his gaze, like she’s remembered what she’s got within her girlish grasp, and it frightens her.

Jed grips her supple waist and looks on her benignly, contemplating all that lies ahead. All his options with this slip of a girl. ‘I like your touch,’ he says, as her fingertips stroke feather-light on his neck.

‘I like your smell,’ she tells him, brushing her cheek against the collar of his shirt.

‘Try it from the source,’ he says, guiding her sweet face to his chest, so that her cheek is pressed against him.

‘Mmmmmm…’ She inhales deep. The rush of air as she expels is hot on his skin. ‘It’s gorgeous.’

In the background, as in the out-of-focus portion of a movie shot, Clara is dancing and flicking her hair, watching all, missing nothing.

‘Sample more fully,’ Jed tells Lily, and when she shows incomprehension, he draws the blade of his tongue along her jawline. She holds her breath; her body’s goose-bump shiver is tangible. ‘Like that,’ he says. She stares at him, in thrall (he imagines) to all her teenage fears and fantasies. Still clutching him, she extends her moist pink tongue and licks his chest – tentatively like a kitten, then more firmly when she knows how much she likes the taste. ‘Mmmm – salty.’ Even then she skates shy of his nipple, like contact there will have too-scary consequences. Don’t press the red button. She’s wise, Jed thinks, supressing all that boils beneath his surface. Keeping it at bay, for however long...

In the background of the shot focus sharpens, as Clara reaches behind, still dancing, and unhooks her dress. She stretches one arm under, behind and up. The action, as she unfastens her zip, is strenuous but smooth. Then she peels the dress away from shoulders and waist and hips, wriggles clean out of it and steps aside, stripped to lacy underwear. Bra and panty set, stockings and suspenders – the works. All in pale yellow, so very fetching. Jed appreciates how it shows off her curvy young form as Lily licks, and he thanks Sweet Holy Fuck that his chary bridesmaid is partnered with such a proactively horny friend.

Yes. Oh sweet Christ, YES.

He draws Lily’s face up with one hand, as Clara pads stealthily around them, observing all the while. ‘You’re so, so pretty,’ he says, and at his words, the besotted bridesmaid puts her mouth on his.

She kisses soft. He kisses firm and deep, tongue invading as he pulls her to himself, hands cradling her head and gripping the small of her back. She clutches his naked upper body in response, holding fast with both hands as he enjoys the taste of her and conquers her tongue’s flailing counter-attack. Her youthful moans resonate in his mouth, her fingers digging involuntarily into his muscular frame as he presses on her the lusty repercussions of being such a bold girl. And in his peripheral vision there’s Clara, stretching arms behind her back once more, this time to unclip her brassiere. Fuck yes, bring it, you hot little bitch…

He breaks the kiss with Lily. She’s panting and hazy. Her hold on him eases and her fingers establish trails over his sweat-beaded skin once more, lips still hovering close to his. He brushes her face, relishing the sense of her surrender, and then a whole new sensation overtakes him. Hands have seized on his ribs from behind and Clara’s tongue, wet and warm, curls against the small of his back, then licks a long, silky trail up the groove of his spine. Shivers too delicious to endure (or close to that) envelope his whole body, swelling his nipples and his cock to painful hardness. And that’s before the teenage vixen’s tits land plump against his back, following her tongue’s course upwards, their pointed peaks grating against the slippery surface of his back.

Fuck! His body is alive, cock on high alert. Clara’s mouth is hot on him. Those cheeky nips of hers channel pure electric sensuality, charging him to capacity. It’s Lily in his grasp though, and she’s the one he’s more inclined to fuck – because she’s nearest. She registers the change in him, her eyes and mouth both widening, like she feels the imminence of her own ravishment. But Jed reins in all primal instinct once again, drawing in lungsful of air to dissipate the onrush of his lust and thus riding the moment. It’s not Jekyll-Jed intervening, mind, don’t think that for a second. His Hyde-side – all-consuming since that crucial mirror stand-off – is revelling in Clara’s intervention and wants to roll with it some more. The Devil’s in the detail, right?

The more openly playful teen slides fingers around him, searching over his chest, rumpling the light but matted hair they find there, while her novice playmate stares. Where Jed might have expected to see resurging jealousy, he finds only fascination – of an increasingly horny kind. Lily sets her fingers close to her friend’s and follows them, with her gaze as well as her hands, as they range all over Jed’s pectoral landscape – slowly, inexorably limiting their focus to his nipples.

Clara dares to linger where Lily did not, locating and rotating on those blood-pumped hubs of his arousal, Lily’s fingertips fluttering on the outskirts. Clara’s own blood-pumped hubs are teasing his shoulder blades, while her full lips caress his neck. ‘Exquisite’ goes say halfway to describing his body’s full reaction. Lily fixates on her friend’s circling fingers, that and whatever aching contortion she witnesses on Jed’s face. Then her staring finally turns to daring. What does happen when you press the red button? Jed can read the thought – it accompanies her preparatory intake of breath and the extension of her tongue to lick first one nipple, then the other. The flexing tip flicks about each peak, darting between Clara’s fingers until they withdraw, allowing her fellow-tease’s tongue full access.

Lily laps and flickers and then she kisses fully, alternating her wet-mouthed favours right and left. Nor does Clara take time out. Her hands now dive over Jed’s stomach and his belt line and on down, the diagonal paths intersecting over his trouser crotch. Her palms smooth out the fabric, pulling it tight against the rampant tumescence beneath. ‘Oh fuck,’ she breaths at her discovery, her mouth pressed to the skin of his back. One finger traces the line of his bulging zipper, from tip to bottom. Jed groans deep and reaches back. One hand he keeps fastened on Lily, the other searches for Clara and lands upon the firmness of her ass, clad as it is in silk panties. He grips, while she delineates the outline of his erection with one delicately stroking finger.

Jed endures the simultaneous teasing of his nipples and his cock a full seventeen seconds. (You could time it with a stopwatch, were you there.) When he abandons his restraint, he does so utterly, radically and with heart-pounding elation. Lily he seizes by the hair, pulling her free of his chest. He grabs Clara by the elbow, having broken her taunting hold, and propels her stumbling to her comrade’s side. Both girls are gasping and shrieking – Lily in shock, Clara with pure exhileration.

Lily stares at her friend’s joggling tits as the two girls bump together. With all that solo showering after girls’ PE, is this the first time she’s seen them exposed? Her goggling expression suggests as much. Well, little girl, check THIS shit out. Jed slaps a hand to one of Clara’s ample, tan globes and squeezes. ‘God, you naughty bitch,’ he snarls, before pulling the self-styled cock-tease to himself and kissing her hard. The hunger with which her mouth counter-attacks – tongue lashing greedily against his – is nothing short of thrilling. He has a good old sexy grapple with the proud young slut, as they feed greedily on each other. Jed mauls Clara’s luscious tit for the duration, while she stays likewise clamped to his trapezius and bicep muscles, like she wants Lily to see how a man should be enjoyed.

Speaking of Lily, her horny-startled voyeurism as Jed and Clara break apart is almost as exciting as the furious make-out session. The lip-nibbling girl is visibly out of her depth once more, yet unmistakably loving the water; Jed and his cock finds her inner clash of panic and arousal massively appealing. Clara clearly feels the same. ‘What’s the matter, sweet?’ she says, slipping loving arms around her dazed friend from behind and kissing the girl’s neck with an erotic tenderness that makes Lily's eyes roll. ‘Never seen someone get her boobs groped before? Huh?’ Lily groans incoherently, her gaze resting on Jed as she leans back into the caress. Clara’s fingers scuttle to find the single attached button on the borrowed dress shirt. ‘Oh babes, you’re way overdressed…’

The twist of Clara’s lips as she looks at Jed says, ‘Shall I?’

His smile in response says, ‘Do it.’

Lily – bless her – realises a split-second before it happens. Clara nimbly unfastens her friend’s one link to modesty and then she rips the shirt clean off Lily’s body, leaving her in pretty pink panties – significantly darker at the crotch – and fuck all else.

‘Let Mr Jed see what you’ve got, girl!’

Lily gasps her shock. Jed feasts his eyes upon that slender frame and that taut little tummy and those pert rose-nippled tits newly exposed. He likes what she’s got, a whole damn lot.

‘Christ,’ he says, salivating like a wolf about to feed, ‘I fucking love this party. Come here.’ He gathers up the all-but-naked Lily and seals his lips on hers, tongue-fucking her soft mouth. Her moans are urgent, if muffled, and she clasps his body hard like it’s the only piece of clothing she can fine. He plants kisses on her jaw, her neck, her throat, working down to her breasts as she yelps her scared elation. When his mouth finds her areola and attaches, she lets loose a wild breathless keening sound like she’s cumming already in her knickers. He sucks her with sensual but ravenous fervour, one hand clutching her boob to accentuate her nipple, the fingers of the other pressing into her smooth back, revelling in the capitulation of both her body and her mind, and in all her fleshly delights.

Clara is stroking Lily’s face, cuddling up and feeding off her friend’s new, scared excitement. ‘Suck her other tit,’ Jed tells her in a momentary break. With no hint of hesitation Clara plants her mouth on the nipple going spare and applies firm, wet suction. Lily gulps air, then expels it in a broken moan – ‘Oh fuck, oh god, oh, oh, oh, fuck!’ – as old friend and horny stranger suckle on her helpless teenage tits. Not that she’d want help if it came – her wails are far too soaked in ecstasy (the feeling, not the drug) for that.

When Jed and the hungry Clara release her modest but supremely hot mounds, Lily is flush-faced and breathing hard, eyes welling like she’s just ODed on romcom finales. ‘Oh God…’ she mouths to Clara, and when her best friend takes her face gently in her hands and kisses her, she kisses back like what else would she do? Turned on beyond all reason, Jed takes his turn to kiss and she responds again in kind, clutching at Clara like she’s in love with the both of them – or maybe just with sex. Then Jed kisses Clara, more softly than before, aware of Lily’s eyes on them both – watching, wondering, learning.

He draws the girls’ soft and pretty heads together and alternates kisses between them until their three mouths meet… The thirty-something teacher and the two girls who could so easily have been his students – smooching, licking, thrusting and squirming in a warm, wet triple-tongue sandwich. Swapping spit, strands of wetness linking their lips and dribbling down their chins. Depravity Boulevard, was it? Depravity Station? Consign both to the inadequate metaphor scrapheap. We’re at the Grand fucking Debauchery Canyon and Jed’s just leapt off the verge, taking these teenage beauties with him. They’re in freefall and the only way is down.

Everyone fucks everyone tonight, Jed thinks, tongue still tangling with his wanton brace of bitches, nakedness squishing from both sides as his cock throbs to be unleashed. Everyone fucks, every which way they can - and then some. Get ready, girls, ‘cos here we fucking go…

TO BE CONTINUED