**Katie's Night**

Katie had been fighting with her boyfriend again. Same old cycle—late-night arguments, accusations flying, apologies that never quite landed. It was exhausting. So when Nikki texted her at 9:30 asking if she wanted to crash Mike's house party in Sacramento, Katie didn't even think twice.

"Fuck it. I'm in."

They swung by the liquor store on the way. Nikki—blonde, skinny, huge ass squeezed into a tiny black skirt—grabbed a case of PBR. Katie, in her low-rise studded jeans, ripped MCR tee, chipped black polish, and Converse, tossed in two tall cans of Four Loko and a pack of Swishers. They passed a blunt back and forth on the drive, windows down, bass thumping through Nikki's shitty speakers.

Mike's place was a big, older ranch-style house tucked in a quiet corner of South Sac—perfect for a party that could get loud without neighbors calling the cops too early. When they walked in, the living room was already hazy with smoke, early-2000s rap shaking the walls. Mike stood in the kitchen like he owned it (because he did): 35, muscular, tan skin, tight black tee, goatee sharp. His crew—Tony, Nick, and a couple others—all mid-30s, beers in hand, laughing too loud.

Katie felt the eyes on her the moment she stepped inside. She liked the attention.

The night blurred fast. Shots. Blunts. More shots. Katie and Nikki ended up on the sagging leather couch, thighs pressed together, giggling about nothing. Then Nikki leaned in, glossy lips brushing Katie's, and they were making out—slow at first, then deep and messy. Hands sliding under shirts, fingers teasing pierced nipples through thin fabric. The room noticed. Phones came out. No one said a thing.

Katie pulled back just enough to whisper, "We should get spanked."

Nikki's eyes sparkled. "Hell yes."

They stumbled into the kitchen laughing, bending over the counter like they'd planned it. Asses up, jeans tight. Mike raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You girls sure?"

"Do it," Katie said, voice bratty and slurred.

Mike went first—hard, deliberate smack that made Katie yelp then moan. Tony next. Then Nick. They took turns, each trying to hit harder than the last. The slaps got louder, sharper. Katie's skin burned, the sting sinking straight between her legs.

After a dozen or so, Katie reached back and yanked her jeans and thong down in one go. Nikki followed. Two perfect, reddened asses on display, handprints already blooming bright. The guys let out low whistles, appreciative curses.

"Fuckin' hell," Tony muttered.

More spanking. Harder now. Bare flesh cracking under open palms. Katie was dripping—she could feel it running down her thighs. Every impact sent a fresh pulse through her clit. Breathing hard, forehead pressed to the cool counter.

Then she did it.

She dragged her thong the rest of the way down to her knees. Completely exposed. Ass red, pussy glistening under the kitchen light. The room went quiet for half a second before flip phones snapped open—old Razrs and Samsungs clicking away.

Mike stepped closer, voice low. "Spread 'em, baby."

Katie reached back with both hands, grabbed her cheeks, and pulled herself open. Cool air hit her wet folds. Another flash. Someone groaned.

They kept spanking. But now hands lingered. Rough palms sliding between her thighs, brushing her clit, dipping just inside. Nikki was getting the same. Both girls whimpering, drunk on liquor and attention.

Eventually the mood shifted. Pants got pulled back up. More drinks. More smoke. The party rolled on.

By 3 a.m. the house had cleared out. Just Katie, Nikki, and Mike left.

He jerked his head toward the hallway. "C'mon. My room's quieter."

They followed.

Clothes came off in the dark. Katie's studded belt clinked to the floor. Nikki's skirt. Mike's shirt. Then everything else.

The bed was big. They piled in naked, skin still warm from booze and earlier hands. Katie and Nikki kissed over Mike's chest—lazy, filthy kisses—while their fingers found his cock. Thick. Heavy. Already leaking. They stroked him together, giggling when he groaned.

Then mouths.

They took turns, then worked him together—tongues sliding, lips meeting around the head. Mike's fingers found both their cunts, thick digits curling inside, thumbs on clits. Katie was soaked, embarrassingly so. Nikki wasn't far behind.

Katie broke first.

She swung a leg over him, straddling his hips. "I want it," she breathed.

Mike held himself steady. Katie lined up, then sank down—slow.

The stretch was immediate and obscene.

"Oh… fuck."

She'd never felt anything like it. Thick enough to make her eyes water, long enough to press places no one else had reached. She paused halfway, panting, then forced herself down until her ass met his thighs.

Mike's hands gripped her hips. Hard.

"Jesus, you're tight."

Katie started moving—small rolls at first, then deeper, hungrier. Nikki watched, fingers between her own legs, then leaned in to kiss Katie while she rode.

Katie kept going—faster, harder, more desperate. Her hips rocked in tight, filthy circles, then snapped forward in quick, punishing thrusts. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, louder than Mike's low groans.

"Fuck—Katie, slow down," he rasped, hands trying to hold her hips still. "Gonna—shit, you’re gonna make me—"

She didn't slow down.

She went harder.

Blonde hair swinging, pierced nipples hard against the cool air, Katie rode him like she wanted to break him. Every grind dragged a broken sound out of him. Nikki watched, eyes dark and hungry.

Mike's protests turned to curses, then choked moans. His abs flexed, thighs tensing. He tried to lift her once—tried to buy a few more seconds—but Katie planted her palms on his chest and pushed down harder, taking every inch.

"Goddamn it—Katie—"

His whole body locked up.

A deep, guttural groan ripped out of him as he came, hips jerking up to bury himself deep. Hot, thick spurts flooded her pussy, pulse after pulse, filling her until she could feel the warmth leaking out around where they were joined. Katie gasped at the sudden heat, the way it pushed her even closer to her own edge. She kept rocking—smaller, greedier movements now—milking him, drawing out every drop while he shuddered beneath her.

Mike's head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded.

"Jesus… fuck," he panted, voice wrecked. "You didn't even let me breathe."

Katie smirked down at him, still seated fully, feeling him soften slowly inside her while his cum dripped down her thighs.

She leaned forward, lips brushing his ear.

"Good," she whispered. "I wanted to feel it all."

Nikki let out a soft, needy laugh beside them, already crawling closer.

The night was far from over.