2.0

Sweat drips steadily from his brow, his intensity gradually swelling. His chest contracts intermittently as he continues up and down with growing urgency. You watch his biceps tense, highlighting seemingly impossible muscular definition. As the music surges, you feel the deep bass of his kick drum increase your heartbeat, longing to match the tempo. The crescendo of one of your favorite indie tracks feels almost magical with the addition of the drummer, Alec's, passionate performance. You can't help but imagine him backing you up against a wall backstage, his long hair sliding across his face to cover one eye as he does so. You shake your head to clear the thought, surrounded by several of your friends and peers at the show. You had been so excited that the band had come to play at a venue so close to home.

An erupting finale to the group's second encore comes to a satisfying halt, and they thank the crowd, taking a bow with their arms interlinked. Alec shoots a last charming smile at the crowd and waves before lobbing his drumsticks into the air to a lucky audience member. Your heart melts as the band walks off the stage, and you realize it'll likely be the last time you ever get to lay eyes on them in person. Alec's incredible performance is already playing back in your mind, along with the thought of his hands gripping yours as you lay flat on your back, as he-

"Yo, I bet we could make it backstage if we go right now." Your friend Monica is peering over the crowd at the front of the pit as they begin to trickle out towards the exits. Excited yet horrified, you see she was right. The numerous security staff that had been watching the crowd intently had already departed from their posts. None of the venue staff could be seen near the pit at all, and were preoccupied escorting guests in the higher seats up and out of the stadium. Monica had always been far more of a risk taker than you, and you were generally against these sorts of ploys. However, the thought of even glimpsing the percussionist's frame from a cracked dressing room door made your heart flutter. You glance again towards the stage and back at Monica's expectant stare. There was little time for consideration.

"Come on come on come on!" Monica grabs your wrist gently, waiting for confirmation before embarking on the risky trip. You roll your eyes and smile as you give in to her grasp on your wrist, stumbling slightly forward as Monica begins to deftly slide between exiting fans passing you in the opposite direction. You wade through the chattering crowd, intently discussing the band's performance. You hear one young girl talking about the children she would have with the lead singer, Mitchell.

Reaching the edge of the pit, it was time to make the critical maneuver of crossing the fence. Monica hops over it fearlessly, her lithe frame seemingly gliding across it. You try to follow suit, unable to resist taking a nervous glance around you. The staff had not yet returned, and it seemed the coast was clear. Monica scurries up the several stairs up the side of the stage and darts behind the curtain. Taking a deep breath, you duck down and follow her as quickly and stealthily as possible.

The curtain whips behind you and you nearly knock over Monica waiting on the other side. She yelps before quickly covering her mouth in horror. You hear footsteps down the hall backstage as you both quietly listen around the corner.

"Fucking great set, mate. Your last solo was bloody brilliant." You instantly recognize Mitchell's voice from interviews you'd watched weeks prior. It was surreal to hear it in person so casually rather than behind the mic. You see Monica's eyes widen at the realization of hearing her favorite member's voice. You share a knowing look of glee as she dares to take a tiny peek around the corner before shrinking back toward you.

"Oh my god, they're all right there" she squealed under her breath.

"What do we do?" you ask, overwhelmed.

"I don't know, like, they bring girls with them to afterparties all the time, right?" You weren't confident that trespassing was the ticket to an afterparty and begin to ponder for a moment, before remembering the several dozen roadies helping to set up the band's gear prior to the show.

"What if we were roadies?" You whisper.

"What?" Monica hisses back, still intently listening to the casual chitchat of the band around the corner.

"Roadies. The guys who were setting up before?" You reply. Monica understands suddenly, and her eyes light up. She gestures behind you, where you spot two walkie talkies sitting on a shelf. You reach over to grab them, handing Monica the other. You quickly clip them onto your waists before locking eyes again.

"Fuck, now what?" Monica says apprehensively. You knew a walkie talkie wasn't the most convincing disguise. However, your heart already racing in anticipation, you knew you had to act before the moment passed. You became overwhelmed with the infinite possibilities of the interaction that lie ahead. Would they recognize you were out of place immediately, or welcome you into the group with open arms? You hear the unmistakable clink of a lighter flicking open, followed by the thick scent of weed smoke filling your nostrils. Monica must have had an epiphany after sensing this new development, because she alarmingly grabs onto your wrist and begins to walk purposefully around the corner. Your heart races, knowing you had to follow her. You keep her pace, unable to even fathom looking up at the quickly narrowing distance between yourselves and the band. Monica breaks your adrenaline-fueled trance,

"Did you tie up the cables stage left?" She said with unfathomable confidence. Glancing up at her, your heart leaps as you see Alec glance in your direction at the sound of Monica's voice.

"Uhhhm. Uh huh. Yes." You stutter, unable to acquire anything near the convincing air of your friend's voice. You allow your gaze to briefly shift to Mitchell, who was leaning back against the wall casually, taking a hit off a sizable joint. You barely resist jumping obviously as Monica squeezes your upper thigh and shooting you a pointed glance for your poor performance. You're hit with a wave of indignation and are determined to redeem yourself, an inexplicable wave of conviction coming over you. As you approach the four band members standing in a circle, you make eye contact with Mitchell as you halt your supposed path to continue packing out the equipment.

"Do you think I could hit that?" You say, allowing your face to soften warmly, hoping you come off as endearing as possible. He meets your eyes skeptically, cocking his head to one side, flicking his straight blonde hair out of his face.

"Come on now, you know roadies can't be getting high on the job," he says, glancing down at the walkie talkies on your hips. You're amazed that your plan had worked. You just needed to make sure you weren't spotted by any of the others. Monica picked up the momentary silence without skipping a beat.

"Aw, you can't make just a tiny exception for us?" She pouted, and you were amazed to see the lead's face soften almost instantly. Pride surged through you as you witness Monica charm her biggest celebrity crush in seconds. You watch the other three members glance at him, at the two of you, and back at him again. Their knowing looks told you this wasn't their first rodeo. Mitchell sighed, smiling up at the ceiling, and says with mock disdain,

"Well, might as well step out to the roof for a moment, d'you reckon?" He stares back at the two of you expectantly. The two of you can feel one another refraining from exhibiting any signs of celebration at your unbelievable luck. You both nod silently, praying you didn't betray your excitement. The other three members seemed to exchange knowing glances with one another and avert their gaze from Mitchell, who had already begun jaunting to the other end of the hallway toward an elevator.

You sneak a glance at Alec and your heart drops into your feet as you realize he was already looking at you. His eyes quickly lock with yours and you suspect he was scanning your body up and down. You suddenly wish you had been wearing something more captivating than the jeans and crop top you chose for the concert. You hastily avert his gaze and follow Monica who was already happily following Mitchell down the hallway, subtly adjusting the walkie talkie on her hip. Mitchell passes her the joint as he calls the elevator, which she eyes carefully before raising it to her lips and taking a long drag, likely wishing to calm her nerves before their rooftop encounter with Mitchell.

The elevator doors slide open, and and the three of you enter with you between Mitchell and Monica. Monica promptly fills the cabin with a sizable cloud of smoke from another pull from the joint as the doors shut. She passes it to you, whispering in your ear

"It's really strong." You gingerly grasp the filter between two fingers, putting it to your lips and inhaling more intensely than you normally would, thinking that some mild mind-alteration could aid in such a bizarre scenario. The pungent scent of the flower fills your nose, and as an intense flavor fills your mouth you wish you had more carefully heeded Monica's warning. Committed to an enthusiastic hit, you fill your lungs with the smoke before reaching the point of no return and letting out a thick cough, a plume of smoking exiting your mouth with it. You clumsily attempt to hand the joint back to Mitchell, your eyes squeezed shut as you attempt to stifle any further coughs. As you straighten back up you feel a hand on the small of your back.

"God, it can't be the roadie's first time smoking?" You look up into Mitchell's face as he looks down at you with equal parts concern and endearment. Your face flushes.

"No," you **** out insistently, before failing to halt a subsequent barrage of coughs. He chuckles, sensing that he'd insulted you.

"Well go on then, get another hit in before we get up there." He hands you the joint back, and you seriously weigh the risks of taking another hit. Your head is still spinning from the first. However, feeling Monica's intense stare from the other side of the elevator, you take the joint, unwilling to risk a shift in dynamic. You inhale with care this time but are met once more with the unexpectedly concentrated smoke. You pull substantially less smoke into your lungs than before as the elevator doors reopen, revealing a vast night sky crowning the perimeter of the roof access. The thick summer air wafts into the cabin as Monica steps out first onto the gravel. You make eye contact with the frontman once more to pass him back the joint and he smiles down at you with bloodshot eyes as he takes it back, the pair of you stepping out together.

"So, how long have the two of you been along for the ride?" He asked conversationally, gently tapping ash off the end of the joint. You quickly glance at Monica, praying that she'll answer with her seemingly endless supply of convincingness.

"Oh, we just got picked up a couple weeks back." Monica replies. Mitchell's eyebrows raise.

"Ah, fresh blood," he says knowingly, before continuing inquisitively,

"So, who'd you fuck?" You had been waiting for this question, aware of the harsh reality of the women picked up along tours. Your suspicions of the common induction process for these roadies were confirmed, and you now regret not briefing Monica on this particular subtlety. You wonder if she'll feel uncomfortable claiming to have slept with a member of the band outside of the present company. Mitchell was looking at you pointedly, seemingly more interested in you after your brief exchange in the elevator. Barely thinking, you blurt out,

"Alec."

"Ah, you did seem like his type, I know them when I see them these days." He chuckles as your mind begins racing. You wonder suddenly if his eyes on you in the hallway had been more than routine. You manage a light laugh along with him before he turns to Monica.

"And you then?" He asks. Monica seems to finish a complex mental calculation before reaching a decision and says

"Um... You." You fail to keep your mouth from dropping open slightly, and you hope the darkness concealed it as you close it after a moment. What could possibly be her angle here? Mitchell does a double take before squinting at her quizzically.

"I'll be damned, are you serious?" He asks, bewildered. You're amazed that he's even considering her claim without a hint of skepticism. Monica runs with her moment.

"It had been a pretty long night, you did maybe seem a bit out of it a few times." She says solemnly, a sly smile topping off her lie. Mitchell seems to take a moment to consider the possibility, and apparently accepts it wholeheartedly.

"My sincerest apologies for my lapse in memory. How I could've forgotten a night with you is a mystery," he recovers smoothly, his eyes gliding overtly from Monica's face down to the shirt tightened around her full chest as he takes another drag off the joint. Monica giggles hopelessly at his compliment for a few moments before collecting herself, at which the singer smiles broadly. His eyes seem to light up with an opportune idea.

"Reckon we could play a game to pass the time up here yeah?" Before either of you could say anything he was inching closer to the two of you, his legs crossed.

"Are you ladies familiar with flip sip or strip?" He lowers his voice wickedly,

"It's become a bit of a band favorite," He continues, producing a coin from his pocket without waiting for an answer.

"So, on your turn you flip the coin. If you call it, it moves to your left. If not, you'll either take a hit or strip something off. Simple enough?" He asks. You were starting to get a bit nervous, knowing Monica would be ecstatic at the idea of seeing Mitchell remove any amount of clothing. You were already feeling quite high from the hits you took in the elevator, and knew that it wouldn't take much more before you would start to get anxious. You wish Alec had been holding the joint in the hallway, as you'd be far more interested in seeing him peel his clothes off on the roof.

"Ladies first," he says with a smile, passing the coin to Monica. She glances as you, her face filled with glee as she flips the coin and slaps it sharply onto the back of her hand.

"Heads." She says confidently. She removes her hand to reveal- heads. She laughs,

"Phew." You notice her eyes drooping slightly as she passes the coin to you. You wonder if she had smoked even more than you. You stare down at the coin before flipping it, calling tails before it even returns. You remove your other hand to show- heads. Monica cackles,

"Sooo which will it be?" She asks, thoroughly caught up in the scandalous situation.

"I dunno, she's looking a bit baked already." Said Mitchell, thumbing the joint softly in his hand. You sigh before sliding your shoes off your feet, passing the coin to him.

"Mmm nice try. Around here, we play shoes and socks as one turn." You stare back at him, failing to hide the look of bewilderment in your eyes.

"Sorry girlie, house rules." He shrugs, clearly enjoying his ultimate authority over the unfolding scenario. You look back at Monica who was practically vibrating to your right, unable to take her attention off of the star. You know you won't be getting any backup from her, and peel your socks off dejectedly. You spread your toes in the cool gravel as you place your feet back down. You remember in horror that you weren't wearing a bra. You wouldn't be able to fail another call before getting far more stoned or showing a lot more skin. Perhaps it was the strain you had smoked or the enchanting nighttime air, but the idea excites you a bit more than it should. You look over to Mitchell, your eyes taking him in closer than before, watching his solid forearms prepare to flick the coin into the air.

"Tails." He calls. It was heads for the third time in a row. To your amazement, he wastes no time in peeling his shirt up over his head. Your can't help but wander your gaze across the deep contours of bone and muscle across his hairless skin before examining a large, detailed tattoo of a tiger's head on his upper chest. He sheened slightly as his body caught the moonlight in just the right way, the sweat from their nearly three hour set still visible.

"Somebody's gotta show some balls up here, eh?" He says, taking a deep breath and fixing his hair briefly. You're slightly annoyed by his comment. Did he expect you to take your shirt off first? He passes the coin to Monica, breaking her out of a trance as she was lost admiring his exposed skin much less subtly than you did. He pretends not to notice as she tosses the coin into the air, failing to catch it on the way down.

"Whoopsie!" She lets out a high pitched, girlish giggle you'd never heard her produce before. This was getting more out of control by the minute. She flipped it again, catching it clumsily this time before calling

"Heads!" It was tails. You hold you hand out for the coin without looking over, expecting her to reach for the joint. But then you hear a sudden unzip. You turn to see Monica unbuttoning her jeans. You watch in horror and intrigue as she stands up, eyes locked with Mitchell. His eyes widen as he leans back to take in Monica's tall, full body. She unbuckles and slides her thin belt carefully through each loop, her hips raunchily gliding from side to side. Clearly enjoying the reveal of every inch of her smooth, tanned thighs, she carefully tugs the tight jeans down over her wide hips.

You find yourself transfixed by her mock striptease, tilting your head imperceptibly back to sneak a glance at her bare ass, tight and athletic, swaying rhythmically back and forth. You had seen your friend's body while changing before, but had never been treated to this kind of display. You cross your legs instinctively and slightly shake your head. Monica was doing this for Mitchell, not for you, and you felt embarrassed having these kinds of thoughts about her. Her modesty was now protected only by black underwear barely more substantial than a thong, and you vaguely wonder if she had planned for this insane possibility earlier in the evening. Her jeans softly hit the ground after reaching her knees and she steps out of them, giggling again and taking a seat back on the gravel. She pulls her legs up to her chest to avoid showing off too much, then passes the coin over to you.

You decided you could probably handle one more hit from the joint before reaching a hard stopping point. You felt as though you were still on the comeup from the first two, your mouth already brutally dry and your head beginning to spin pleasantly. You flip the coin, your heart racing again, and call tails. It comes up- heads. You'd not had such bad luck in your life, and it seemed it was going to be a very long night.

Your tosses thankfully improved over the subsequent rounds after taking another small hit, avoiding removing any further articles of clothing. You couldn't say the same for Monica. She had taken another hit, as well as removing her shoes, socks, and shirt. Mitchell, now displaying bare feet and certainly more stoned, was left only in his black track pants, through which you thought you spotted a slight bulge after Monica slid her shirt over her head. He was now openly eyeing her voluminous cleavage encased by a sheer black bralette. You couldn't judge him too harshly, having taken several brief looks at both his and your friend's chest yourself, increasing in frequency as your high intensified.

You had expected to be interrupted by a staff or band member long ago, but it seemed fate had other plans for this encounter. You were becoming increasingly more aroused by the growing tension between the three of you, despite your previous disinterest in Mitchell, but it was your friend's expert flirtatiousness with him that had you the most excited. She sat now with her long legs crossed in front of her, abandoning previous efforts to block view of the thin strip of fabric between her legs. You catch yourself wondering if she had begun to get wet from the intense chemistry with her idol. You're pulled back to reality by Mitchell's sharp voice,

"Oi! It's your go." He said, and you realize Monica had been holding her palm out with the coin. You had a sinking feeling that your luck had run out, and you're filled with dread as you remove your hand from the toss. You had called it incorrectly. In unison, Monica and Mitchell let out a low

"Oooooh...."

Getting a bit more high still seemed favorable to removing your shirt or pants. You look up at the singer to reach for the joint, before seeing it had burned out.

"Uh oh. It seems we may need to modify the rules a bit ladies," he says, not missing a beat as he drops the cashed joint onto the gravel.

"Maybe we could have a new option?" Monica chirps, her excitement renewed at the idea of an even more explicit stage of the game. Though the two of you were close, you had been repeatedly amazed by her shamelessness since the three of you had come onto the rooftop. How far was she really willing to go, right here? Mitchell looked up in thought, considering the proposal.

"How about this. You either strip, or the person with the next turn gives you a task you must complete." He says, and you get the feeling this wasn't the first time he'd implemented this rule. You're tasked with a very tough decision. You wonder just how humiliating his task would be, and once more weigh the cost of undressing further. You were relatively confident that he was far more interested in Monica than you at this point, and felt it was a safe bet that he wouldn't command you to do anything with him, yet. You say softly,

"The task then, I guess." His eyes light up, again cast into thought, crafting the appropriate first task to assign to you. Your friend looks at you with concern for the first time, perhaps worried that you would get to come onto him before she did. You try to give her a reassuring look, and hope it communicates some semblance of your strategic thinking. He finally says,

"I want you to make out with her for 30 seconds," gesturing at Monica. Your heart sinks. There was no way Monica would be comfortable with this development. You're hit with a pang of guilt for volunteering for such a request. You turn to your friend slowly, terrified of what expression you'd find on her face. Inexplicably, it's one of fiery passion. You're shocked, wondering if this was her clearly waning inhibitions, or something more. Before you can decide, Monica reaches for your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

Your mouth contorts quickly to match hers, your head tilting to the side. Getting over the initial shock, you feel her bite your lip playfully, and in your thoroughly blitzed state you can't help but giggle clumsily against her face. She takes the opportunity to slip her tongue inside your mouth, and you shiver, swept up by her confidence, planting a hand onto the gravel to steady yourself from her powerful advance. You allow your other hand to rest on her bare midriff, feeling her quickening breaths as she continues to explore your mouth. She grabs your hand immediately and pulls it up to her chest. You almost break the kiss in surprise, but she pulls you in tighter, her tongue finally exiting between your teeth.

"Wow, looks like this isn't your first time at this," Mitchell says in awe. You feel that you owe all of the praise to Monica. Your hand gingerly grips one of her breasts, unable to reach around it entirely with one hand. She moans at your touch, and, feeling encouraged, begin to gently massage, sliding your thumb over her nipple through the lacy fabric. Her long nails slide through your hair and against your scalp intoxicatingly and you feel yourself lean into the kiss, now reaching up to hold her cheek. You bite her upper lip now, the initial discomfort melting away as you lock lips with fervor. Having totally forgotten about the 30 seconds, you're surprised to finally hear Mitchell speak up,

"Er- full disclosure I have not been counting, but I think your time's up." Monica pulls away, red in the face and panting, a strand of saliva stretching from your mouth to hers before snapping. You aren't totally comprehending what just happened, but you feel that you deeply enjoyed it. You absentmindedly hand the coin to Mitchell, never looking away from Monica, who had already begun putting her hair up clinically, catching her breath to focus on his turn.

Mitchell deftly flips the coin into the air despite having smoked at least twice as much as you. As you follow the coin down it's arc, your eye is instantly caught below his waist, where his track pants have become stretched to their limits following your lengthy kiss. You're sure Monica has already noticed, and look over to see her unblinkingly gazing at his crotch. He calls it- correctly, and smugly hands the coin over to Monica, who was wiser this time to stop ogling at him before his turn had ended. Monica takes a breath as her eyes flutter, not fully recovered from the makeout session. She limply flings the coin into the air and barely snags it on it's way down. She calls tails- and it's heads.

Left only in a bra and panties, Monica has a very important decision to make. You wonder if your own presence even factors into her comfort with getting naked on the rooftop, and if she was truly wishing to expose herself so intimately to her parasocial love. A strong summer breeze blows over the quiet rooftop, the bustling traffic below louder in the silence of Monica's careful consideration. She blankly drags a finger up the inside of her leg as she comes to a decision,

"I want a task." She had called to you for an idea even more alluring than revealing herself to Mitchell. You had to think of something good, and quickly. You didn't want her to do anything you weren't positive she would be comfortable with, and also didn't want to say anything Mitchell wouldn't approve of. After a frantic moment of consideration, you say

"Give him a hickey." You can't help but laugh at your own answer, confident that it was perfect. Monica immediately begins to crawl toward the musician. Put on his back foot for the first time all night, he turns to you intently for a moment before his face softens, and he suddenly allows himself to collapse onto the gravel, facing up at the night sky in anticipation of Monica's approach. You can't help but notice his pants still bulging as she reaches him, fearlessly hitching one leg across his laying body. She begins sucking just below his tattoo, and he winces slightly at the tight skin being assaulted by her mouth. Her hand reaches dangerously low, coming to rest at his belt line, at which you see his hips twitch at involuntarily. She dares to inch her fingers across his stomach, shifting her weight upward and now beginning to suck on his neck.

"Woah, we only agreed on-" He can't finish his sentence as Monica wraps her hand tightly around his erection through the track pants, sliding her clenched fist as far down it's length as she can go. And right on cue, she abruptly releases him entirely and shuffles back to her spot in the circle. Mitchell's chest pulsates up and down as he recovers from her advances.

"Your turn!" Monica says cheerily, as if she hadn't just violated the object of her years-long obsession. She hands you the coin, which you call- incorrectly. You look over at Mitchell's overwhelmed state and don't anymore trust his focus on Monica with the depth of his desperation after just being denied release so blatantly. You realize you couldn't keep yourself covered for any longer, and remain seated as you unzip your jeans and slide them down around your ankles. This prompts Mitchell to finally lift his head and open his eyes to gaze in your direction. You feel his eyes slide up your bare legs. Drawing your knees to your chest as Monica had, you pass him the coin, refusing to make eye contact after the visual ****.

He flips, and calls it- wrong, completing a full rotation of incorrect guesses. The end was surely near. He instantly locks eyes with Monica, knowing to ask for a task would be a weak play after their last interaction. He holds her gaze as he slides his pants down his legs, and you realize incredulously-

He wasn't wearing underwear. An unexpected twist, perfectly timed. He flicks her the coin, with his eyes still glued to hers, his totally naked body sitting utterly still as he anticipates her turn. She calls correctly without batting an eye, seemingly in intense mental conflict with her unachievable man. You take the coin quickly, captivated by the exchange, and call- wrong again. The choice was easy this time.

"Task." You say.

"Eat her out." He says instantly. Monica's eyes widen slightly.

"But.... I still have my panties on." She says indignantly. But you'd already begun to slide over to her, choosing not to acknowledge that you were about to present your ass to Mitchell as you did so. You look into her eyes, and she pauses for a moment before nodding in resignation and stretching backward onto her hands in preparation. You move the thin fabric to the side and gently lower your tongue flattened across her opening. She inhales sharply as you slide up to her clit and begin to lap at it softly, and you feel her nails across your scalp once more as she pushes your head down slightly. You grab her thigh in protest and flick her clit repeatedly with the tip of your tongue before beginning to suck gently. She moans in ecstasy, grabbing one of her own breasts. You know she was staring intently at him as you did this, and it turned you on even more.

You heard gravel shuffle behind you, and you slowed your careful pleasuring of Monica. You dared to glance behind you to see Mitchell approaching the two of you with his erection in hand, stroking it measuredly. You looked up at Monica just in time to see a seductive smile spread across her face, before she lifts a finger to beckon him, biting her lip.

He stands over you as you continue to eat Monica out, his legs on either side of you. You hear him moan, and a loud pop as he slips his cock in and out of her mouth. Her hand continues toying with your hair as she gives him head, moaning into his cock in response to your tongue. You hear her gag slightly, and look up to see both of his hands on her head, thrusting with just enough **** to have made her eyes begin to water.

"Fuck..." He exhales gently. Monica moans louder, entirely taken by the moment.

"Yeah, just like that. Take it." He growls above you. Her nails dig into your shoulder, and you assume that he was close. You lick her clit as fast as you can, sliding a hand up onto her waist. You can hear him finishing inside her mouth as she intently strokes his cock with her other hand. He slides out of her mouth after a moment, and you hear her spit and wipe her mouth, before lifting your head from between her legs and crawling forward, lifting your chin up with her index finger. As you sit up, she pushes you onto your back and grabs your hips, whisking your panties down your legs before you can even think of protesting.

You look up at the night sky and gasp as Monica's tongue glides between your legs, your whole body tensing instantly. Your legs extend out in front of you, squirming slightly as you become accustomed to her tongue. You close your eyes entirely as she kisses up your thigh before spitting in her hand and entering you with two fingers. As she continues to lick your clit intently, you hear and feel her yelp in surprise. You open your eyes to see Mitchell, already fully recovered, entering her from behind.

Monica's eyes glaze over with pleasure as her fingers continue to pump in and out of you. She momentarily grabs your hips and drags you a few inches closer to thrust her ass further back onto her other lover's dick. Her hips push back on him with his every thrust, and you begin to rock your hips slightly, matching her fingers' thrusts inside you. She lifts her face from your slit, unable to contain her screams as she's fucked harder. She slips a third finger into you, subsequently shifting forward to clench a hand around your neck. You moan loudly, overcome entirely by lust. You rub your clit desperately as she plunges her fingers in and out of you, her flushed face turned to look behind her.

"Oh, God," You hear Mitchell again from behind. Monica's legs begin to tremble as if on cue, and her grip around your neck tightens along with her pace inside you. She leans down to kiss you, her fingers loosening slightly on your neck. You take a ragged breath in as you rub your clit faster, seeing a few stars in your eyes. You feel your own orgasm approaching as Monica's fingering becomes frantic. Her knees collapse beneath her as she cums, her fingers slipping entirely off your neck. Mitchell grabs her ass as he flattens out with her, bottoming out inside her as he finishes again. The tension builds in pure bliss as Monica fingers you with short and deep thrusts as your hips begin to tremble. You let out several short moans as you reach the peak, allowing your legs to stretch out as they spasm, dragging loudly against the gravel. Your hips buck a final time before you lay panting with the other two members of the unbelievable scene.

You're reaching for your underwear in a daze and sliding them back up your legs when you freeze at the terrifying sound of opening elevator doors.

TO BE CONTINUED