Back to the room

The sun was a hammer by mid-afternoon, beating down until the pool tiles shimmered like a mirage. The speakers around the pool played disco tunes, people splashed, the air reeked of chlorine, coconut lotion, and greasy barbecue smoke. Ice clattered into cups, plastic straws slurped. A mess of noise, heat, and sweat.

Mark had been smart, throwing towels down early to claim three loungers by the deep end, whenever people climbed out of the pool they would get a good look at both Emma and Maggie.

Beside him Emma stretched like a cat, yellow bikini straps cutting bright lines into her skin. Her hair caught the light when she flicked it back, every curve of her body bait laid out without shame. She dared anyone not to stare at her tits, the swell of her arse, the strip of fabric barely covering her cunt.

And Maggie. Poor Maggie had started the day curled into herself like she wanted to vanish. Knees tight to her chest, robe yanked close, glasses slipping down her nose as she fussed them back up with jerky little motions. A woman wound so tight she looked like she’d snap in two if someone so much as breathed wrong.

But then came the drinks.

Glasses dripping cold water down onto her thighs. Gin cut with lemon. Sugary cocktails with stupid umbrellas. Something neon and toxic she couldn’t even name. With every sip, her back loosened, her laugh grew freer. The knot of shame at her spine began to slip.

By the third drink, Maggie was leaning against Emma, giggling into her shoulder. By the fourth, she was tugging at the top of that yellow swimsuit Emma had **** her into. The neckline sank lower, the thin material stretched tight over the heavy bulge of her tits.

Emma slid her sunglasses down, smirk cutting sharp. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

Maggie flushed, red to the roots of her hair. “Am I?” Her accent soft and coy, the kind of sound that begged to be teased.

“Oh, you are.” Emma’s eyes locked on the soft swell pressing against the fabric. She let them linger, drinking Maggie in. “And I love it.”

Mark tilted his head, smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. His cock stirred beneath his shorts, but he said nothing, just set his glasses back in place like he hadn’t been staring.

Another drink, and Maggie grew bolder. She hitched the suit up her thighs, baring the neat landing strip Emma had carved between her legs that morning. The yellow lycra bunched high, lips outlined, the fabric one wrong move away from showing everything. A warm breeze kissed the damp flesh, goosebumps crawling over her thighs. She clapped a hand over her mouth, giggling at herself.

“I feel wicked,” she whispered, breathless.

“You are wicked,” Emma purred, leaning in. Her fingers tugged Maggie’s strap higher, then lower, playing with her like she was a doll. She didn’t stop her hand resting too long against Maggie’s skin, and Maggie gasped, chest jumping as if the touch burned.

Mark bent close, murmured something against Emma’s ear. She laughed, low and dirty, then patted his thigh. He stood, scooping up his towel.

Maggie blinked. “Where are you going?”

“Room,” he said easily, eyes dragging once more across her tits. “Need to cool off.”

Emma watched him walk away, sly grin curling. Then she leaned into Maggie’s ear, voice dripping like poison. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

Maggie frowned, cheeks pink. “Done?”

“You’ve made him so fucking hard he can’t sit out here another second. He’s going back to wank his cock off thinking about you.”

The words slapped her across the face. Maggie went crimson, nearly spilling her drink. “No! He’s not—he wouldn’t—”

Emma chuckled darkly. “Oh, he is. Right now he’s up there, pulling his shorts down, fist wrapped round his cock, thinking of your tits in this suit, the way you spread your thighs when you laugh. He’s **** for it. **** for you.”

Maggie pressed her drink against her mouth, hiding behind the sugared rim. “That’s… humiliating.”

Emma’s hand slid bold and heavy onto her thigh. “It’s not humiliating. It’s thrilling. And your cunt’s wet over it.”

Maggie’s knees clamped shut, but she didn’t shove her hand away. Her chest heaved, breath ragged.

They lingered until the sky bruised orange, air sticky with smoke and music. Then Emma stood, stretching long and obscene, bikini cutting into her curves. She held out her hand.

“Come.”

Maggie’s pulse thumped wild. “Where?”

Emma’s grin sharpened. “To see how he’s doing.”

Her stomach flipped heavy with dread and heat. Still, she let Emma tug her up, robe loose across her shoulders, sandals smacking the stone as they walked. The elevator was silence, Maggie’s heart hammering, Emma’s hand warm at her back.

Upstairs, the corridor lay hushed, carpet swallowing their steps. Their doors faced, numbers glowing. Emma pressed a finger to her lips, a wicked shhh and slid the key.

The door clicked open.

Mark was sprawled against the headboard, lamp casting gold across his body. Phone in one hand. The other fisting his cock. His chest heaved, thighs tensed, eyes half-shut with the steady pull of his hand. On his phone screen, Maggie froze, were her photos from the plane. Blouse open, tits hanging, thighs wide, face turned away.

His eyes flicked up when they entered. Startled, but he didn’t hide. Didn’t stop. His hand kept pumping, slow, deliberate.

Maggie clutched her robe. “Oh God—”

Emma closed the door behind them. Smile sharp and merciless. “See? Told you.”

Maggie’s gaze fell helplessly to his cock. Thick, hard, veins swollen, tip slick with pre-cum glistening under the light. She’d never seen one properly, never in light, never so close. Terror and hunger tangled in her chest.

“I’ve only ever… in the dark,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Never really looked.”

Emma slid her hand into Maggie’s, squeezing. “Then look. Look at what you do to him.”

Maggie’s breath hitched as her eyes roamed his length, the flushed head, the shine of wet across his shaft. “I’ve had… three lovers. But I never let them see me either. Always rushed. Always dark.”

“And you hated it.” Emma’s tone left no room.

Tears prickled Maggie’s eyes, though her lips trembled into a smile. “I did.”

Mark groaned, slowing his fist as though waiting for them. Emma tugged Maggie forward, voice a velvet lash.

“Touch him.”

Maggie shook her head. “I can’t—”

“You can.” Emma dragged her trembling hand forward, pressed it over the thick, hot shaft.

Maggie gasped at the weight, the heat burning against her palm. Mark moaned, head tipping back, a raw sound tearing from him.

Emma wrapped her hand over Maggie’s, guiding. “Like this. Slow. Tight. Feel him throb under you.”

Maggie copied her, shaky at first, then steadier. Mark’s hips shifted, breath ragged. Maggie’s eyes widened.

“He likes it?” she whispered.

Emma laughed low. “He’s fucking aching for it.”

Maggie’s hand grew confident, pumping him, watching his chest rise and fall, the way his cock twitched under her grip. Her robe fell open as she leaned in, and Emma’s whisper hissed against her ear.

“Show him you. Don’t hide now.”

Maggie hesitated, then slipped the straps of the suit down her shoulders, peeling it to her waist. Her tits spilled free, nipples hard, heavy breasts swaying as she stroked him.

Mark groaned, hips jerking. His eyes devoured her.

Maggie laughed breathless, wild, but didn’t stop. For once, she wasn’t hiding.

Emma slid down beside her, hand joining hers on his shaft, showing her a sharper twist, a firmer squeeze. Together they worked him, dragging him to the edge, pulling groans and curses from his mouth.

“Not yet,” Emma ordered, and Maggie obeyed, slowing, giggling as Mark writhed, cock twitching helpless in her hand.

When Emma finally gave the nod, Maggie sped up, tits bouncing as she leaned into it. Mark’s body arched, a strangled shout breaking from him as his cock erupted. Hot cum splattered across Maggie’s tits, streaking her skin, dripping over her nipples.

She froze, then burst into shocked laughter. Emma laughed with her, both women smeared and slick, watching him collapse against the headboard, chest heaving.

Maggie looked down at herself, cum gleaming across her breasts. Her mouth dropped. “I can’t believe… oh God, I just—”

Emma kissed her cheek, still laughing. “Believe it. You were perfect.”

And Maggie, trembling, tits painted with his release, finally believed her.