ALICE Ch 237

The door clicks shut and Lora stands there, only wobbling a little. She’s drunk, but it’s not **** that has her feeling so strange. She saw what she saw. Kylie did in fact leave the bar with Mio. Lora clears her throat, head spinning. She needs to remove her makeup and get undressed. And drink some water. She doesn’t do those things; she just flops on the bed. The last shred of her good sense goes to safely setting her glasses aside so that she doesn’t roll over on them.

The ceiling rotates slowly. The thoughts are like flashbulbs going off.

She sees Glynda’s face after the race. An Amazon cock spraying cum onto the curve of Kylie’s back. Imaginary images mingle with real ones. She sees Kylie holding hands with some guy on the beach. Faye in the hospital. Alice looking scary. Mio, as she looked when she rather forwardly put her hand on Lora’s leg in Japan and propositioned her. The way that Mio looked at Kylie.

These are not healthy thoughts. Thinking about Kylie and the Amazons was easy. Thinking about Kylie and Mio? Lora paws for her phone and unlocks it, only to be blinded by a harsh ad for Diorgasm. An annoyingly pretty Val looks improbably neutral about her position between two indecent bulges. Lora knows those hipbones: the one on the right is Alice Wilde.

There’s a flash of Alice Wilde and Faye Darcy, and for whatever reason, Lora sees them nude and kissing with Alice fondling Faye’s breast. She remembers that Kylie mentioned sleeping with Alice. That vision is much more robust: Kylie’s fingernails scraping Alice’s bony back. It wasn’t as though Lora and Kylie were nude around each other so much, but it was enough for Lora to be self-conscious about all the little differences between them. Kylie’s breasts aren’t quite as big, but they’re perkier. So is the rest of her. Even between her legs, everything is very… taut and neat. Meanwhile, Lora doesn’t look like Michaelangelo sculpted her out of marble. She has skin and puffiness and it’s not even symmetrical down there.

Lora sees shiny white strings and drops on Kylie’s belly, which is flat and has defined abs. Lora becomes conscious of her hand resting on her own stomach, which is… not like that.

She rolls over onto her front with a little groan of misery. The movement of her body brings another completely fictional image: Kylie being spit-roasted by a pair of Amazons. That’s not even possible; the Amazons are too hung for any normal-sized woman to suck them off like that. You would have to like… just do the head and use your hands. That line of thinking brings more than images; tactile sensations come as well. She can imagine firm, hot flesh under her fingertips.

Begrudgingly, Lora slides a hand underneath herself and into her pants.