Stoned and slutty

Chapter 6: Spiked, Stoned, and Slutty

The doorbell rang again, sharper this time. Carlos and I froze, my hands still cupping Terry’s soft, heavy tits and his fingers buried in Danielle’s massive ones.

“Shit,” I muttered in that husky voice. “Who the fuck is that?”

Carlos grinned lazily, not bothering to cover up. “Ah, my friends. I texted them earlier. Bring more good stuff. Party time, eh?”

I yanked my hands back like I’d been burned. “No. Hell no. We are not turning this into a **** den with Kellie’s mom’s body on display. Send them away, Carlos.”

But he was already up, waddling to the door in just those damp white lace panties, Terry’s tits swinging freely. He opened it and two sketchy-looking Mexican guys strolled in carrying bags — more weed, bottles of tequila, and God knows what else.

I stood up, tits bouncing, and tried to sound authoritative. “Guys, seriously. This is a bad idea. We’ve got enough problems with the body swaps. Take your shit and—”

One of them shoved a plastic cup into my hand, filled with bright red margarita mix. “Relax, señorita. Drink. You look tense.”

I was thirsty and still buzzing from the weed, so I took a big gulp. It tasted a little off — sweeter than normal — but I downed half of it anyway. Big mistake.

Within ten minutes the ecstasy hit like a freight train.

My skin started tingling. Heat bloomed between my legs and spread outward until my whole borrowed body felt electric. Colors looked brighter. Every brush of fabric on my nipples and clit felt insanely good. I giggled — actually giggled — in Danielle’s sultry voice.

“Fuck… what was in that drink?” I slurred, already swaying my hips.

Carlos laughed. “Little something extra. Good, no?”

The music got turned up. Suddenly we were dancing — me in the skimpy sundress, Carlos in nothing but Terry’s panties. My heavy tits bounced wildly as I moved, the ecstasy making every sway feel erotic. Carlos pressed up against me, Terry’s soft body rubbing on Danielle’s curves. Our hands started roaming again. Before I knew it we were making out, sloppy and filthy — tongues sliding, my feminine moans mixing with his grunts in Terry’s voice.

“Goddamn… this feels wrong but so fucking good,” I groaned between kisses, grinding my soaked pussy against Terry’s thigh.

We raided Danielle’s suitcase for outfit try-ons. I stripped out of the sundress and tried on her tiniest bikini top while Carlos squeezed into one of her sheer cover-ups. We did a ridiculous striptease, laughing our asses off — me peeling off thongs and shaking my ass, him making Terry’s tits bounce to the beat. Shots of tequila went down easy. More weed was smoked. The room got hazier and hornier.

Then the craving hit me hard.

“Shit… I need a cigarette,” I mumbled, licking my lips. Danielle’s body was screaming for nicotine. My fingers actually trembled reaching for her pack on the table. I lit one up and took a long drag, the smoke filling my lungs and making my head spin even more. “Mmm… fuck yes. This slutty body needs it.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling like a total whore, while Carlos danced behind me, hands on my hips. The ecstasy kept everything dialed to maximum — every touch, every grind, every filthy kiss sending sparks through my hyper-sensitive pussy.

This was spiraling fast, but damn if it didn’t feel incredible in the moment.