Blended TML Ch 21

Brise and Katya are still wobbling around joyously at the end of the little dock, bathed in the gold of the safety light and silhouetted hypnotically against the colors of the resorts on the far bank.

They spot Piper ambling toward them in her underwear, carrying three ciders. They haven’t drunk all their stuff yet, but of course they want something cold. Piper’s arrival has a slight—very slight—sobering effect on them, and she even sees a hint of wariness for a fraction of a second. Then that’s gone, and it’s clear that she’s welcome. Indeed, from the way their eyes rove her body, very welcome.

“Milady,” Piper says with an apologetic smile for Brise. “I changed my mind. May I have this dance?”

Gurlberg doesn’t have much of a club scene, and as much as Piper tries to present herself as someone who has seen and done it all, she hasn’t. She’s never set foot in a club, and the only dancing she’s done that wasn’t at a school dance was at a sleepover.

But she watched Brise and Katya closely before Mary chose to call it a night, and she also watches a lot of horny TikTok. Their little impromptu rager is normal for about thirty seconds before Brise’s in close, looking for friction. Piper rolls the dice and gives it to her, but she lets the party girls lead. Brise’s as warm and soft as she looks, and Piper can’t believe how uninhibited she is with all those piercings. Piper would be terrified of something getting snagged, but Brise just does whatever. They’re an extension of her.

She grabs Piper’s hips and comes in, chest to chest, her hips doing fascinating things, but that’s just cover; she wants to rub her pierced nips on something. Her boozy breath and shockingly good perfume pack a wallop.

Piper cautiously caresses the curves a little to test the waters, and Brise welcomes it. Piper’s half-chub is well on its way to becoming a situation no matter what, so she sees no reason not to live a little. Brise’s flimsy teddy might as well not be there at all, and cupping a decadent handful of her bronzed ass is transcendent.

Brise interprets that and spins to grind her booty on Piper’s package. That’s not Piper’s first choice, but she’s not about to complain, and she doesn’t get the chance.

Katya’s behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist. There’s enough left functioning in Piper’s brain that she realizes at some point this no longer counts as dancing, and can only be called dry humping—although nothing is dry in this humid soup.

Brise is a lot, and she’s so good at this, yet she can’t compete with what Piper feels pressed against her backside. Katya’s breath tickles her ear, and she’s far more hung than Ines.

Piper’s knees are weak. She’s out of her depth, but that’s OK because she knows exactly what to do: fake it until she makes it. That has never let her down before, and it won’t now.