Fap Fiction: Three’s a Crowd

By Colette Callaway

The vibration in her back pocket came suddenly, and she understood its significance almost as an afterthought; at first, it was nothing but a pleasant zing, something pulsating between her ass and the groin of the guy pushing his cock against her in rhythm with the music. She hadn't realized he—or anyone, for that matter—had been dancing with her. Oops.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, her body stilling as her dance partner ran a hand down her hip and slunk away, not impervious to her pause. She didn't even look up as he left—this brand of wasted didn't allow for multitasking. Jack's name lit up her screen, and she struggled to slide open the text under the pulsating lights. Clubs were not meant for texting, she mused, her fingers fumbling over the numbers as she thumbed in her passcode. Her boyfriend was out with his friends; it was not unlike most Friday nights. This time, though, his text didn't say "Love you, Alice," or "I'm drukjkn," like it normally did. This time, he'd sent a video. No text, no description, no follow-up message—just the video. She hit play, already bemused by what intoxicated message he'd probably recorded for her. Her slight smile quickly faded as she peered down at the screen, moving her face closer to the blurry image. Could this really be what it looked like? 

It wasn't a message for her at all—it seemed almost unintentionally sent, like he'd hit the "share" button on accident. And in the video was something she hadn't expected to see outside the contents of her apartment: It was Jack's cock. She'd recognize it anywhere, thanks to the sharp line of his circumcision scar. He was pushing fervently into a woman who was bent over his desk, her ass arched into the air, his thick hands gripping her blonde hair and pulling tightly. She could even see his electricity bill in the video, the yellow address change label shaking violently as he pounded her doggy style. 

"Miss? Can I get you anything?" Alice's head snapped up, the bartender clearly agitated that she was taking up space without ordering anything. Bodies pushed around her and behind her and jammed themselves in front of her as she shook her head softly, leaving the bar and her jacket in a trance. Had you asked her how she got to Jack's apartment, she wouldn't have been able to tell you—she was just there, before she could even think about it, opening the door with the key he'd given her months before. Finding the two of them would have been easy even if she hadn't followed him into his room dozens of times before, considering clothes—jeans, a pale pink top, a lacy green bra—left a trail like erotic bread crumbs all the way down the hall and through his doorway. They'd clearly been desperate to rip each other's clothes off from the second they got inside. 

When she walked through the door, Jack was reclined in his bed, his head propped against his the deep red of the pillows as he stroked the girl's hair, her lips wrapped firmly around his cock. She was sucking him off vigorously, the hollows of her cheeks deep as she slurped and left long rivulets of saliva along his shaft that pooled around his balls. He looked up when her silhouette blocked the light from the living room; her shadow perfectly eclipsed his face, giving the setting an even more ominous aesthetic. "Baby!" he gasped. Wordlessly, she approached him, the mystery woman turning around to face her with eyes wide in surprise. 

Alice reached out toward her, her face nearly expressionless as she wiped a strand of spit away from the other woman's mouth. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned down to kiss her deeply and passionately, her tongue moving forcefully and probing for some kind of response. When she got what she was looking for, she looked up at Jack; a grin spread across his face, and she couldn't help but reflect the smile herself as she pulled her tank top over her head. 

"Thanks for the invite, baby."