Wine Bar, Candlelit, Soft Piano Playing

Candlelight danced across the polished oak. The room pulsed with low laughter, the clink of glass, and the hush of secrets barely swallowed. Mel lounged in her chair like she owned the night, pinot noir in hand, curls wild, eyes sharp.

“I told my date I’m an open book,” she said, smirking. “But he wasn’t ready for the chapter on edible lingerie.”

Sandy’s laugh rang out, bracelets chiming as she leaned forward, hazel eyes gleaming. “Mel, you’re gonna set that book on fire. Who is this guy, and how wild did it get?”

“You’re a scandal in heels,” Liza drawled, lifting her glass. “Come on—spill it.”

“Chaos is my art form,” Mel said. She tossed her curls, but her thumb rubbed the stem of her wineglass like a worry stone. “Name’s Baluch. Goes by Balls. Tattoo artist. Hands like sin. Mouth like a confession.”

Sandy whistled. “Yes. And?”

“Studio. Wall. Fucked me till I forgot my name. His mouth—everywhere. His cock—ruinous.”

Liza fanned herself with a coaster. “You’re going to end me.”

Mel looked down at her wine, then added, quieter, “He grabbed a vibe. Made me scream. Whispered filth in my ear and went again. I left my soul on his floor.”

A beat.

Sandy’s voice gentled. “That sounds like more than chaos.”

Mel’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, well. It doesn’t matter now.” She stood, quick to pivot. “My loft’s stocked. Toys are charged. And I have two fucking goddesses at my table.”

“Before I combust,” Liza said, rising. “Let’s go.”

Mel led the way out, hips swaying like punctuation. “Let’s write a better ending.”

Mel’s Loft, Incense Burning, Slow R&B Playing

Sandalwood curled around them like a secret. Bass trembled underfoot. Fairy lights bathed brick and skin in gold.

Mel pressed a kiss to Sandy’s shoulder, slow and deliberate. “Your lips are sin,” she whispered.

Liza slipped in behind, hands on Mel’s hips. “You always take the spotlight.”

“Then come steal it,” Mel said, turning into Liza’s kiss.

Sandy tugged them toward the leather couch, breath thick. “I want to see both of you fall apart.”

They peeled off layers—silk, lace, tension. Mel lowered herself into Sandy’s lap, straddling her thighs, moaning as Liza’s hands slid over her back.

“God, Mel,” Sandy murmured, guiding Mel’s hips against her own. “Ride me slow.”

Mel rolled her hips, gasping. “Harder. Don’t let me fake it.”

Liza knelt beside them, brushing curls from Mel’s face. “You don’t have to pretend with us.”

Mel met her gaze. Something cracked, just for a second. Then she nodded.

“Top drawer,” she breathed. “Toys.”

Liza fetched the wand and bullet. Sandy held Mel, one arm wrapped around her waist.

“You ready?” Liza asked.

Mel laid back into Sandy’s chest. “Fuck me open.”

Liza pressed the bullet to her clit—sharp pulses. Sandy turned on the wand, its deep hum joining the rhythm. Mel cried out, fingers clawing the leather.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “God, don’t stop—”