Ch. 04 A Club Night Out

Content warning: "Feminine" words are used to describe the trans man's genitalia. Fisting is described in the story. If this is not your thing please move on.

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The late afternoon sun spilled lazily through the wide slider windows of Tristan's apartment, the golden light mingling with the soft rustle of fabric and bursts of laughter. The three of them had sprawled across the bedroom, digging through closets and drawers, pulling out outfits and accessories with the same energy they'd once applied to undressing.

The apartment buzzed with lazy excitement, the kind that hums after a good high and even better sex. The air still smelled faintly of joint smoke and sweat, sunlight filtering through the wide open garden doors as the trio drifted toward the bedroom.

Wolf leaned back on the bed, watching with a lopsided grin as Anna rummaged through Tristan's closet like it was a treasure chest. "What kind of party is this again?" he asked.

"A queer club night," Anna replied, holding up a sheer mesh top against her chest, then tossing it aside. "Everyone shows out. Glitter, harnesses, whatever makes you feel sexy."

Tristan was already shirtless, digging through a drawer with practiced ease.

He stood barefoot, holding up two shirts from the pile to his chest. "Sheer and slutty," he announced, showing off a gauzy yellow button-down, "or slutty and sheer?" He dangled a mesh black one with a wink.

"Yellow," Anna said without hesitation, perched on the bed in one of Wolf's oversized T-shirts. "It's sunny and slutty."

"Perfect," Tristan agreed, slipping it on. The fabric fell lightly over his skin, and he buttoned it halfway, leaving his chest and a hint of stomach exposed. He paired it with slightly oversized dark brown suit pants that sat high on his hips, giving him that loose, effortless charm he wore like a second skin.

Wolf was halfway through shimmying into a pair of soft, flowy charcoal cotton pants--no underwear, of course--when Anna walked over and dropped a bundle of clothes onto the bed.

"Alright, fashion show time. I'm dressing you."

Wolf arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Am I your canvas now?"

"Obviously." She winked and pulled him upright by the hand. "Arms up. Try this--it'll look amazing with your skin."

Laughing, he obeyed. Anna slid a delicate cropped fishnet tank in a muted khaki green over his torso, the fabric hugging him just enough to hint at the firm muscles beneath. She ran her hands down his sides, appreciating the sight. "Perfect. No underwear. Keep the pants."

Wolf looked at himself in the mirror with an amused smirk, the netting clinging to his torso in all the right places. The hem cut off just below his ribs, leaving the soft line of his stomach fully exposed.

"This is basically decorative."

"Exactly," Tristan chimed in, now sliding rings onto his fingers. "You've got the body. Let it do the talking."

Wolf rolled his eyes and smirked.

Anna let out a low, appreciative hum. "You're ridiculously hot."

"You picked it," he said. "This is your doing."

Then Anna disappeared for a minute, and when she came back--Wolf actually whistled.

She wore a cropped, oversized charcoal gray short-sleeve button-up shirt, buttoned only at the top. Beneath it, the sheer wine-red lace of her bra peeked out against her skin. Slouchy low-waisted olive cargo pants clung casually to her hips, with high-waisted sheer black lace panties popping just over the top. Matte oxblood ankle boots with square toes and chunky heels grounded the look, making her taller, sharper--irresistible.

Wolf blinked slowly, mouth just slightly open. "Holy shit."

"You like?" Anna grinned.

"I adore."

Anna turned in a slow circle, her ass peeking out beneath the loose fabric, and shot him a wink. "Good. That's the point."

Tristan sprayed a bit of cologne on Wolf's neck just to lean in and inhale it, muttering, "That's it," with a pleased grin. Anna fastened a necklace around Tristan's throat, then smacked his ass playfully.

Tristan turned with a delighted gasp. "Excuse me."

"You liked it."

"Obviously."

By the time they made it to the club, the sky was a deep navy, the street lit by flickering lamps and the occasional pass of a bike. Tucked down a barely-marked alley, the entrance looked more like a service door than anything else--just a tall, matte-black slab of steel beneath a single red light.

A pair of bouncers stood outside, one tall and blank-faced with a clipboard, the other built like a wall and staring straight through people. There was no line, no signage--just an unspoken understanding that you didn't approach unless you belonged.

Wolf shifted on his feet, eyeing the mix of people being turned away or waved inside. One couple in high fashion ravewear didn't make the cut. A shirtless boy in vinyl pants got in with a nod. It wasn't about looks. It was about vibe. Confidence. The way you carried your freedom.

Anna stepped forward first, chin lifted, posture easy. Her oversized cropped button-up fluttered with her movement, her sheer bra peeking underneath, low-slung cargo pants hanging off her hips, black lace panties just barely visible. She looked like she'd rolled out of a dream and didn't care if anyone followed.

Tristan came next, oozing his usual cool in loose brown suit pants and that sheer yellow shirt, open almost to his navel, chest glinting under the faint light. He offered the clipboard bouncer a familiar smile.

Wolf followed just behind, suddenly hyper-aware of his own skin. The charcoal cotton pants felt looser now, no underwear beneath, and the khaki fishnet tanktop clung to his torso like it was made for this place. He didn't try to pose--just stood there, letting the low hum of adrenaline carry him.

The bouncer looked them over slowly. Anna didn't flinch. Tristan raised an eyebrow. Wolf met the man's eyes and didn't look away.

A pause.

Then the clipboard lifted, and the bouncer nodded toward the door. "Go in."

A breath of relief, masked with a casual smirk. Anna gave Wolf's hand a quick squeeze and led the way.

Inside, the air shifted instantly--thick with bass and body heat. It was dark and pulsing and alive. The walls sweated with sound. Lasers cut through misty fog, painting bodies in flashes of red and violet. Music thundered like a heartbeat with no beginning or end.

There were no mirrors, no stages, no separation--just a sea of people, tangled in dance and desire, every body glowing in their own freedom.

Wolf blinked, breath catching as he looked around.

"You okay?" Tristan leaned in to murmur.

Wolf gave a soft laugh, wide-eyed. "I've never been more okay."

Anna grinned and grabbed both their hands, tugging them toward the crowd. "Let's find the others. Or get lost trying."

The music hit harder the deeper they went, vibrating up through the soles of their boots and into their bones. Smoke curled through the air, catching the light like ghosts, and bodies pressed close without apology--dancing, kissing, swaying in time to a beat that didn't care about control. It just was, primal and consuming.

Anna led the charge, her silhouette flickering in strobes, her cropped shirt open enough now that the lace of her bra gleamed beneath. She didn't push through the crowd so much as melt into it, hips swaying, arms loose, already dancing.

Tristan followed behind, one hand on her waist, the other reaching back for Wolf, pulling him in tight. "Don't think," he said into Wolf's ear. "Just feel."

Wolf laughed breathlessly, already half-lost to the heat. The press of bodies around them was heady--vinyl and sweat, perfume and skin. The music wound around his ribs and shook loose any hesitation. He moved, hips and shoulders catching the rhythm, his hands sliding down Tristan's back, the mesh of his tank clinging to damp skin.

It felt like swimming in desire. All around them: flashes of mouths on mouths, someone getting fingered against a wall, another person on their knees in the crush of dancers, lost in the moment. It was freedom, raw and sweaty and holy.

Anna turned to face them again, eyes glittering, her lips parted as she danced with her whole body. She reached for Wolf, grinding her hips against his with a grin that said she knew exactly what she was doing. He gave back everything she gave--heat, movement, laughter--and when Tristan pressed in behind him, sandwiching him between them, Wolf gasped.

The rhythm swallowed them whole.

They stayed like that for who knows how long, hands and mouths brushing in the dark, tangled in each other and the bodies around them. Every so often, someone passed by and locked eyes--offering, inviting--but they didn't take the bait. Not yet. The three of them were their own orbit.

Eventually, Anna leaned up to speak against Wolf's jaw, her lips brushing his ear. "There's a booth upstairs--balcony level. I think they're there."

Tristan caught the drift and steered them through the pulsing crowd, up a narrow metal staircase that clanged with every step. The balcony opened wide above the dancefloor like a shadowed overlook, bathed in red and indigo.

There, tucked into a crescent booth beneath a web of LED vines, sat a crew that radiated the same chaotic queer magic as Anna and Tristan. Faces lit up when they arrived--cheers, open arms, someone already pouring drinks.

Anna grinned and fell into someone's lap, Tristan followed with a wicked grin, and Wolf--flushed and glowing--took a breath before stepping into the circle, into whatever came next.

The booth was exactly where Anna had said it would be--tucked in the far corner near a mesh-covered window, barely lit, loud with music and laughter. Seven of them in total, some perched on the couch, others sprawled on the floor or leaning on each other, limbs tangled in a way that only came from years of friendship and shared debauchery.

"Ayyy, look who made it!" one of them called, a tall femme with bleached eyebrows and a sequined crop top. They reached out to Anna with both arms, pulling her into a hug that morphed into a lap-sit as Anna laughed and curled into them like she belonged there--which she did.

Wolf watched the exchange with a small smile, until the same femme looked up at him with a glittering grin. "And you brought the boy again. You're spoiling us."

"There they are!" someone else called out, raising a half-finished cocktail. "Took you long enough!"

"I thought you died in the line of slutty duty," another teased, eyes twinkling under rhinestone brows. "But look at you--all alive and glowing and still attached to your pants. Disappointing."

"Barely attached," Tristan shot back, flopping into the open seat like he owned it, his sheer shirt clinging to his skin with just the right amount of drama. "We'll see how long that lasts."

There were more greetings--hugs, high fives, cheek kisses. Most of them had met Wolf at the beach, but the club was different. Darker. Louder. Everything buzzing with that heat unique to places where anything might happen.

"Fuck, you do clean up," someone said, dragging a perfectly winged eye over Wolf's outfit before passing him a freshly lit joint.

"Thanks," Wolf replied, sliding in beside Anna, who smoothly shifted from her friend's lap back to his. She tucked her thigh over his and reached a hand up under the hem of his shirt, fingers grazing lightly at his side like she needed to feel skin.

"Isn't he ridiculous?" she said, looking around with a smirk. "Just a little slut in disguise."

"Girl, we know," someone else chimed in with a laugh, already reaching for the glitter pot.

Wolf took the joint with a small smirk, leaning back like he belonged there--which, at this point, he did. The bass thumped through the floor, vibrating up his spine, and the heat of Anna's body against his made him feel solid, seen. He wasn't just high--he was radiant, a little wild around the edges, soaking in every glance, every approving look like fuel.

Anna turned to him and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to his lips, fingers still tracing along his side. "You're mine tonight," she murmured, not as a question--but a promise.

Wolf met her gaze with a spark of amusement and something darker. "Then claim me right."

That earned a low laugh from her, and a flash of something hungry in her eyes.

Tristan dropped down beside them with a drink in each hand, his sheer shirt now practically second skin. "God, I love this place," he sighed dramatically, handing off one of the glasses. "Who's ready to get even filthier?"

Everyone raised a glass or a joint in a chaotic little toast. Wolf clinked his drink against Tristan's with a cocky little grin, letting the chaos, the heat, the wanting swirl around him.

He was ready. More than ready.

Eventually, someone stood and stretched dramatically. "Okay, sluts. Time to dance."

Their group peeled out of the booth in a flurry of laughter and limbs, spilling onto the dance floor like liquid light. The music thumped, deep and primal, bass vibrating in their ribs.

Anna grabbed Wolf by the hand and pulled him into the middle of it all. The crowd was a blur of skin and movement, flashing lights catching on mesh and sequins and slicked-back hair, and the pulse of bodies moved like heat in every direction.

They danced in a loose cluster--Anna, Wolf, Tristan, and the rest of the crew orbiting around each other in a glitter-dusted constellation. Someone handed Tristan a drink and, moments later, he was laughing with a sharp-jawed cutie in a cinched corset and platform boots, leaning in to talk close, one hand already resting on their hip. The flirtation was obvious, theatrical--Tristan biting his lip, tilting his head in exaggerated interest, giving a full-body shiver when the stranger whispered something in his ear.

Anna watched it happen, amused, and leaned up to whisper in Wolf's ear over the music, "God, he's such a slut when he's drunk."

Wolf grinned, glancing over to see Tristan now grinding slowly against the stranger, drink still in hand like it was part of the choreography. "At least he's hydrated," Wolf joked.

Anna laughed, low and delighted, her breath warm against his neck. "True. Responsible slut."

He turned back to her just in time to catch the way she was looking at him--head tilted, eyes half-lidded, mouth curled into something hungry and soft. Her fingers slid up the line of his torso, under the hem of his fishnet, the tips grazing just enough to make him shiver.

And just like that, the rest of the world dimmed.

She moved closer, bodies brushing from knee to chest, hands bracketing his waist. The music was vibrating through both of them now, syncing their pulses to the beat as she swayed against him, hips rolling slow and heavy. He matched her instinctively, confident in his body, in the attention she was giving him, in the way she seemed to want more of him with every passing second.

Wolf's hand found her lower back, pulling her in closer, and she let herself melt into him--one hand cupping the side of his neck, the other sliding into his hair.

They moved like that for a long moment, the rest of the dance floor a blur around them, until Anna leaned in and kissed him.

This time, it wasn't a teasing peck or a quick flash of heat. It was full, open-mouthed and deep, her tongue claiming his with slow, deliberate pressure. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and he kissed her back hard, matching her intensity, grounding himself in the press of her body, the scent of her sweat and perfume, the taste of her mouth and whatever cocktail she'd just stolen from Tristan.

They broke just long enough to breathe, foreheads touching, and then kissed again like it was inevitable.

Neither of them noticed the cheers from their friends or their shock struck faces. They were in it--high, tipsy, lit from within. Locked in.

Later that night, after the rush of bodies and bass, they slipped away to the rooftop.

It was quieter up there. The music thumped below like a distant heartbeat, while above, the city stretched out in a quiet sprawl, scattered lights blinking like lazy stars. A few others lingered around the edges, smoking or cuddling or just catching their breath.

Tristan perched on the low wall, legs swinging lazily, deep in conversation with the person he'd been dancing with. Their laughter floated over every so often, easy and low.

Wolf and Anna found a spot by themselves, tucked into a corner where the shadows softened everything. She leaned against him, her cheek brushing his shoulder, fingers laced loosely in his.

"This night's kind of perfect," she murmured.

"Yeah," Wolf said, exhaling. "It is."

They sat quietly for a while, the wind tugging at their clothes, brushing warm skin with cool air. Wolf rested his head against the wall behind them, his eyes tracing the skyline. Anna watched him in profile for a moment, then leaned in, her voice soft.

"Can I ask you something?"

He turned to her, one brow raised.

"Why this trip?" she asked. "I mean... not just the vacation vibe. What brought you out here? You seem like someone chasing something."

Wolf let out a low breath, more thoughtful than heavy. "Yeah. That's fair."

He paused, searching for the right place to begin. "I was in a relationship. We were good together--solid, for a while. But a few months back, she got this incredible offer to work abroad. Like... a big dream job. Other side of the world."

Anna nodded slowly, letting him go on.

"She wanted me to come. Or, failing that, to try long distance. And I just... couldn't. It didn't feel right. I wasn't ready to uproot everything, but I also didn't want to be tethered to something that didn't make sense anymore."

His voice had gone quieter now, not sad--just honest. "We talked it through. Said goodbye without drama. It was one of the kindest breakups I've ever seen, actually. But yeah... it left this big space in me. And I didn't want to rush to fill it. I just wanted to be for a while. Follow the pull. Let life show me where I'm supposed to go."

Anna was quiet, tracing her thumb gently along the side of his hand. "That makes so much sense. I... kind of admire that. Letting go of something even when it still had love in it? That's not easy."

He glanced at her. "No. But it felt right. And now, here I am. With you."

Her smile came slow, thoughtful. "So you're in your 'see-what-happens' era."

He laughed softly, eyes crinkling at the edges. "Exactly that."

Anna leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Well... I hope I get to be part of what happens."

Wolf turned toward her then, meeting her eyes like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You already are."

Their kiss came slowly, unhurried, like a secret they were letting each other in on. Tender. Curious. Full of a warmth that crackled just beneath the surface.

And for a little while, they didn't say anything else at all.

The wind had cooled them, but it hadn't dulled the pulse between them. Wolf was still a little high, a little drunk, but clear enough to feel the magnetic pull of Anna's presence, her body tucked against his. They hadn't spoken in a few minutes--just the slow rhythm of her fingers along his thigh, the occasional press of her lips to his neck.

Then she leaned in, mouth just at his ear, and whispered, "I want to show you something."

He turned toward her, eyes narrowing with interest. "Yeah?"

She nodded, already on her feet, tugging lightly at his hand. "Come on."

Wolf followed without hesitation, letting her lead him back inside. The heat hit them again, thick with bodies and smoke and basslines that seemed to climb up through the soles of their boots. She didn't speak, just glanced back at him now and then with a grin that made his blood run faster.

They slipped through the corridors of the club like they belonged there--past dancers with smeared glitter and dark eyes, past open doors that revealed moments too private or too public to watch for long. The walls were painted in deep, matte tones, the lights low and saturated, red and violet pooling in corners, shadow clinging to ceilings.

Anna's grip on his hand was firm, deliberate. Her other hand trailed over people as they passed, exchanging brief greetings or smirks--clearly familiar here in ways Wolf wasn't yet. It only made him want to follow her deeper.

Finally, they stopped outside a heavy door painted matte black, unmarked. Anna glanced over her shoulder and raised a brow. "You trust me?"

Wolf didn't even hesitate. "Yeah."

She smiled and pushed the door open.

Inside, it was darker, warmer. The music was a deeper throb here--more felt than heard. The room was softly lit with red and amber bulbs, draped in gauzy fabrics and leather accents. A couple lounged on a padded bench across the room, half-dressed, lazily entangled. No one looked up.

Anna guided him in, pulling the door shut behind them. Her hand slid to his waist as she turned to face him, body close, eyes glinting.

"I like watching people here," she murmured. "And sometimes... being watched."

Her fingers played with the hem of his mesh tank, slipping under it to graze his stomach.`

"Is that something you think you'd like?" she asked, low and curious, almost innocent in tone--but her eyes said otherwise.

Wolf's heart thudded once, hard. He wasn't sure what he'd expected. But this? The invitation, the heat in her touch, the confidence in her gaze--it was intoxicating.

"I don't know," he said honestly, voice rough at the edges. "But I want to find out."

Anna smiled like that was exactly what she'd hoped he'd say.

"Good," she breathed, and kissed him again--this time with teeth, with heat, with promise.

The playroom was spacious but intimate--lit by scattered pools of warm, amber light that left more in shadow than they revealed. The walls were draped in heavy velvet and sheer mesh, creating a soft cocoon that muffled sound and blurred shapes. The air smelled faintly of leather, sweat, and something sweet--maybe incense, maybe anticipation.

Against one wall, a low padded bench ran the length of the room, scattered with pillows in dark jewel tones. A set of suspension points hung from the ceiling, matte black and well-used. A Saint Andrew's cross stood in one corner like sculpture, its surface worn smooth from touch and time. Shelves held toys arranged like art--silicone and metal, feathers and rope, everything gleaming under the dim light. A long mirror lined one side of the room, half-covered by a swath of sheer fabric, catching flickers of movement like memory.

Anna took her time. She moved through the room like she owned it, fingers still laced with Wolf's, occasionally brushing his wrist with her thumb. She stopped near a wide padded ottoman in the center, then turned to him--close now, her face lit golden-red from below.

"I like this one," she said, running her hand over the leather. "You can stretch out. Or kneel. Or lie back and let someone climb on top of you."

She said it like she was talking about furniture design. But her eyes held that spark again--that challenge.

Wolf didn't answer right away. He looked at her, letting the moment swell between them. The pulse of music bled through the walls, a steady throb that matched the one rising in his chest.

Anna stepped into him, her body brushing his, hands sliding up under the hem of his shirt. She pushed it up slowly, revealing the line of his torso inch by inch. "Still think this top is decorative?"

"Completely," he said, voice low, already breathier than he meant it to be.

"Good." She leaned in and kissed just below his ribs, teeth grazing his skin.

Her hands roamed--deliberate and slow, fingers mapping his stomach, his sides, then sliding around to grip his hips. "You've been watching me all night," she murmured.

"You were hard to miss."

"Mm. You kept up though." Her voice dropped, sultry and sure. "Danced with me like you wanted to bite. Let me touch you like you belonged to me."

Wolf's breath hitched as her hands slid down to the waistband of his pants, not going further--yet--but pressing just enough to promise she could. "Didn't hear you complain," he murmured, meeting her gaze.

Her grin was sharp, pleased. "Not planning to."

Anna kissed him again--harder now, full of heat and demand. One hand tangled in his hair, the other sliding back up his torso. Wolf kissed back, grounded and present, hungry and sure. He wasn't unsure of himself anymore. Not with her hands on him, not here. Not when he'd caught people glancing their way, intrigued. Not when he felt like the hottest man in the room.

She pulled away just enough to speak against his lips. "How do you feel about being watched?"

Wolf let out a slow breath, body humming, eyes locked to hers. "Right now?" he said, reaching down to run his palm slowly along her thigh, gripping just enough to hear her catch her breath.

"I think I like it."

Anna's lips brushed his again, teasing now, her hands slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to rest just above his hips. Her thumbs moved in slow, deliberate circles against his skin, and her mouth dipped lower--first his jaw, then the hollow of his throat, then further still.

Wolf's breath caught as she trailed kisses down the center of his chest, dragging her tongue along the line of his sternum. The fishnet lifted easily over his head when she pulled it off, leaving him bare and glowing under the low amber lights.

She stepped back just a little, eyes roaming hungrily over him. "God," she murmured, "you look so fucking good like this."

He just stood there--hips loose, arms at his sides, cocky in the quiet way only he could be. That gleam in his eyes said you haven't even seen the half of me.

Anna dropped down onto the ottoman in front of him and tugged him closer by the waistband of his pants.

"Hands behind your back."

Wolf held her gaze for a beat, then obeyed--crossing his wrists behind him, chest open and strong. The heat of his arousal was clear through the soft charcoal fabric, undeniable.

Anna kissed just above the waistband, then tugged his pants low, slow, until they rested just under his buttcheeks.

She let her gaze linger. His cunt was already slick, lips flushed, his clit hard and begging for attention. Anna's mouth parted a little just at the sight.

"Fuck," she whispered. "You really didn't wear underwear."

"Told you."

"I believed you," she said, her voice low, thick with hunger. "I just didn't know how good that would be for me."

She leaned in, breathing him in, lips brushing just above his mound. Then her tongue followed--slow at first, then firmer, tasting the slick already there. She licked from his entrance to his clit with a groan and gave it a soft suck, just enough to make his thighs shudder.

Wolf gasped and tried to hold still, hands tight behind his back.

"Keep them there," she said without looking up, her voice like a current wrapping around him. She buried her mouth between his legs again, tongue working him open, lips slick with him, moaning as she tasted more.

He rolled his hips against her face with barely-contained need, head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut.

"Fuck, Anna--"

She hummed around his clit, sending vibrations through his whole body, then pulled back just enough to speak. "You're soaked for me."

"I've been soaked since the booth," he shot back, breathless but grinning.

Anna grinned too, smug and wrecked all at once. She sucked on his clit again, one hand coming up to palm his thigh, keeping him steady as her tongue slid back down, working his cunt with skillful precision--slow, messy, greedy.

Wolf looked like a goddamn dream: chest rising and falling, legs spread, hips twitching toward her mouth. Every breath was a moan.

Anna didn't stop--not even when she felt the presence of others lingering at the edge of the room. A ripple of quiet breath, a shifting of weight, the subtle sound of someone sitting down nearby. The energy shifted almost imperceptibly, a collective exhale as eyes settled on the scene before them. But she didn't look up. Her whole world was Wolf.

She just kept going, like she had nowhere else in the world to be. Her tongue dragged slowly through his folds, savoring the way his slick coated her lips. She lapped at him lazily, then more deliberately, like she was memorizing every part of him--every soft ridge, every twitch and shiver beneath her mouth.

She tilted her head and used the flat of her tongue to press against his entrance, then flicked her tongue back up to circle his clit--slow and steady. Then again. Then again. Unrelenting. Tender. Hungry.

Wolf was panting now, hips twitching, his thighs trembling where they were spread open across the velvet-covered bench. One hand clutched the armrest behind him, the other fisted in Anna's hair, though he didn't push--he just held. Anchored. Needing.

Anna finally pulled back just a little, her lips glistening with his slick, and looked up at him with that wicked, reverent smile. "Take these off for me," she murmured, tugging gently at the waistband of his loose pants.

Wolf's breath hitched. He nodded, lifting his hips to let her slide them down. The fabric pooled at his ankles, exposing all of him--bare, flushed, wet with her tongue and the heat of his own need.

He was already dripping again, and Anna let her fingers trace up his inner thigh, slow and deliberate. The way he spread wider for her, the way he watched her--like he wanted her to ruin him and thank her for it--made her moan softly under her breath.

Then, with the same lazy care she'd used with her tongue, she slid two fingers between his folds, coating them in his wetness. Her thumb brushed his clit as she curled inside him, just enough to feel the way his walls fluttered around her.

Wolf's back arched, a groan spilling from his lips as his head tipped back. She stayed there--just like that--for a moment. Fingers inside him, her palm flush against him, her mouth hovering just above. Letting him feel everything.

"You feel incredible," she whispered, breath ghosting over his swollen skin.

Someone nearby let out a soft, shaky breath.

Anna's eyes flicked up, catching movement in the dim light. A person stood a few feet away, eyes wide, lips parted slightly as they watched--transfixed. They caught Anna's eye and stepped forward just a little, hands raised slightly in a silent ask.

"Would you mind if I watched closer?" they asked softly, voice low, respectful but full of hunger.

Anna didn't break rhythm. Her fingers kept moving, slow and steady. She looked up at Wolf.

"This okay with you?" she asked gently, the dominance still there in her tone, but her eyes searching his.

Wolf was flushed, panting, sweat glistening on his chest and collarbones. He looked over at the stranger--then back at Anna.

"Yeah," he rasped, his voice low and wrecked and sure. "Let them watch."

Anna smirked and leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his clit, her fingers curling inside him just right.

"Good boy," she whispered.

Wolf's breath came fast and shallow, sweat glistening on his chest, his whole body flushed. Still standing, he looked down at Anna with blown pupils and trembling thighs, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Then, wordlessly, he stepped back and eased himself down onto the ottoman behind him, sitting first--legs spread, head tipped back, the air thick with heat. He looked like he was burning from the inside out.

He leaned back further, shifting onto his elbows, then all the way down onto his back, stretching out for her. His knees bent, feet planted, legs falling open in an invitation that felt both deliberate and desperate. And then--slowly, with intention--he reached down, grabbed behind his thighs, and pulled his legs up toward his chest, holding himself open. Offering.

His cunt was flushed, glistening, twitching with every heartbeat. He held himself there, breath shuddering out of him. "I need it," he said, voice rough and certain. "I need to come."

His knees bent and pulled up toward his chest, baring everything to her. The exposed vulnerability made his pulse thunder in his ears. But it didn't feel scary.

It felt like trust.

Anna settled between his thighs, her hands gliding over his hips, his thighs, his belly. She took her time, her gaze roaming over him with open hunger and reverence. "You look so fucking beautiful like this," she said, low and quiet. "All open for me."

He whimpered when her fingers brushed over his cunt again--still soaked, still pulsing from her mouth. She pressed two fingers inside, slow and careful, curling them just enough to make him jolt and moan.

But then she paused.

Her other hand came up to brush his cheek, and when he met her eyes, she wasn't teasing. She was serious. Soft.

"Do you want me to fist you?" she asked, quiet but unmistakable.

The words lit him up--his whole body shuddered.

"Yes," he said, not even pretending to hesitate. "I want you to fill me up."

Anna let out a slow breath, like she'd just been gifted something sacred.

"You've got me," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the inside of his knee. "I'll take care of you."

She started slow--two fingers, sliding in with ease, his cunt already soft and slick around her. She moved with care, with focus, curling inside him, letting him adjust before easing in more. Three, then four fingers, each one a gasp, a whimper, a flex of muscle around her hand.

Her mouth brushed over his thigh, his belly, murmuring praise like it was prayer. "That's it. Let me in, baby."

Wolf lay back on the ottoman, legs pulled wide and high to his chest, arms flexing as he held himself open. His cunt glistened in the low light--flushed, twitching, stretched from Anna's fingers and already slick with need.

Anna knelt between his legs, eyes blown wide and hungry. One hand braced warm and steady on his thigh, the other slid back inside him--slow, deliberate, knuckle by knuckle until she was buried deep again.

Wolf gasped, his whole body shivering. "F-fuck--Anna--"

His cunt sucked her in like it was made for her, muscles fluttering around her wrist. She curled her fingers and twisted, watching his face collapse with pleasure.

"You're so full," she whispered, reverent. "You feel that, baby? Feel me inside you?"

He nodded, barely managing breath. "Don't stop. Please."

Around them, the energy shifted. The small crowd that had gathered leaned in closer--fingers moving faster, lips parted, the scent of sex thick in the air. All eyes were on Wolf: legs spread, cunt stretched wide, fucked open on Anna's fist.

The first orgasm rolled through him fast, like his body had been waiting. He sobbed as it hit, cunt spasming wildly around her. Slick gushed out around her wrist, running down to her knuckles and his thighs.

But Anna didn't stop.

She eased out just an inch, then pushed back in, harder now, deeper. His hips bucked, a cry ripping from his throat.

"Too much?" she asked, breath hot against his thigh.

"No--no," he gasped. "More."

--Anna--" he whimpered.

"I know," she murmured, kissing his knee. "You can take it."

She kept going--fist plunging in and out with that same unhurried rhythm, her other hand stroking his belly, his thigh, grounding him. His moans turned helpless, high and wrecked. His clit twitched, untouched but flushed dark pink, every thrust deep inside him sparking more pleasure.

One of the onlookers groaned out loud, fisting their cock, eyes fixed on Wolf's cunt as Anna slid in again--twisting this time.

That broke him.

He sobbed as his second orgasm tore through him, louder, messier. His whole body locked up, then buckled. He clutched at Anna's forearm as he came, wet and raw and too full of feeling.

Still, she didn't stop.

She kissed his calf, then pushed back in deeper, slower, her wrist working through every aftershock. He whined, overstimulated and shaking, but didn't tell her to stop. Didn't want her to.

"I've got you," she murmured.

The crowd watched, some with parted lips, others openly moaning as they touched themselves, transfixed by how wrecked and gorgeous he was. The wet sounds of Anna's hand fucking into him echoed soft and obscene through the air.

His body started to tremble again--high, sharp breaths, thighs clenching, cunt pulsing.

"I--fuck--I'm gonna--again--"

"I know, baby," she whispered. "Come for me."

The third orgasm hit harder than the rest. His mouth fell open in a silent cry before sound caught in his throat--a ragged, drawn-out moan as his cunt clenched again and again around her fist. Slick poured out of him, drenching her wrist, pooling beneath him. He shuddered and twitched, held open and helpless, completely consumed.

Anna slowed only then, easing her hand out gently, wrist gleaming with slick. The crowd murmured with awe and arousal, a few of them still stroking themselves, breathless.

She leaned over him, brushing damp hair from his forehead, kissing his cheek.

"You're unreal," she whispered.

And Wolf, glassy-eyed and glowing, just smiled--wrecked and beautiful.

They melted into each other, bodies tangled, skin sticking where it touched. The people around them lingered for a moment, then someone quietly closed the curtain, giving them space--privacy for the softness that followed.

Anna cradled Wolf against her chest, her arms wrapped tight around his back, one hand gently stroking down his spine. He clung to her just as fiercely, grounding himself in her warmth, in the press of her lips to his temple.

They stayed like that, breathing each other in, until their mouths found each other again. The kiss was slow, deep, unrushed. A thank you. A promise.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was hoarse and tender. "You want me to return the favor?"

She smiled, brushing the hair back from his face. "Later," she whispered. "This was your moment."

They dressed quietly, helping each other into their clothes, stealing little touches as they straightened themselves out. Wolf's legs trembled when he stood, and Anna didn't miss the satisfied smirk that curled across his lips.

Hand in hand, they stepped out into the hallway, blinking at the throb of music and colored lights once more.

On their way back toward the booth, they passed one of the open rooms--and froze.

Inside, Tristan was mid-thrust, bent forward on a padded bench, moaning without shame as someone fucked him hard from behind. His partner from the dance floor earlier was on their knees in front of him, their back arched, taking Tristan's cock eagerly. His hands gripped their hips as he fucked into them in time with the rhythm pounding through the club.

His shirt was long gone, his skin flushed and glistening, every part of him on display--open, hungry, electric.

Anna and Wolf lingered in the doorway for a moment, wrapped in each other, watching. There was something gorgeous about it, something raw and untouchable. Wolf's arm slipped around Anna's waist, and she leaned back into him with a soft hum of approval.

Then, as if wordlessly agreeing they'd seen enough, they moved on.

They found their friends back in the booth where the night had started--sprawled out, laughing, still high and glowing. Drinks had been refilled. Someone was rolling another joint. The music throbbed beneath it all, a heartbeat that hadn't slowed once.

Anna and Wolf slid back into the mix like they'd never left. Wolf leaned back into the cushions, head spinning, lips still tasting like Anna's kiss.

"Okay, but where the fuck have you two been?" someone demanded as Anna and Wolf slid into the booth.

"Gone forever," another chimed in, faux dramatic, tossing a pillow at Anna's lap.

Wolf chuckled, settling in beside her as she draped herself over him without hesitation, curling into his side like he was a favorite hoodie. "We just went for a walk," he said smoothly, reaching for the nearest joint.

"Oh sure," said the femme with the rhinestone brows, snatching it back before he could take a hit. "You two disappear for like an hour, and we're supposed to believe you were sightseeing?"

"Exactly," Anna said, eyes sparkling as she plucked the joint from the femme's fingers and handed it to Wolf herself. "Beautiful views."

There was a chorus of groans and laughter.

"Did you see Tristan on your little tour?" someone else asked, craning their neck toward the club's hallway. "We lost him after round two of shots and slutty dancing."

Anna exchanged a look with Wolf and gave a knowing smirk. "Let's just say... he's in very good hands."

"Ugh, of course he is," said the bleached-browed femme, tipping their head back with a dreamy sigh. "I love that for him."

"Love that for us," someone else added. "Keeps the energy high."

As the laughter settled, someone across the couch narrowed their eyes playfully at Wolf and Anna. "Okay but for real... what is going on between you two?" they asked, leaning forward like they were about to be let in on a delicious secret. "Is this a thing? A vacation fling? Are we getting emotionally attached? Should I be planning the wedding?"

"Do not plan a wedding," Anna said with a laugh, but the way she looked at Wolf--eyes soft, smile crooked--betrayed a little more than she let on.

Wolf shrugged one shoulder and exhaled a lazy cloud of smoke. "I don't know. We're just... seeing where it goes."

"Exploring," Anna echoed, brushing a thumb along his jaw.

"Oh god," someone muttered, clutching their chest. "You're hot and emotionally available? Disgusting. I'm leaving."

They didn't move an inch, of course.

The conversation meandered from there--someone started telling a story about getting kicked out of a queer sauna in Berlin, someone else was braiding neon extensions into their friend's hair. Another joint made the rounds, followed by a round of sugary shots someone had somehow smuggled from the bar.

Wolf leaned back, a little dazed but warm in his bones. The press of Anna's body against his side felt perfect. The low hum of laughter, the throb of the music, the familiar tangle of limbs and voices--it was messy and loud and alive.

And he was in it.

Exactly where he wanted to be.

It wasn't said outright, but somewhere between the laughter and the third--or maybe fourth--round of joints, a quiet consensus settled between them. The kind that comes with heavy limbs and secret smiles and hands that kept wandering under the table, no matter how many times they tried to play it cool.

Anna was halfway through telling a story about an ex who cried during sex in a way that was too poetic when her hand found Wolf's thigh again. He didn't flinch--just looked at her with that same half-lidded hunger he'd been carrying since the playroom.

Someone across the booth raised a brow. "You two gonna fuck again or should we keep talking about emotionally devastated dick?"

Wolf laughed, slow and low. "We might be done for the night."

Anna looked at him sideways. "Are we?"

He shrugged, smiling.

That was enough.

They said their goodbyes amid a flurry of hugs, lingering touches, and whispered "you better tell me everything"s. No one seemed surprised when they announced they were heading back to Tristan's early--if anything, a few people looked a little smug about it.

The streets were quiet when they stepped outside, the buzz of the night wrapping around them like a blanket. Anna leaned into him as they walked, her fingers laced with his, steps slow, the high finally mellowing into something warm and syrupy.

Back at Tristan's apartment, the city twinkled beyond the windows like it was showing off just for them. The dogs, Maia and Bo, greeted them sleepily, tails wagging as they padded back to the guest room alongside their humans.

The room was perfect. Not in a sterile, catalog kind of way--but in the way everything Tristan touched always was. Cozy and intentional. Warm, layered textures, soft lighting, and a big bed that looked like it had never known discomfort. The adjoining bathroom had golden hardware and Moroccan tiles, warm and inviting. French doors opened onto a small private balcony, where the cool night breeze drifted in just enough to make the room feel alive.

Anna dropped her bag and toed off her boots, stretching with a soft groan before turning to Wolf, who was standing there, quietly taking it all in.

She stepped into his space, arms draping loosely over his shoulders. "Looks like we have a whole world to ourselves tonight."

Wolf's hands slid to her waist, pulling her in until their bodies aligned. "Yeah. And we don't even have to be quiet."

Maia flopped onto the rug with a sigh, Bo curling beside her like a sleepy guardian.

Anna glanced at the dogs and laughed softly. "Perfect audience."

He kissed her, slow and unhurried. "Perfect everything."

They looked at each other like two people who'd stumbled off a cliff without even noticing the fall--just the thrill of weightlessness, of landing in something that felt like home. The night outside was quiet, city humming low beneath them, but inside the room, it was just skin and breath and want.

Wolf stepped in closer, hands reverent as they slid under the hem of Anna's shirt. He kissed her--softly at first, then deeper, pressing their mouths together like he couldn't get close enough. His fingers traced the curve of her waist, following the path of the black tribal tattoos that ran like a river down her side. He paused to admire them, lips brushing over the ink like a prayer.

"I've wanted to touch you like this all night," he murmured, eyes hooded with lust and something gentler underneath.

Anna exhaled shakily. "Then do it."

He peeled her shirt off inch by inch, fingertips grazing the warm skin he revealed. Every new sliver of her body earned a kiss, a compliment whispered against her skin--so fucking beautiful, I love your hips, you drive me insane. Her bra dropped to the floor next, then her pants, each piece discarded slowly, deliberately. He was unwrapping her like something sacred.

When she was finally bare beneath his touch, he guided her to the bed, climbing on top of her with careful weight. Their bodies aligned easily, heat meeting heat. Wolf ground down on her, slow and firm, the friction already too much and not nearly enough.

They panted into each other's mouths, lips never parting for more than a second. Tongues tangling, breath shared. It was messy and sweet, like neither could bear to let go.

Wolf kissed his way down to her neck, suckling just under her jaw until she gasped, then lower, trailing love marks over her collarbone. When he reached her breasts, he took his time--tongue and lips wrapped around one nipple, then the other, lavishing them with long, lingering attention.

Anna writhed beneath him, gasping, "Fuck, Wolf--God--it's like you're sucking my clit."

He moaned into her skin at that, the sound vibrating through her nipple. "Yeah?" he whispered, flicking it with his tongue. "You like that?"

"Too much," she whimpered, shaking under him.

He kissed his way down again, hand sliding over the soft curve of her belly. He parted her thighs and dipped his fingers between her folds, just enough to find her slick. He groaned when he felt it--how ready she already was--and brought his fingers to her clit, circling slow and gentle.

"Let me make you come," he said, voice low, thick with need. "Let me feel you shake for me."

And with his mouth still open on her chest, and his fingers slipping into just the right rhythm, they melted into the most sensual fuck either of them had ever known--delicate and intense, slow and all-consuming, like they were mapping each other from the inside out.

Wolf moved, needing more--needing them. Still deep inside Anna, he shifted his body, sliding one thigh between hers so his hand inside her pressed harder against her clit, his palm grinding into her with each flex of her hips. Her gasp told him she felt it too--more pressure, more heat.

Then he lifted his other leg, swinging it over one of hers so he could hover his dripping cunt above her thigh. Skin to skin, slick to slick, he rocked into her, his folds dragging wet over the softness of her leg. The friction made his breath catch.

He caught her hand, brought it between his legs, guiding her fingers down to his soaked opening.

Anna looked at him, wide-eyed, lips parted in awe. "You want it too?" she murmured.

He nodded, panting. "Four. Please."

Without breaking eye contact, she slid her fingers inside him--slow and deliberate, feeling how ready he was, how his cunt clenched around her immediately. Her other leg shifted, lifting slightly so her hand was pressed snug between his heat and her thigh, trapping it there.

Now they were locked together--fucking into each other, grinding and pulsing and soaking one another's skin. Her hand inside him, his hand inside her, every move pressing their clits against palms, thighs, skin.

"God," he moaned, watching her face twist with pleasure. "Your pussy feels so fucking good. So full."

"You're soaking me," she gasped, "you're so fucking wet--so tight--"

Their hips moved faster, bodies chasing the next wave together. They kissed between moans, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, both of them whining now, high and needy.

"Gonna come," he gasped against her mouth.

"Ohhhn--me too," she whispered back.

They did--bodies shuddering, muscles locking tight, each of them coming hard around the other's hand pushing themselves deeper on each other. The sound of it--wet and messy and loud--mixed with their cries, the rhythm of their hips never breaking, not until the waves of release finally softened into trembling aftershocks.

Their foreheads touched. Breathing heavy. Slick, full, wrecked--and completely in sync.

They cleaned up just enough to slip under the covers, still flushed and glowing, hands brushing, laughter soft and sleepy between them. Then they curled into each other, skin against skin, limbs tangled, hearts finally steady.

But sleep didn't come right away.

They stayed up for hours, talking in hushed voices and giggling like teenagers. Sharing stories they hadn't yet told, replaying the night's moments with blushes and smirks. Wolf kept tracing the lines of Anna's tattoos with the tip of his finger, and Anna kept stealing kisses between their words, like she couldn't help herself.

At some point, their hands found each other under the covers again--just to hold this time, warm and close.

And finally, when the night had quieted and their bodies had settled, they melted into stillness. Wrapped in each other's arms, they let exhaustion take them, slow and quiet, until sleep folded over them like a blanket.

And just like that--they were gone. Peaceful. Drifting. Together.