When Fidelity Sleeps Pt. 04

Author's Note

This is an erotic story.

That should be clear by now--but let me say it again:

This is a story about desire, in its many messy, electrifying, unapologetic forms.

Yes, it's told through the lens of relationships, emotion, and daily life. But at its core, this story was built to explore the spaces where fantasy and reality collide--where inhibition melts, and where choices are made not for safety, but for sensation.

If you find yourself here expecting moral purity, emotional predictability, or traditional romance arcs, you may want to pause.

This story includes themes of cheating, group sex, domination, emotional conflict, and social pressure--

If those elements disturb you, or if you're reading with the hope that everything stays neatly in place...

This probably isn't for you. And that's okay.

There are other stories that will take better care of your heart.

But if you're here to feel--everything--

To question, to ache, to burn, to let go...

This story is told in chapters, each titled to give you a clear idea of what's ahead.

Feel free to skip around.

Follow the story in order--or dive straight into the moments that speak to you.

Curiosity is welcome here.

This story begins with the emotional and relational foundation between the characters--how they met, what shaped them, and what brought them together. But if you're here for the fire, the tension, the breaking of limits--

Start from Chapter 7.

Note: The space between lines is intentional. It's meant to slow you down--to let the story breathe, and to let you breathe with it.

Chapter 14 Last Day

The scent of coffee and warm pastries filled the air as soft morning light poured through the tall windows of the suite.

The living room looked like a post-party dream -- champagne flutes on the table, a gorgeous brunch spread delivered to the room: fluffy pancakes, fresh fruit, eggs, avocado toast, mimosas, and more.

Gretta, Nicole, and Gaby were sprawled around the breakfast table in pajamas and robes, hair messy, bare feet tucked under them, still glowing from the wildness of the night before.

"She's still sleeping?" Nicole asked, sipping her mimosa.

Gretta smirked. "She probably needed it. She was so wound up, I thought she was gonna explode before she hit the pillow."

Gaby stretched her legs. "If I'd been that turned on all night and didn't get my release... I wouldn't have slept at all."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "You think she...?"

Gretta snorted. "If she didn't, she's a saint. But I say she absolutely handled it."

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open.

And Pauline stepped out, wrapped in a soft white robe, her hair a bit wild, her eyes still heavy -- but her lips curled in a sleepy, satisfied smile.

"There she is." Gaby grinned. "Scarlett makes her grand return."

Pauline laughed under her breath. "Don't call me that."

Nicole lifted her mimosa. "Too late. It's your alter ego now."

Gretta scooted over to make space at the table. "We've got your favorite coffee. Sit. Eat. Spill everything."

Pauline padded over, poured herself a cup, and sat with a soft sigh, the robe slipping slightly off one shoulder.

"So," Gaby said, leaning in with a mischievous smile, "what are you gonna do with all that Scarlett money?"

Pauline blinked. "Oh right. I won five thousand dollars."

Nicole gasped. "You forgot?!"

Pauline laughed, stirring her coffee. "I mean, not really. But everything about last night feels like a dream."

Gretta leaned forward. "You need to spend some of it today. No excuses."

Pauline raised her cup. "You're right. I don't know what I'll do with all of it, but something fun is definitely happening."

They all clinked their glasses -- coffee, juice, and champagne.

"To Scarlett's cash fund!"

Gaby grinned. "And to the last full day in Vegas."

As the last pancake was devoured and coffee mugs were refilled one final time, Gretta sat up straighter, clapping her hands softly.

"Alright, ladies," she said with a grin, "here's the plan."

Pauline raised an eyebrow, smiling. "You have a plan?"

"I always have a plan," Gretta replied proudly. "First: spa. We all need a massage after last night. My legs are still trembling."

Nicole laughed. "Your legs? Girl, I need a soul massage."

"After that," Gretta continued, "shopping. We earned a little splurge. Or a lot."

Gaby nodded. "I vote we spend Pauline's winnings."

Pauline gave her a mock glare. "We'll share my winnings."

Gretta leaned back with a smug smile. "And then... tonight is wide open. Whatever we feel like. No pressure, no plan. Just vibes."

Nicole grinned. "That's dangerous."

Gaby raised her mimosa. "That's Vegas."

They finished the last bites of breakfast, laughing as they cleared plates and grabbed their things.

Pauline stood first, tying the belt of her robe and stretching with a satisfied sigh. "Okay, spa time sounds like heaven."

"Let's get ready," Gretta said, already heading toward her suitcase.

The next half hour was full of warm sunlight and half-dressed chaos -- girls moving in and out of the bathroom, brushing hair, picking outfits, spritzing perfume, stealing lip gloss.

The suite buzzed with music and laughter.

Pauline slipped into a white sundress with gold sandals, her skin still glowing, eyes lighter now. Gaby wore a pastel romper, Gretta threw on oversized sunglasses and a linen set, and Nicole twirled in a flowy skirt that barely covered her thighs.

When they were all ready, they grabbed their bags, tossed on sunglasses, and headed for the elevator.

inglés:

The spa smelled like eucalyptus, lavender, and warm stone.

Soft music played overhead as Pauline, Gretta, Gaby, and Nicole sank into white robes and matching slippers, their voices hushed, their movements slower.

Steam floated lazily in the air. The world outside melted away.

An hour passed between deep tissue massages, hot towels, and cucumber water.

No one spoke much -- just soft giggles when someone moaned a little too loud on the massage table, or when Gretta whispered, "Okay, I think I just fell in love with my masseur."

Pauline lay still in the quiet, eyes closed, body finally loosened from head to toe. For the first time since arriving in Vegas, she felt completely weightless.

When they stepped back into the changing room, cheeks flushed and skin glowing, Gretta grinned. "Alright, ladies... ready to blow some money?"

Nicole raised her brows. "Let's go make bad financial decisions."

Pauline smiled. "Scarlett would be proud."

The mall was cool and elegant, lined with designer storefronts, glowing displays, and racks of temptation.

They moved from one boutique to another -- trying on dresses, sunglasses, stilettos -- bursting into laughter when Gretta tried to model a sequined jumpsuit and nearly tripped on the carpet.

Nicole danced around in a red silk slip, twirling in front of the mirrors.

Gaby picked up a tiny dress and said, "This could work... if I never breathe again."

Then they reached the boutique with black marble floors, velvet curtains, and mannequins wrapped in silk and lace.

A sign on the window read:

"For the honeymoon..."

Gretta turned with a wicked smile. "We're going in."

Inside, the lighting was soft and golden.

Delicate lace in every shade hung from racks like lingerie-shaped fantasies -- garters, bodysuits, transparent nightgowns.

"Bride first," Nicole said, already pulling a few hangers.

They handed Pauline a mix of sheer white lace, satin ivory, and one piece that was barely there at all.

"Try them," Gaby grinned. "You don't get out of this one."

Pauline rolled her eyes, blushing. "Fine. But if I come out and you're all staring, I'm blaming the champagne."

Gretta waved her toward the changing room. "Please. We've seen your pussy grind a pole. This is nothing."

Minutes later, the curtain pulled back.

And Pauline stepped out in the first piece -- a sheer, high-cut white lace bodysuit with an open front tied only with a satin ribbon across her tit. Her tits were barely held in place, the lace hugging her waist like a whisper. The back dipped low, exposing the curve of her ass, framed perfectly by the delicate strings.

The room went silent.

Then Nicole let out a breath. "Jesus."

Gaby grinned. "James is going to die."

Gretta stood and circled her like a stylist. "Turn around. Slowly."

Pauline obeyed -- already flushed and breathing heavier, her pussy slick, her body reacting to their gazes.

The mirror behind her only made it worse.

She could see herself.

See how the lace clung to her wetness.

How her nipple pushed through the sheer fabric.

How her tits bounced slightly with every tiny movement.

She shivered.

"This one's dangerous," Nicole said, reaching to fix the bow but brushing her tit instead.

Pauline gasped softly.

Gretta raised a brow. "You okay?"

"I'm--" she laughed, voice shaking. "I'm getting turned on. This fabric is... too much."

"You mean too little," Gaby smirked.

Pauline looked back at herself in the mirror.

And for a second, Scarlett came back.

Her thighs pressed together.

Her breath quickened.

Her fingers twitched at her side.

And her friends watched -- not mocking, not judging -- but eyes dark, fascinated, aroused.

Nicole stepped close, whispering in her ear.

"If you touch yourself right now, we won't stop you."

Pauline trembled.

But she turned quickly, laughing, hiding her face behind her hands. "Nope. Not here. Not now."

Gretta snorted. "You're lucky this isn't the dressing room at the club."

They all laughed again, and Pauline slipped back behind the curtain, her pussy soaked, her heart pounding.

Bags in hand, the girls stepped out of the boutique glowing -- and not just from the champagne.

Pauline had chosen three pieces: a delicate white lace set with garters, a deep red silk bodysuit with a plunging front, and a sheer black robe with feathers around the sleeves.

But she wasn't the only one.

Nicole had picked a navy blue strappy bra with matching panties that left almost nothing to the imagination.

Gaby grabbed a black mesh teddy with zippers in places that made them all gasp.

And Gretta? A harness set in metallic gold. Because of course.

When Pauline pulled out the cash from her Scarlett winnings, they all cheered.

"To spending like a stripper!" Nicole laughed, clinking her shopping bag with Pauline's.

"To shopping for orgasms!" Gaby added.

They high-fived as they walked down the mall corridor, heels clicking and bags swinging from their arms like trophies.

Then they passed a store with neon pink lights and a display window full of... suggestions.

Dildos.

Ropes.

Lube.

Feathered paddles.

A mannequin in a full latex catsuit with a ball gag.

They stopped.

No one said anything at first.

Then Gretta turned slowly. "... We're going in."

The bell chimed as they entered.

It was darker inside, but warm -- lit by colored LEDs and soft music. Every shelf was an invitation, every corner a dare.

They wandered like girls in a candy store made of fantasies.

"Holy shit," Nicole whispered, picking up a vibrator shaped like a tongue. "This moves better than my ex."

Gaby laughed. "That's not saying much."

Gretta held up a box of silicone anal beads. "This looks like it could double as kitchen decor."

Pauline's eyes landed on a display of cock-shaped dildos, in every size and color.

Her pussy throbbed just from looking at them.

She wandered farther back and found a row of lace blindfolds, cuffs, and something labeled "tease kit."

She picked up a bottle of warming lube and turned it over.

Nicole appeared beside her. "You thinking of James?"

Pauline smiled. "I'm thinking of surprising him."

They all ended up at the register with a small but potent collection:

● A remote-controlled vibrator for Pauline.

● A black satin blindfold for Gaby.

● A set of nipple clamps Nicole couldn't stop playing with.

● And Gretta? A double-ended dildo.

"Vegas," she said, winking at the cashier, "is for experimenting."

The cashier didn't blink. "You'll love the flexibility on that one."

They left the store howling with laughter, bags now slightly heavier and minds racing.

"Okay," Pauline said, breathless, "we can't top that. Let's go back before we end up buying a swing."

Gretta grinned. "We still have tonight."

The suite door clicked open, and the girls spilled in like a wave -- laughing, arms full of bags, cheeks flushed from sun, champagne, and too many inappropriate jokes.

"Drop everything," Nicole groaned, tossing her shopping haul on the couch. "I need to be horizontal."

Pauline carried in her lacy treasures with one hand and the little pink bag from the toy store in the other. She caught her reflection in the mirror by the entrance -- glowing skin, messy hair, bare legs under her sundress -- and smiled to herself.

They kicked off their shoes, unzipped dresses halfway, and collapsed onto the plush furniture.

Gretta cranked the music from her phone, and soon they were half dancing, half stretching on the carpet -- showing off new bras, fake-strutting in heels, laughing uncontrollably.

Pauline dropped onto a cushion, eyes closed, still smiling.

Then Gretta's phone rang.

She fished it from her bag, glanced at the screen, and her grin changed to a mischievous smirk.

"It's James."

Pauline opened one eye, her stomach fluttering.

Gretta walked over, holding the phone out with two fingers like it was delicate glass. "He's all yours, Pauline."

Pauline sat up, rolled her eyes playfully, and took the phone.

"Hey," she said, her voice softening instantly.

The room around her blurred into background -- music, giggles, rustling bags -- but all she heard now was his voice.

Pauline stood near the window, the phone pressed to her ear, sunlight casting a soft glow on her cheek.

"Hey," James said on the other end, his voice warm, familiar.

She smiled immediately. "Hey you."

"I didn't want anything, really," he said. "Just... I missed you."

Her heart melted a little. "I miss you too."

She could still hear her friends laughing in the background, the sound of shopping bags being opened, the soft beat of music. She turned away slightly, giving herself a little pocket of quiet.

"I've been thinking about you all day," James continued.

Pauline sat on the edge of the bed, fingers twisting the hem of her dress. "I've been thinking about you too. Just... mixed in with spa time, too many mimosas, a lot of lace... and maybe some questionable purchases."

James chuckled. "That sounds dangerous."

"It's been wild," she admitted, her voice lower now. "More than I expected. I've kind of... let go."

There was a short pause on the line.

"Good," he said simply.

She blinked. "Yeah?"

"I mean... it's your bachelorette," James continued. "You're supposed to let go. Go crazy. Push things a little."

She laughed softly, unsure. "You make it sound like I should cross a line."

Another pause.

Then James said, "If you do... I won't ask. And I won't judge."

Pauline froze, lips parting slightly.

"Just... enjoy it," he added, quieter now. "Come back to me full of memories."

She didn't know what to say for a moment.

Her pussy pulsed faintly. Her heart fluttered.

"I... thank you," she said softly, stunned by how calm and open he sounded. "That means more than you know."

He smiled on the other end. She could hear it.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

They said goodbye.

And as Pauline lowered the phone, she stared out the window for a long moment...

When Pauline stepped out of the bedroom, the first thing she saw was lace. Everywhere.

Nicole was spinning slowly in a sheer navy set, her tits bouncing slightly under the soft fabric.

Gaby was lounging on the couch in her black mesh teddy, zippers half-open, her legs draped dramatically over the cushions.

And Gretta?

Gretta stood in the center of the room, posing in her metallic gold harness set like a goddess ready for battle -- or something far dirtier.

"About time," Nicole said, turning with a smirk. "We figured you'd never come back."

Pauline blinked. "What is happening in here?"

Gaby grinned. "Lingerie fashion show. We got bored. You missed the part where I almost fell trying to twerk."

Gretta raised a glass. "You're next, bride."

Pauline laughed, cheeks flushing. "Let me survive the emotional whiplash of that phone call first."

The room stilled just a little.

Gretta tilted her head. "Oh?"

Pauline sat down, smoothing the hem of her robe over her thighs.

"James called. Just to say he missed me."

Nicole smiled. "Aww."

"But then..." Pauline hesitated. "He said something weird."

"Weird how?" Gaby leaned forward.

"He told me I should let go. That it's my bachelorette. That if I... crossed a line, he wouldn't ask. Or judge."

The silence hung in the air for half a second.

Then Gretta's eyes lit up.

Like a switch had flipped.

"Oh my god," she whispered, standing straighter. "He just gave you a free pass."

Pauline looked unsure. "It didn't sound like--"

Gretta held up a finger. "No, no, no. It absolutely sounded like that."

Nicole raised her eyebrows. "Wait. Is this turning into a mission?"

Gaby leaned back, arms behind her head. "This night just got way more interesting."

Gretta turned, eyes gleaming. "We are not letting this go to waste."

Pauline stood slowly, her cheeks still warm from the conversation with James -- and maybe even more from the way her friends were looking at her now.

"You know what?" she said, lifting her chin. "Give me five minutes."

The girls howled in approval.

Five minutes later, she stepped back into the room.

Wearing the sheer white lace bodysuit with the satin bow at her tit, her tits perfectly framed, her curves glowing in the soft light. Her robe trailed open behind her like she had just descended from heaven -- or something far more sinful.

"Yesss, Scarlett!" Nicole cheered.

Gaby jumped up, clapping. "Get on the table. Let's go!"

Pauline laughed, but the music was already rising, and suddenly she was moving -- hips swaying, arms loose, hair wild as she let the energy take her.

She danced.

Not for them, not for James, not even for herself.

She danced for the fire still simmering in her pussy. For the power. For the girl who had won the crowd and forgotten how to say no to pleasure.

They all danced with her, laughing, tossing pillows, spinning in their lingerie like a private fantasy come to life.

Later, the music faded.

They collapsed on the bed and floor, sipping champagne straight from the bottle, makeup smudged and cheeks flushed.

Then Gretta sat up suddenly.

"Oh, right. I forgot to tell you."

They turned toward her, breathless.

"I made a reservation. Dinner. Ten o'clock. Private table. One of the most exclusive spots in town."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "How exclusive?"

"They're flying in truffle oil from Italy just for us."

Gaby narrowed her eyes. "Okay, you're being dramatic."

Gretta grinned. "Maybe. But after dinner... we're going to a bar I picked. Very specific bar."

Pauline blinked. "What kind of bar?"

Gretta just smiled.

"One where we get to test your luck again."

Pauline's pulse jumped.

Nicole leaned in, her voice a whisper. "Scarlett's final challenge?"

Gretta raised her glass. "Exactly that."

The suite was quiet now, filled with low music, the hum of the air conditioning, and the soft rustle of fabric as the girls got ready.

Pauline stood barefoot by the mirror, slipping into a sleek white mini dress that hugged her body like second skin. Her tits lifted, her back open, legs long under delicate gold heels.

Gretta wore a backless black number with a slit high enough to cause accidents.

Nicole opted for deep burgundy satin with a plunging neckline and a choker around her neck.

Gaby wore emerald green, sheer on the sides, with delicate straps tracing her shoulders like whispers.

Perfume filled the air -- seductive, floral, a little dangerous.

Lipsticks were shared. Earrings borrowed. Phones charged.

"Final night," Gretta said as she clasped a gold bracelet on Pauline's wrist. "Let's make it matter."

They stepped into the limo just after 9:45 p. m., a city of light waiting for them beyond the tinted windows.

The restaurant was tucked into a luxury hotel, behind a private velvet rope and past two sleek hosts who already knew their names.

Their table was set in a corner booth with gold trim, candlelight, and a view of the Strip.

Champagne was poured before they even ordered.

And soon, the table was covered in fresh oysters, seared scallops, truffle pasta, and dark chocolate soufflé.

The girls laughed, told half-remembered stories from the club night, and toasted every ridiculous moment.

Pauline felt lighter than she had in weeks -- a bride on the edge of something bigger, surrounded by the only people who knew every version of her.

And maybe... encouraging a new one.

Gretta raised her glass one last time as the plates were cleared.

"To this week," she said.

Nicole: "To Pauline."

Gaby: "To being bad... just enough."

And Pauline, smiling, heart beating harder:

"To the night still ahead."

They clinked glasses.

The limo was already waiting.

Outside, the driver opened the door, and Gretta turned to the group with a grin.

"Next stop... Velvet Room."

Inside the limo, the mood was soft and electric -- the quiet hum of the road beneath them, the golden glow of the cabin lights, and the faint sound of music pulsing from the driver's speakers.

The girls sipped from their champagne flutes, legs crossed, dresses shining like silk over smooth skin.

Pauline leaned her head against the seat, eyes closed for just a second, letting it all soak in.

Then Gretta shifted in her seat, reached into her clutch, and pulled out a small, discreet bottle.

She held it up with a mischievous smile.

"Okay. One last thing."

Nicole raised a brow. "That look on your face is dangerous."

Gretta unscrewed the cap and held out four little pills, setting one in each girl's palm.

"No questions," she said. "Just trust me. It's to... relax the vibe."

Pauline stared at hers.

"It's not gonna make me see unicorns, right?"

Gaby grinned. "Unless they're naked and carrying whips."

They all laughed -- soft, breathy, slightly nervous.

But one by one, they clinked the pills together like glasses and tossed them back, swallowed with champagne.

"To whatever the night wants from us," Gretta said.

The limo curved down a private drive, slowing.

Outside, just ahead, a sign glowed in deep red letters:

VELVET ROOM.

Chapter 15 The fling

The Velvet Room was darker than expected.

Not dim -- seductive.

The lighting was low and red, the walls velvet and gold, the music deep and slow like a heartbeat. The bar glowed in the distance, and tucked in the corners were private booths surrounded by sheer curtains and candlelight.

A hostess led them silently past the other guests, heels clicking against the polished black floor, until they reached a private table in the back -- wide, cushioned, with a low crystal-lit table and a bottle already chilling in the center.

And waiting there, leaning back with a glass in hand, was Val.

"Look who made it," she purred, standing to greet them. She wore a sleek black dress that fit like liquid, her hair pulled back, lips dark red.

But she wasn't alone.

Three men sat with her.

Two were tall, black, built like they lived in the gym, one with locs pulled into a band, the other bald with a diamond stud in his ear and a slow, knowing smile.

The third was white, blonde, broad-shouldered, with a sharp jawline and ink crawling up one arm under the cuff of his dress shirt.

All three looked up as the girls approached -- and smiled.

Nicole leaned over to Pauline, whispering, "You're welcome."

Pauline blinked. "What?"

Nicole just winked.

Gretta gave Val a look. "You've been very busy."

Val kissed her cheek. "You'll thank me later."

Introductions flowed.

The guy with the locs was Malik.

The bald one: Tyrell.

The blonde with the ink: Ethan.

They stood, shook hands, kissed cheeks -- confident, smooth, observant.

The first round of shots arrived.

The table was already scattered with half-empty glasses, melted ice, and glistening bottles. The beat of the music throbbed slow and deep beneath them like a second pulse.

The air was thick now -- with perfume, sweat, champagne, and something deeper. Desire, maybe. Or permission.

Whatever those little pink pills had been...

They were working.

Pauline could feel it in her skin -- every inch alive, electric. Her legs shifted subtly under the table, the silk of her dress brushing her thighs in the most dangerous way.

Across from her, Val was straddling Nicole, laughing against her neck.

Their hands tangled in each other's hair. Nicole's dress had slipped off one shoulder. Val's fingers traced the bare skin there with lazy circles, and Nicole wasn't stopping her.

No one was stopping anything.

Malik was at Pauline's side now, one arm draped along the back of the booth behind her. His voice was low, his cologne rich and warm.

"You've been quiet," he murmured near her ear. "Thinking too much?"

She looked up, her lips parted slightly, her breath caught.

"I'm just... soaking it in."

His smile was slow. "You don't need to soak anything in. Just let it out."

She shivered.

Tyrell had leaned closer to Gaby, whispering something that made her laugh and slap his chest -- but she didn't move away. Her fingers played with the edge of her glass, her eyes never leaving his.

Gretta was deep in conversation with Ethan, but her legs had crossed tighter, and her mouth curled every time his eyes dropped to her cleavage.

The lights in the Velvet Room had dimmed even more, the music slowing to a pulsing rhythm that seemed to match their breath.

In the corner of the booth, Gaby was no longer just talking to Tyrell -- her legs were straddling one of his, her dress bunched up around her hips, her pussy grinding slowly against his thigh.

Her hands were on his chest, sliding up to his shoulders.

His hands were lower -- one gripping her ass, the other pressed against her lower back, guiding her movement.

Her lips brushed against his ear as she moved -- a soft, breathy moan slipping from her mouth with every subtle grind.

She wasn't holding back.

She was wet, aching, breathless.

Tyrell leaned in, kissing her neck, his voice low. "You want to keep going?"

She nodded, biting her lip -- but didn't answer with words.

Just moved harder against him, her pussy soaking the fabric of her panties as her body twitched gently against his thigh.

She gasped, quietly, riding the wave just at the edge... before pulling back with a dazed smile and flushed cheeks.

Meanwhile, the rest of the table had dissolved into a haze of low moans, slow kisses, and wandering hands.

Pauline's legs were pressed against Malik's, his fingers tracing the inside of her thigh. She wasn't stopping him -- in fact, she'd leaned her head back against the booth, lips parted, eyelids heavy.

Nicole and Val were still tangled in each other, laughing into open-mouthed kisses, one hand sneaking under the hem of the other's dress.

Gretta and Ethan had disappeared from the table for a few minutes... and returned with swollen lips and darker eyes.

Then Val stood, adjusting her dress, her voice smooth but commanding.

"Okay, before someone gets naked in public..."

Everyone looked up, breathing heavier than before.

She grinned.

"I have a surprise."

Gretta raised a brow. "You're full of those."

Val walked over and poured one last round of shots.

"Elías has a private event room upstairs -- full view of the Strip, floor-to-ceiling windows, total privacy. Normally reserved for clients or, you know, secret deals."

She looked straight at Pauline.

"But I told him this was something more special. And he said... enjoy it."

The girls gasped and cheered softly, exchanging wide-eyed glances.

Nicole: "You're kidding."

Gaby: "You're a queen."

Gretta: "Let's go before someone explodes right here."

They laughed, gathered their things, drinks still in hand, legs tangled, dresses disheveled, skin warm.

And followed Val.

The private suite was breathtaking.

Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped the entire room, revealing the Vegas skyline ablaze in neon and gold. The Strip below shimmered like it was breathing. The room itself was luxurious -- marble floors, velvet sofas, warm golden lights dimmed low, and a bar already stocked with everything they liked.

"Holy shit," Gretta whispered as she stepped in.

Pauline didn't even speak. Her lips parted as she took it in.

This wasn't just a room. It was a stage.

They kicked off their heels, set down their glasses, and sprawled on the couches like queens claiming a throne.

Soft music played at first -- sultry, smooth.

But then, without warning...

the lights shifted.

A deep red glow.

The music changed -- slower, harder, pulsing with beat and breath.

And the men were gone.

Pauline looked around, blinking. "Where--?"

Nicole smirked. "Just wait."

A chair was pulled into the center of the room.

Val walked past her, drink in hand, and whispered, "Take your seat, bride."

Pauline's pulse jumped.

She hesitated...

and then let herself be led to the chair, heels clicking against the floor.

She sat.

All eyes on her.

Her legs crossed.

And then the music hit.

Tyrell appeared first -- shirt open, chest gleaming, eyes locked on her.

He circled her slowly, fingers brushing her shoulder, then her throat.

Then Malik -- shirtless, pants hanging low on his hips, his gaze like fire, moving behind her, dragging fingers through her hair.

Ethan emerged last -- smirking, unbuttoning his dress shirt as he approached, letting it drop to the floor.

They surrounded her.

Moved together.

Predators. And she was the flame.

Malik dropped to one knee in front of her, hands sliding up her calves, parting her thighs just enough to make her pussy throb.

Tyrell moved behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders, massaging down to her upper arms, then sliding forward... brushing the sides of her tits through the thin fabric of her dress.

She gasped, breath shaky.

Ethan knelt beside Malik, dragging a finger up her inner thigh, stopping just before her heat.

"You good, Pauline?" he murmured.

She nodded.

But her eyes said take me.

They continued -- Malik lifted one of her legs, kissing her ankle, her knee, her thigh.

Tyrell leaned down and kissed her neck from behind, his breath sending a wave through her chest.

Ethan pressed his palm gently against her mound, over her panties, and rubbed... slowly.

Her body trembled.

Her pussy was soaked.

She couldn't move.

Didn't want to.

Hands touched her everywhere but never inside.

Lips brushed but didn't bite.

And yet her whole body screamed for more.

She was dripping, thighs twitching, lips parted, moaning softly, her hands gripping the arms of the chair like it was all that kept her grounded.

The moment Malik spread Pauline's legs and kissed the inside of her thigh, a wave of screams and laughter erupted from the couches.

"YES, BITCH!" Nicole shouted, raising her glass.

Gaby clapped like she was at a concert. "This is the best night of my life."

Gretta leaned forward, eyes wide, voice low. "You better cum on that chair, Pauline."

Pauline couldn't even respond -- she was too busy moaning softly, her head tilted back, one hand in Malik's hair as he kissed closer and closer to her pussy.

Tyrell stepped in again behind her, now shirtless, hard abs pressing against her back as he grabbed her tits from behind, kneading them through the lace.

Her nipple were rock hard, brushing against his palms as he teased her with his breath at her ear.

"You're shaking," he whispered.

"I--can't--" she tried, but couldn't finish the sentence.

He smiled.

"You're not supposed to."

Ethan dropped low, lifting the hem of her dress higher, higher, until her panties were fully exposed -- tiny, white, soaked.

He ran a finger over the outline of her lips, slow, back and forth, pussy slick and pulsing under the pressure.

Pauline gasped, her hips twitching in the chair.

She was burning. She was wet. She was seconds from begging.

And the worst part?

Her friends were cheering it on.

"LET'S GO, SCARLETT!" Nicole yelled, throwing a pillow in the air.

Gretta raised her glass. "To freedom and finger-fucking!"

Then it happened.

Malik leaned forward and kissed her over the lace.

Just once.

But firm.

And her pussy clenched so hard, her thighs jumped, her mouth opened in a silent moan.

Tyrell pressed harder against her tits, squeezing, rolling her nipple gently between his fingers.

And Ethan?

He slid one hand beneath her panties and pressed two fingers inside her.

Pauline arched, body trembling.

"F-fuck," she whispered.

The room exploded with sound.

Clapping. Screaming. Laughter.

Gaby wiped a fake tear. "My girl grew up."

Her body rocked as Ethan moved inside her, slow, deep, curling just enough to make her whimper.

Malik kissed her mouth now, tongue sliding against hers.

Tyrell sucked the side of her neck, his other hand still worshiping her breasts.

The room was electric now.

The red lights pulsed in rhythm with the deep bass echoing through the suite. The Strip glittered beyond the windows, but no one was looking outside anymore.

All eyes were on Pauline.

And the three men around her, pulling off the last of their clothes.

Malik's pants dropped, revealing thick thighs, dark skin glistening under the lights, and a cock that made Gaby gasp out loud from the sofa.

"OH my god," she said, grabbing Nicole's arm.

Tyrell followed, stepping out of his slacks like a panther--slow, intentional, completely aware of the impact. He stood tall, proud, his cock full and heavy, bobbing slightly with each movement.

"Are we even allowed to see this much?" Nicole whispered, but she was smiling like Christmas came early.

Ethan was the last. His shirt already gone, he unzipped and slid down his boxers in one move -- revealing a long, pale cock, veined and semi-hard, swelling with the energy in the room.

"Pauline's in heaven," Gretta said, raising her glass and biting her lip.

And Pauline was.

She couldn't stop trembling.

Her eyes scanned each of them -- every exposed muscle, every bulge, every gleam of sweat -- and her pussy pulsed hard, so wet it was leaking down her thighs now, her panties soaked through.

Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

She licked her lips without realizing it.

"Fuck," she whispered, almost to herself.

Malik came in close again, naked now, his cock hanging just in front of her, but not touching -- teasing.

Tyrell stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, then running them slowly down her arms, his skin hot against hers.

Ethan knelt in front, spreading her knees wider, his eyes locked on her like he could read her mind.

Pauline's hands gripped the arms of the chair.

Her body buzzed.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

And her friends?

They were loving every second.

Gretta: "She's never gonna forget this night."

Nicole: "She's never gonna walk straight again."

Gaby raised her glass. "To best friends... and thick cocks."

Everything felt like a dream.

The room. The red light. The music.

The three cocks swaying in front of her -- dark, heavy, eager. The heat between her legs wasn't just desire anymore -- it was fire, consuming, wild, demanding release.

Pauline breathed in.

And when she opened her eyes again...

Scarlett had taken over.

Her posture shifted.

She leaned back in the chair, letting her legs fall open wider, her hands gliding up her thighs, spreading her soaked panties just enough to expose her pussy to the glow of the lights.

Her voice was low, commanding.

"Well?" she said, licking her lips. "Don't make me wait."

Her friends screamed.

Gretta: "YESSS, PAULINE!"

Nicole threw a pillow in the air. "I'm so proud right now."

Gaby laughed and whispered to herself, "She's gone."

Malik stepped forward first, gripping his cock at the base, slowly stroking it as he dropped to his knees in front of her.

He leaned in and kissed her inner thigh, then her hip, then closer... brushing his lips right above her slit.

Pauline moaned softly, her hips twitching.

Tyrell came behind, his hands wrapping around her waist, lifting her slightly to slide her panties off completely.

Her pussy was glistening, dripping down her thighs.

Ethan moved in close, rubbing the head of his cock against her leg, watching her eyes.

"Say it," he whispered.

"Say what?" she panted.

"What you want."

She looked up at all three of them.

And smiled.

"I want all of you," she said, voice low.

Pauline was still at the center, flushed, glowing, and wild-eyed, surrounded by heat, hands, cocks, and worship.

But across the room, another fire had taken hold.

Val and Nicole had found each other in the corner -- low light, velvet cushions, and nothing between them but breath and skin.

Nicole sat on Val's lap, her back arched, her tits exposed, nipples brushing against the silk of Val's dress as her hands slid up into her hair.

Val moaned softly, tilting Nicole's chin up and kissing her -- deep, slow, almost reverent.

Nicole's thighs trembled.

Her pussy throbbed through her panties, soaked and needy.

Val's hand was already beneath the waistband, rubbing tight circles, her fingers gliding through wetness without hesitation.

Nicole gasped, clutching her shoulders.

"You're soaked," Val whispered.

Nicole could barely breathe. "I've wanted this since the club."

Val smiled. "You're about to get all of it."

She pushed two fingers into her pussy, slow and deep, curling inside.

Nicole cried out, her body pressing closer, her hips grinding down as her fingers gripped the back of Val's neck.

Their mouths crashed again, messy, wet, desperate.

Malik grabbed her first -- strong arms wrapping around her waist as he lifted her from the chair and carried her toward the large ottoman in the center of the room. Pauline laughed, breathless, legs wrapped around his waist, her pussy already pressed against his hard, bare cock, rubbing through her soaked panties.

He laid her down gently, but his hands weren't gentle.

They tore her dress apart, leaving her in only her lace panties and heels.

Her tits bounced, nipples already hard, begging to be touched.

Tyrell dropped beside her, kissing her stomach, dragging his tongue between her tits, up to her neck, while Ethan knelt at her feet and spread her legs wide, his fingers hooking the lace and pulling her panties down slowly.

She moaned as cool air hit her soaked skin -- her pussy swollen, dripping.

Ethan exhaled. "You're already a mess."

"Then clean me up," she said, daring him.

He dove in -- tongue flat, wide, licking her from entrance to clit.

She gasped, hips jerking. Malik took her tits in his hands, sucking one nipple, then the other, while Tyrell pressed kisses against her throat.

Three mouths.

Three sets of hands.

All worshipping her body.

She writhed under them -- legs shaking, moaning loud, fingers tangled in Malik's hair, back arching as Ethan tongued her clit, fast and relentless, fingers sliding into her pussy, stretching her wide.

"I'm gonna--fuck--I'm--!"

And then she came.

Hard.

Her legs locked, her pussy clenched around Ethan's fingers, her breath broken in gasps as waves tore through her body.

But they didn't stop.

Tyrell was already stroking his cock, thick and glistening.

Malik stood, gripping his own, rubbing it against her thigh.

Pauline barely had time to catch her breath before Ethan flipped her onto her stomach -- her ass high, legs parted, skin wet with sweat and arousal.

And Tyrell moved in behind her, placing his cock at her entrance.

"You ready, Pauline?" he growled.

She looked back at him, eyes wild.

"Don't ask," she whispered. "Just fuck me."

Pauline's body was already trembling when Tyrell grabbed her hips and lined up behind her.

His cock, thick and pulsing, pressed against her entrance -- her pussy dripping, still twitching from the last orgasm.

And then--

He slammed into her, all the way.

"FUCK--" she gasped, her hands clawing the cushion as her body rocked forward from the force.

Tyrell grunted behind her, grabbing her waist and driving into her, long and deep.

Her tits bounced with every thrust, her pussy stretched and full, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the suite.

She was already moaning uncontrollably when Malik moved to her side, his cock heavy and leaking, brushing her lips.

Pauline opened her mouth without hesitation.

And took him in.

His shaft slid between her lips, filling her mouth as Tyrell pounded her from behind. Her moans were muffled, throat tight, but she sucked him hard, drool running down her chin, her hands now wrapped around Ethan's cock, stroking him as he stood beside her.

Three men.

All hers.

Her mouth full.

Her pussy stretched.

Her soul on fire.

Tyrell grunted louder, his rhythm faltering.

"I'm gonna--fuck--"

He slammed one last time and groaned, cumming deep inside her, hot and thick, his hands gripping her ass as her pussy clenched around him, milking every drop.

Pauline's legs shook.

Her mouth released Malik with a gasp as Tyrell pulled out, breathless.

But the moment she started to breathe again--

Ethan pulled her back up, sat on the ottoman, and brought her onto his lap, guiding his cock into her pussy, still full of Tyrell's cum.

She slid down on him, moaning loud as she was filled again.

And Malik?

He stepped behind her, stroking himself, watching her body bounce on Ethan's lap, her tits shaking, her moans raw.

Pauline opened her eyes -- wild, unashamed -- and locked eyes with Malik.

"I want it all," she whispered. "Don't stop."

Ethan groaned, gripping her hips, bouncing her faster.

Malik came around again, brushing his cock against her lips.

She opened her mouth, took him deep, her moans vibrating against him as she rode one cock and sucked another, dripping, aching, desperate.

She was completely used.

"I'm--I'm--" she cried out, voice high.

Her body snapped, her pussy clenching around Ethan, her whole body jerking as she came again, harder than before.

Ethan cursed, holding her down, cumming deep inside her, groaning into her shoulder.

Malik shuddered, her lips still wrapped around him, his hands in her hair--

And he cum in her mouth, thick, hot, pulsing over her tongue.

She swallowed without hesitation, tears at the corners of her eyes, completely wrecked.

She collapsed forward against Ethan's chest, Malik's hands gently releasing her hair.

Pauline collapsed against Ethan's chest, her body still twitching, pussy leaking, lips parted, completely used, completely alive.

But she wasn't alone in her release.

From the corner, Gretta stood wide-eyed, holding her drink against her cheek like she needed to cool down. "Holy shit," she whispered.

Gaby had her hand pressed between her thighs, squirming in her seat, her mouth slightly open, her eyes fixed on Pauline like she was witnessing a religious awakening.

And on the velvet chaise lounge near the window...

Val was buried between Nicole's thighs.

Nicole's hands clutched the back of Val's head, her tits bouncing, breath sharp and shallow as her legs trembled against the cushions.

Val's tongue was relentless -- flicking and circling Nicole's clit, her fingers deep in her pussy, slow and curling just right.

Nicole's head fell back. "Oh my--fuuuck--don't stop--"

Gaby gasped. "She's gonna--"

And then she did.

Nicole came hard, crying out, her body convulsing under Val's grip.

Val didn't stop. Not until Nicole collapsed back, spent and soaked.

Val sat up, wiped her mouth, and grinned like she'd just won a prize.

"Guess the bride's not the only one getting filled tonight."

Laughter broke out from the couches.

Gretta: "Pauline, you absolute slut."

Pauline, still breathless and half-naked, raised a hand in the air without opening her eyes. "Thank you."

Nicole, glowing, flushed, and breathless, reached for her drink and toasted the room.

"To the best fucking night of my life."

Everyone raised their glasses.

Even the men.

And somewhere, between champagne, sweat, and the aftershocks of orgasm, the whole room exhaled together.

The red lights dimmed.

The music faded into a low pulse as the last laughs died in the velvet air. Clothes were gathered, lipsticks reapplied halfheartedly, hair tossed back into shape.

Val pulled Pauline into a long, warm hug at the door.

"You were unforgettable tonight," she whispered in her ear.

"Scarlett lives."

And then she was gone -- heels clicking down the hall, leaving the rest behind.

The limo ride back was quieter.

Just the four of them now: Pauline, Gretta, Nicole, and Gaby. Each one a little dazed, sore, and glowing -- in that post-chaos silence where the adrenaline fades and the weight of the night begins to settle.

Nicole curled up by the window, still barefoot, scrolling lazily through pictures.

Gaby leaned her head on Gretta's shoulder, smiling quietly to herself.

And Pauline...

sat staring out the tinted glass, the city lights flickering against her skin.

Gretta watched her from across the seat.

"You good?" she asked gently.

Pauline hesitated.

"I don't know what I just did."

Nicole looked over. "You lived."

Gaby added, "You breathed like Scarlett."

Pauline gave a breathy laugh. "Yeah... but now I'm Pauline again."

Her voice cracked on her own name.

There was a pause.

Gretta leaned forward. "It was your bachelorette. You weren't doing anything wrong. You were letting go."

Nicole nodded. "Vegas isn't real life. It's a time loop in glitter."

But Pauline shook her head, her fingers gripping the edge of her clutch.

"I think I need to tell James."

Silence fell.

Gaby sat up. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I can't start our life with a lie," Pauline said, her voice steadier now, though her eyes were glassy. "He loves me. And I let three strangers--"

"No," Gretta interrupted gently. "You didn't let anything happen. You chose it. You needed it. It was yours."

Nicole: "And it's not about them. It was about you. Owning your body. Your freedom. Your last night before you lock into forever."

Pauline looked out the window again, eyes catching her reflection.

"I know. And part of me doesn't regret it. That's the scariest part."

Gretta exhaled. "Then maybe you don't tell him everything. Maybe you tell him how you changed. What you felt. But not... every detail."

Pauline didn't answer.

She just watched the Strip disappear behind them.

They stepped out of the limo into the hushed, golden quiet of the hotel lobby -- heels clicking, hair tousled, skin still flushed.

No one said much.

The buzz had faded into something softer now. Weightier.

They rode the elevator up in silence, heads leaning against mirrored walls, bodies aching in that sweet, spent way.

When they got to the suite, Pauline was the last to walk in.

Gretta gently caught her wrist before she disappeared toward the bathroom.

"Hey," she said quietly. "Just in case."

She handed her a small, folded tissue -- and inside, a single white pill.

Plan B.

Pauline froze for half a second.

Then nodded. "Thanks."

She didn't ask. Gretta didn't explain.

It was one of those silent sisterhood gestures -- practical, protective... loving.

Pauline took it with a sip of water from the minibar.

Then walked into the bathroom.

The steam filled the space quickly.

She stepped under the water slowly, letting it run over her tits, her sore thighs, her still-throbbing pussy. The heat felt good -- grounding, cleansing... but not erasing.

Not even close.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

Her mind flickered through flashes: cocks, moans, fingers tangled in her hair, screams of her name -- or Scarlett's. Her body still hummed with the memory of hands and mouths and cum dripping down her legs.

But what lingered most wasn't guilt.

It was the freedom.

And the fact that she didn't know how to carry both that freedom...

And James.

When she finally stepped out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel, padded into the dark bedroom, and climbed into bed without saying a word.

The others were already asleep.

Pauline curled onto her side.

Eyes open.

One hand resting over her stomach.

And for the first time since the whole thing began...

She let herself feel scared.

Chapter 16 Back home

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was pale and still.

The suite felt like a shadow of what it had been the night before -- the air quiet, charged only by the distant hum of zippers and suitcases being packed.

Pauline sat at the edge of the bed, her robe loosely tied, hair damp from her shower. Her gaze drifted across the room, unfocused. The tenderness in her body remained -- a soft echo of everything she'd felt, taken, given.

But now, something else was setting in.

Not regret.

Responsibility.

Gretta walked past her with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, holding Pauline's phone between two fingers.

"Here," she said casually. "You can have it back. We're in the home stretch now."

Pauline took it slowly, nodding.

"Thanks."

Gretta offered a half-smile, then went back to her packing, humming quietly under her breath.

Pauline looked down at the phone in her hand.

And stared at it.

She stepped into the hallway alone, barefoot, her heart pounding like it had all night -- but for a different reason now.

Her thumb hovered over James's name.

Then pressed.

One ring.

Two.

Three--

"Hey," his voice came, still sleepy. "Everything okay?"

Pauline closed her eyes.

And breathed.

"I need to tell you something."

From there, the conversation unfolded just as before -- her voice trembling, her truth laid bare, his quiet hurt, his unexpected grace, the pause that stretched too long, and finally, the warmth.

The forgiveness.

The real love.

When she hung up, Pauline leaned her head against the wall, her robe falling open slightly, her hand still holding the phone.

The suite looked calmer in the morning light -- quiet, almost shy, as if it had secrets to keep.

Makeup bags were zipped. Heels were reunited with their owners. Dresses from wild nights folded and stuffed into overpacked luggage.

Pauline zipped her suitcase and took one last look around.

Nicole was finishing her coffee by the window. Gaby rolled her bag toward the door. Gretta was checking the flight info on her phone.

"Hey," Pauline said softly, "I talked to James."

All three turned.

Nicole: "Already?"

Gaby: "How'd it go?"

Pauline smiled gently. "I told him the truth. Not every detail... but the important part."

Gretta raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"He said he loves me. That we're moving forward. That he understands."

The air shifted. Warmed.

Nicole grinned. "You two are stronger than most."

Gaby nodded. "That's love, girl. Real love."

Gretta bumped her shoulder. "Now go get married, wife-to-be."

They laughed -- soft, grateful, full of emotion that didn't need big words.

They left the suite together, rolling their suitcases down the hall, heels clicking against the marble. At the lobby, they returned the key cards and took one last photo in front of the chandelier.

Outside, the limo was waiting.

They rode to the airport together.

When the plane landed, they hugged in baggage claim -- tighter than they needed to, even though they'd see each other again in days.

Nicole and Gaby caught their rides.

Gretta and Pauline took the same car.

As the city passed by the window, Pauline leaned her head on her sister's shoulder.

They arrived home.

That evening, after a much-needed nap and long shower, Pauline slipped into a soft cream blouse and jeans, tied her hair back, and met James at their favorite little Italian spot.

He stood outside waiting, wearing that same hoodie she used to steal in college. When he saw her, his face softened instantly.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said, pulling her into a long, grounding hug.

Her body relaxed into his, warm and familiar.

Dinner was slow. Comfortable. Familiar dishes. Glasses of wine. Fingers brushing on the table.

But the air carried weight. A quiet space between them that both knew needed to be filled.

Halfway through dessert, Pauline took a sip of wine and met his eyes.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked gently.

James nodded. "I mean... I think so. It's still weird to think about. I've imagined a hundred versions of what you might've done out there. But... I also know you."

She reached across the table, laced her fingers through his.

"I wasn't looking for it," she said quietly. "It just... happened. And it was intense. Wild. Like I became someone else for a night. And then it was over."

He watched her for a long second.

"And are you okay now?"

She smiled. "I am. But I didn't want to keep anything from you. And... I don't want you to feel like I got something that you didn't."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

Pauline exhaled slowly. "If during your bachelor weekend... something happens. If you meet someone, or something wild takes over... don't carry guilt. I won't hold it against you."

James leaned back, eyes narrowing a little with thought.

"Are you giving me a free pass?"

"I'm giving you peace of mind," she said softly. "The same thing you gave me."

He was quiet for a beat.

Then smiled -- a little crooked, a little surprised.

"I'm not planning on anything," he said. "But... thank you. That means a lot."

Pauline squeezed his hand.

"I love you, James. That hasn't changed."

He leaned in, eyes soft.

"I know. And I love you. No matter what."

The ride home was full of silence -- but the good kind.

Fingers intertwined.

Her head on his shoulder.

His hand on her thigh.

When he pulled up outside her house, he didn't unlock the door right away.

He turned to her, brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

"You sure you don't want to come over?"

She smiled. "Not tonight. Let me soak this in."

He nodded.

Leaning forward, he kissed her -- slow, long, full of all the things neither of them had said aloud.

When she stepped out, he waited until she turned back on the porch.