One Night in Nashville

**Author's Note**

One Night in Nashville is the first story I wrote featuring Cassie Lane - a woman who's bold, experienced, and utterly unapologetic about what she wants.

Cassie isn't here to play it safe. She's not looking for romance. She's been there, done that. Now, she's unashamedly chasing her kicks - however and wherever she wants them.

In this story, Cassie finds herself at a live gig in a downtown Nashville bar, and a couple of the band members catch her attention - leaving her with a delicious choice to make.

I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to share your thoughts.

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Nashville didn't ease you in. Far from it. Instead it hit like a double measure of Tennessee whiskey on an empty stomach. Loud, brash and ready to knock your socks off.

Music spilled from every open door on Broadway, a layered cacophony of guitars, bass lines, stomping boots and growled choruses about heartbreak, bar fights, and the kind of sex that leaves permanent marks. Neon buzzed. Ice clinked. Sweat ran down backs in the heat and humidity of the July evening - and yet nobody gave a damn about anything but having fun.

Into the thick of it all stepped Cassie Lane.

She wasn't dressed for comfort, she was dressed for impact.

She wore black cowboy boots, scuffed just enough to show character. A white denim mini skirt, fashionably frayed at the edges, clung to her hips and hugged her arse like it was grateful to be there. It barely covered the good stuff and did nothing to hide the shape of what lay beneath.

Her legs were tanned and powerful - legs that had straddled loungers and laps, had wrapped around shoulders, had walked through life with the kind of ease that made men insecure and women envious.

Her tits - big, fake, perfectly done - pushed against the fabric of her halterneck like they wanted out. They practically dared you to guess if they were natural, but you'd probably guess wrong. Over it all a leather biker jacket hung open.

She was 53 years young and nothing hidden. Her stomach was flat - shaped more by life and an active lifestyle than by crunches, but with a little help from a surgeon's knife. Her waist curved in, her hips curved out, and she had an arse that was tight and proud.

Her hair was long and loose, blonde and sun-warmed, catching the breeze and floating like a banner in the wind. Big dark sunglasses masked her eyes, but the curve of her lips told you everything you needed to know. That mouth had made men weak and women curious.

She strutted down the drag with attitude and a rhythm in her hips that didn't come from rehearsal. She didn't sashay, she glided. The kind of movement that made people turn - not because it was loud, but because it spoke of inevitability.

Girls in rhinestones and flower crowns clocked her. Boys with cheap beers paused mid-sentence. A man on a rented scooter nearly ploughed into a street lamp trying to get another look.

Cassie smiled, just a little, and kept on walking.

She passed a rowdy group of college kids outside a bar, half-empty daiquiris in hand. One of them nudged his mate, whispered something, and laughed nervously.

Cassie turned her head, just enough to catch him staring, then let her eyes drag over him slowly. "You're not ready for me, sugar," she said under her breath as she marched on.

She didn't rush, not least because Nashville didn't ask her to. She walked slowly, but with intent, letting the night press in around her.

The pavement beneath her boots was tacky in places - a combo of old beer, old gum, and old stories. The smell of fried chicken hung in the air.

A man spilled out of a bar to her left, red in the face, shirt clinging to his back, friends following with laughter in their teeth. He caught sight of her and stalled mid-step, eyes snagged on the curve of her arse, the sway of her hips. Cassie didn't need to look over, she could just feel it.

All along the street people were moving - smoking, shouting, necking drinks, necking each other. Nashville was vibrating, raw and charged.

She passed a cluster of women in matching pink sashes and cowboy hats. Bachelorette party, loud and tipsy. One of them caught Cassie's silhouette, looked her up and down, then whispered something behind her hand.

Cassie turned her head just slightly and flashed a slow, sideways smile that said yes, darlin' - this is what good looks like when you don't need to try so hard.

A little further down, the bars got messier, the music hotter. Every doorway spat out something different - swampy blues, dirty rock, fast fiddle and foot-stomp country. The kind of sound that got under your skin and pushed you up against a wall if you weren't careful.

She loved that about this place. It wasn't home, but it was somewhere she felt at home when she needed to let her hair down and blow off a little steam.

She passed an old man leaning against a lamppost, alone, smoking slow, watching the crowd with that particular look - like he'd seen everything there was to see but was still waiting for something to shock him.

Cassie held his eyes for three full seconds as she passed. He grinned, but looked away first. She had that effect on people, even the biggest and nastiest bastards of them all.

She licked her bottom lip, catching a taste of lipstick, and kept moving. Her walk was purposeful, even though she had no plan of where she was headed beyond seeing what caught her fancy.

***

Cassie's boots struck the sidewalk steady and unfazed until she paused at the corner of the street. She looked up, and didn't need to walk any further to know where she belonged.

The place caught her eye from the other side of the street - low roof, aged wood, amber lights spilling through the windows. No doormen. No queue. No neon cocktails advertised on chalkboards. Just a simple wooden sign above the door that said Harlan's. Faded and confident, like it didn't give a shit if you came in or not.

She liked that.

Cassie checked her reflection in the window, or at least as much as she could given the grime. She adjusted her halter, shifted her hips, and let that denim skirt do what it did best. Then she pushed the door open and stepped into the bar like it had been expecting her.

Inside, it was dark. Cooler too, but not by much. The air still carried heat - from the stage, from the crowd, from the bourbon-soaked breath of the men pressed along the bar. And those same patrons sure as hell noticed her arrival.

Heads turned and eyes lifted. Conversations paused. A man in his forties lowered his beer halfway to his mouth and just held it there. Another nudged his buddy and didn't bother whispering.

Cassie didn't flinch.

She drank the moment in. Walked slow across the boards, boots thudding with just the right weight. She knew how to move through a room with a presence that demanded attention.

She didn't mind being alone. Sure, she had friends - plenty of them - but she enjoyed her own company too. Nights like this? These were hers. She liked the power in it, the subtle art of not giving a fuck. The delicious freedom of knowing she could walk into any place she pleased and stay as little or long as she wanted without accounting to anyone else.

She made her way to the bar, leaning lightly on the counter.

The bartender clocked her instantly - clean-shaven, local drawl barely hidden beneath the polish. He leaned in.

"What can I get you, ma'am?"

Cassie smiled, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. She took them off slowly, folded them with care and hooked them on her top - dragging his eyes towards her tits as she did.

"Bourbon," she said. "Neat. And don't call me ma'am unless you're planning on misbehaving."

He grinned, almost blushed. Poured it immediately.

She slid a bill across the bar, took her glass, and turned - scanning the room without hurrying. Booths to the side. High-tops near the back. The crowd was mostly men. Denim. Scuffed boots. Button-downs damp with sweat. Good ol' boys with nothing better to do than stare. There were a few women in groups, one or two with dates. But mostly testosterone.

Cassie walked the perimeter and chose her spot - a quiet two-top near the wall, just far enough from the band to keep her ears intact, but close enough to feel it and see what was going on. She sat and crossed her legs, let the denim rise on her thighs.

She took a sip of bourbon and let it settle like fire in her chest.

The band was already playing - four of them in tight jeans and worn boots, and a woman too on the guitar. The singer was mid-verse with a voice that sounded like too much liquor and cigarettes. His guitar was slung low, steel strings bending into something slow and sad. Something that could tip into sex or heartbreak at a moment's notice.

Cassie leaned back. She watched and listened. Let the bourbon hum through her chest and the music roll over her like a warm tide.

Not bad, she thought. Now let's see if they fuck it up.

***

The song ended to warm applause and the clatter of bottles against tabletops. Cassie took it all in but didn't clap, didn't cheer, just gave the band a nod in her own mind. Respect where it was due. They'd held the room.

The frontman muttered something into the mic which was unintelligible through the hum of conversation - and then the drummer counted them in. This one kicked up faster, dirtier. A four-four beat with a shuffle in it, the kind that made boots tap and shoulders start to move. Steel guitar twanged sharp over the top of a low-slung rhythm section, and suddenly the place had pulse.

Cassie's thigh bounced just a little.

The singer's voice shifted, rougher somehow. He leaned into the mic now with real conviction. She watched him loosen his jaw, roll his hips into the strap of his guitar. The drummer snapped into a swing that belonged in a backroom bar fight, and the bassist rode it like he'd been born on stage.

It felt sexier. Not quite slow-grind filthy, but building toward it - the kind of song that got you laid if you played it right. Cassie took another sip of bourbon and let it hum through her again, enjoying it.

That's when he approached.

A guy who had been watching Cassie at the bar. Sleeves rolled, jeans tight, just a little too confident. The walk said cowboy, the hair said weekend warrior. He stood next to her table, drink in hand, grinning like he'd been waiting for this moment all night long.

"What's a woman like you doing sittin' all alone in a place like this?"

Cassie didn't look up at first. She set her glass down with a soft clink and turned her head slowly. He was already halfway through a smirk.

She met his eyes and held them for just long enough. Then smiled.

"Swatting flies," she said. "Looks like I missed one."

His smirk faltered. He chuckled, tried to recover with a shrug.

"Feisty. I like that."

Cassie leaned forward slightly, just enough to make him think something was coming.

"I'm not here for compliments. And I'm definitely not here for boys who lead with their belt buckle."

That shut him up. He gave a little nod, raised his drink like it was all in good fun, and backed away with whatever dignity he could still scrape off the floor.

Cassie watched him go, then looked back to the stage.

The song was peaking - guitars let loose, wailing in full cry. The frontman leaned into the mic again, his voice cracking just right on the edge of a growl.

And, for the first time, he looked straight at her.

The moment hung, Cassie watching the stage, the frontman watching her. No smile or over-the-top showmanship. Just locked eyes - right in the sweet spot between control and challenge.

Then he dipped his head toward the mic.

"Let's pick it up," he said.

The drummer clicked them in and the band hit hard - a bluesy rocker with just enough Southern grit to make the women sway and the men feel dangerous. The frontman didn't flinch. Didn't fumble. Didn't break that connection, even while delivering the verse with grit and timing. He was a performer, Cassie had to give him that.

Now she let herself really look at him.

Early-thirties, maybe - hard to tell with the lighting and the way he wore himself. Strong jawline half-hidden under a few days of dark stubble. Eyes that didn't flinch, the kind that saw everything and missed nothing. His shirt was rolled at the sleeves and open at the front, a faded black tee stretched just enough to hint at muscle beneath. Jeans low and worn in all the right places. Boots planted wide.

He wasn't pretty. He was handsome. Rough-edged but confident. Cassie thought he looked like a man who'd fucked in the bathroom stalls and never asked for a name after.

Cassie let one corner of her mouth twitch.

Alright cowboy, she thought. You've got my attention. Keep talking dirty with that guitar and we'll see where the night takes us.

***

The song tore to a close in a frenzy of feedback and swagger. Applause went up, louder this time. Someone at the bar whooped. A woman near the front let out a drunk, appreciative cheer. The frontman finally looked away, turning to the redhead beside him who'd been working lead guitar.

Cassie had clocked her earlier - but now, in the space between songs, she saw her properly.

Tall. Legs like hell. Long bouncy red hair with a dark streak through it, swept over one shoulder. She wore tight black leather pants, boots with silver hardware, and a vintage Blondie tee cut off just below her ribs. Long well manicured nails, lipstick just so.

She took a step toward the frontman, leaned in, and kissed him. Not soft, not friendly. Just enough tongue to say we've fucked before and might do so again.

Cassie raised an eyebrow, interest peaking again. She took another sip of bourbon. Cassie didn't mind watching a woman like that kiss a man in that way. In fact, she preferred it. More questions. More angles.

The woman moved to the mic.

"Alright, let's shake it up. This one's mine," she drawled.

The band rolled into a funkier, attitude-heavy number - full of grit - and now the redhead owned the stage. She snarled the first line and played like her fingers were flirting with the frets.

It was good. Very good. But what Cassie noticed most wasn't the voice or the riffs.

It was him. The frontman. Still watching her.

Not every second - but enough. Eyes drifting back to her table like he couldn't help it. Like the crowd had gone soft around the edges and she was the only thing holding focus.

Cassie tilted her head, just enough for him to know she knew.

As the final chord rang out and the redhead gave one last shout into the mic, the bar buzzed with noise. She adjusted her strap, flipped her hair back, and gave the room a grin.

"We're gonna take a fifteen-minute break," she said. "Y'all drink somethin' dirty and we'll be right back."

The crowd clapped, hooted, and swarmed towards the bar.

Cassie was still sipping her bourbon when the frontman stepped down from the stage.

He didn't rush. Just unstrapped his guitar, set it down, and started moving toward the bar - weaving through the crowd like it parted just for him. When he passed Cassie's table, he glanced her way.

Not a full look, but just enough. Just enough to know he meant it.

She raised her glass slightly in silent acknowledgement and held his gaze until he looked away - but not before she caught the ghost of a grin.

At the bar, he grabbed a bottled beer from the bartender and twisted the cap off one-handed. A young brunette in a floral dress leaned in, said something with a laugh. He obliged with an easy smile and leaned closer. She raised her phone and he posed without protest - a quick photo, a quicker kiss on the cheek. Polite, but no more.

Cassie watched, amused.

That's when she felt the presence at her side.

"You've been hard to miss. Enjoying the show?"

The voice was low, lilting, and distinctly female.

Cassie turned and looked up.

It was her. The redhead.

Up close, she was even more striking. Freckles dusted across her cheeks and collarbones. Sharp cheekbones. Lipstick just starting to fade from the singing but somehow sexier for it. Her black tank top clung tight across her chest, guitar strap marks faintly visible on her shoulder. Her leather pants sat low on her hips, a slim belt looped loosely through.

She carried herself with swagger - the kind that said she'd been the wildest girl in every band she'd ever played with, and had the stories and scratches to prove it.

Cassie tilted her head slightly, appraising.

"I was," she said. "Still am."

The redhead smiled and nodded.

"Glad to hear it. You've got quite the look about you."

"So do you."

They held each other's gaze for a moment longer than necessary, not flirtatious particularly, just two women who knew exactly what the other brought into a room.

Cassie took another slow sip.

Movement caught her eye as the frontman stepped away from the bar, beer in hand, threading back toward the stage.

As he passed, he gave the redhead a light spank on the arse. Not hard. Just a playful little slap.

As he did he looked directly at Cassie and gave her a wink. Right there, mid-step. A quick flick of the eye, just for her.

The redhead grinned.

"You've got good chemistry," Cassie said, nodding her head towards the guy.

The woman smiled. "Good on stage," she said. "Good in the sheets too. But we used to be more and it wasn't so good. So now it's just band mates and the odd bunk up if we're lonely or desperate."

Cassie pursed her lips, nodded once. She understood. She could read the subtext just fine.

"What about you?" The woman continued. "How come you're in a shithole like this on your own? Some real goons around."

Cassie smiled. "I've spent the last 30 years in places like this. They're my people, I can handle them just fine."

The redhead laughed. "Stick around," she said, turning towards the stage. "The second half of the show gets better."

Cassie didn't need the invitation but smiled graciously anyway. She didn't just plan on staying, she was already thinking about stealing the encore.

***

Cassie drained the last of her bourbon and made her way back to the bar, weaving through the crowd with easy confidence. The bartender clocked her immediately.

"Same again?"

She nodded. "Little heavier on the pour. Pretend you like me this time."

He obliged, slid the glass across the polished wood. She tossed a bill beside it, took a sip, before she turned and strolled back to her table.

By the time she'd slid into her seat, the band was back on stage.

The lights had dimmed just enough to make everything feel closer, hotter. Bodies were pressing toward the front now - people ready to move. Ready to feel.

The redhead stepped up first, guitar already strapped, fingers flexing. The frontman followed, bottle of beer still half-full, his shirt now slightly damp across the chest. They didn't speak. Just nodded once at each other, then turned to face the crowd.

The song came in hard. No warm-up. No teasing - the musical equivalent of getting bent over the nearest amp and fucked until your knees buckle.

The frontman grabbed the mic and let out a howl that turned heads before he even hit a word. Then they were into it - him on lead vocals, her on guitar and backup harmonies, their voices meshing like heat and honey.

Cassie leaned forward slightly, brow lifted. Now this was something.

There was fire between them. Not just chemistry - but a real real charge. Their bodies moved in sync without touching. Her fingers flying across the frets, his hips swaying with the rhythm, eyes half-closed one moment, wide open the next. At times, they sang into the same mic, mouths inches apart, not quite touching.

Cassie grinned. If they fuck as well as they perform, she thought, that must be something to see.

The bar had changed mood.

The air thicker now. The crowd looser. People started dancing - not structured, not pretty, just bodies moving to the beat. Jeans rubbing. Hands slipping under shirts. A woman near the bar bent forward and her man didn't hesitate - grinding up behind her like they were alone.

The music had found its gear.

Gritty. Groovy. Southern rock soaked in bourbon and bad decisions. The kind of stuff you didn't just hear - you felt it low in your stomach.

Cassie let the rhythm into her body, her boot tapping out the beat, her thigh twitching with the groove.

But her eyes weren't on the customers dancing, or at least not just on the dancers. She was taking everything in. Noticing.

Like she noticed the frontman's eyes keep coming back to her.

Between verses. Between chords. Even mid-line, she caught him sneaking glances. Not subtle. Not shy. Just bold enough to let her know he saw her. And that he wanted her to see him.

She flicked her gaze between him and the redhead - back and forth like she was tracking a rally - and wondered, genuinely, which one she'd fuck first. Or whether they'd ask together.

***

The last track came in like a semi doing ninety through a thunderstorm - a thunderclap of drums and a raw, arrogant riff that made the walls tremble. The frontman stepped up to the mic like it was becoming personal - voice full of gravel and fire, every line delivered like it was being ripped from his chest.

But she didn't give him a single glance now. Not once.

Not when he growled in her direction. Not when he dragged his eyes across the room to find her.

She sipped her bourbon, and turned her attention to her instead. She was what had really grabbed her attention.

The redhead was on fire. Fingers flying, hips swinging, hair wild. She didn't smile much when she played - she looked half possessed. Laser-focused. But, midway through the chorus, she glanced at Cassie and managed a half-smile.

Cassie gave a faint lazy smile back.

It had been a while since she'd taken a woman home. But this one? This one had her curious in all the right places.

She'd have been lying to herself if she said she hadn't been intending to find someone to fuck when she came here tonight. She'd anticipated it would be cock rather than pussy, but this little rock chick had her very interested indeed.

The song ended in a blaze of distortion and cheers. People clapped, stomped, shouted their approval and hollered for more.

But the band didn't return.

Instead, the redhead unclipped her guitar, handed it to a tech, and stepped down from the stage.

A stage hand passed her a bottle of beer, still dripping cold. She took it. Tilted it back, and walked straight to Cassie's table.

"That was very impressive," Cassie said, voice low but rich. "Hot as hell. The presence, the sound...."

The redhead grinned.

Cassie continued: "You've got every guy in here eating out of your hand. Married or not."

She let that land, then added: "Every woman too. If that's your thing."

The redhead bit her lip. Not a nervous gesture. A signal.

She leaned in.

"I'm Alice," she said, offering a hand.

Cassie took it.

Firm grip, warm fingers slightly calloused from the strings.

"Cassie."

"Nice to meet you, Cassie. Come grab a drink, let's make the bar jealous," Alice drawled.

They moved toward the bar, casual and close. Cassie didn't hurry, and neither did Alice. A few glances followed them - curious, measuring.

Cassie felt one pair linger longer than the rest.

She glanced back, just once.

The frontman was still by the stage, towel slung over one shoulder, beer in his hand. He was watching.

Not with anger, but with something quieter. A flicker of surprise. Maybe a hint of disappointment. Just a man who thought he'd read the night better than he had.

Cassie didn't stare.

She smiled - not to him, not for him - and turned back to Alice. She had other things on her mind.

They found a spot at the bar, tucked between an empty stool and a man too deep in his whiskey to care. The bartender slid over. Alice ordered another beer, bourbon for Cassie.

They clinked bottle on glass, the silence between them charged.

"You always that confident on stage?" Cassie asked, sipping, her eyes not leaving Alice's face.

Alice tilted her bottle toward Cassie's lips, watching them glisten. "Only when someone interesting's watching."

Cassie raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? What'd I do to get your attention?"

"From the first song," Alice said. "You've got that look."

"And what look's that?"

Alice smiled. "The kinda look that screams sexy as hell, ready to fuck, and keen to see who can keep up with me. A look that says I don't wanna just be entertained, I wanna consume."

Cassie laughed, her tongue touching the rim of her glass. "Maybe I'm hungry."

Alice took a slow breath, eyes darkening. "You wanna keep this going somewhere quieter?"

Cassie leaned in, lips brushing the edge of Alice's ear. "Was getting worried you might not ask."

***

Alice pushed open a side door marked PRIVATE and led Cassie down a short hallway. Faint echoes of bass still hummed through the floorboards.

She opened a door and stepped inside.

Her dressing room. Warm lights, scuffed floor, two chairs and a battered old sofa. On the wall hung a mirror framed with bulbs. A couple of beers sat in an ice bucket, left by someone unseen for later.

She looked back at Cassie.

"You want to sit?"

Cassie didn't. She wanted to play.

The door clicked shut behind them with a soft thud.

Cassie didn't say anything at first. She just stood there, letting the atmosphere settle. The shift from the noise of the bar to the hush of the dressing room made everything feel more intimate, more deliberate.

Alice turned, leaned her back against the door, bottle still in hand. Her eyes ran over Cassie with no shame and no hesitation.

Cassie stepped forward, slow and sure, until there was barely a foot of space between them.

Alice exhaled through her nose. Her eyes dipped to Cassie's mouth. Then lower - to her chest, where the halter clung tight over those perfect tits. Cassie watched her take them in. Let her.

Cassie reached out, slowly, and brushed her fingers over Alice's collarbone - just lightly, just enough to make the younger woman still. Her touch slid to the hem of Alice's cut-off tank. She lifted it slightly, fingers grazing warm skin.

"Are you gonna kiss me?" Cassie asked.

Alice's answer was action.

Their mouths met - firm, warm and hungry - a rush of tension released all at once. Alice's lips were soft but assertive, tasting faintly of beer and breathless anticipation. Cassie pressed back, parted her mouth, letting her tongue just tease. Cassie kissed like she'd invented it, like every mouth she'd ever claimed had belonged to her first.

Alice moaned softly and pressed her body forward, and that was all the permission Cassie needed.

She backed Alice toward the mirror, letting their hips touch. Her hands found Alice's waist, held it firm. Alice blindly dropped her beer to a side table without looking, arms looping around Cassie's neck, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed together - tits flattening through fabric.

Cassie broke the kiss, just for a breath.

"Take your top off."

Alice obeyed without a word, pulling it over her head, revealing a lean torso and braless breasts - small but perfectly formed, tipped with flushed, hard nipples.

Cassie stared for a second, just long enough to make Alice squirm.

"You're gorgeous."

"So are you," Alice replied, her hand instinctively rising towards Cassie's own tits.

Cassie grinned. "Just wait 'til you've got your mouth on them."

She stepped back, slowly untied her halter, and let it fall away. She spilled free - heavy, round and proud. Tits built by money and worn with absolute confidence. She let Alice look.

Alice reached out and cupped one gently, thumb brushing across the nipple.

"They're...."

"Fake," Cassie said. "But you'll still love them."

"... magnificent, I was going to say," came back Alice.

Cassie stepped forward again, kissing her harder this time - hands sliding down Alice's back, over her hips, gripping her arse through tight leather.

Alice gasped against her lips.

"You want these off?" Cassie murmured.

Alice nodded.

Cassie dropped to her knees. She undid the button, pulled the zipper down, kissed the line of skin just above the waistband. Then she peeled them off, inch by inch, revealing simple black panties.

"Jesus," Cassie whispered.

Alice backed onto the little sofa, legs open, flushed and breathless.

Cassie knelt.

She didn't speak, nor did she ask.

She just looked - and fuck, did she know how to look. A steady, slow scan - the kind that stripped you bare without touching a thing. Cassie ran her palms up the inside of Alice's calves, pushing them wider, coaxing them apart like she had all the time in the world. Her hands were warm and sure. Her thumbs circled once at the crease of Alice's thighs.

"You ever had a woman take her time with you?" Cassie asked, softly.

Alice's head moved. Not quite a no, but not quite a yes either.

Cassie smirked. "You're about to."

She leaned in. Breathed against the fabric of Alice's panties - warm, close, a whisper of air that made Alice's stomach tense and her mouth fall open. Cassie could smell her already. Sweet, musky and needy.

She hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled the panties down slowly - past her hips, over her thighs, letting them catch for just a second before sliding to the floor. Cassie tossed them to the side without looking.

Alice was bare. Glowing. Her pussy was shaved, glistening, lips plump and dark with arousal. Her clit peeked out, already swollen, already begging for attention.

Cassie didn't rush. She kissed the inside of Alice's thigh first. Then higher. Then higher again - teasing the edge, close enough to make Alice buck, then pulling away.

"Fuck, Cassie...."

"I know, baby, just go with it."

And then she licked.

Flat-tongued, slow, deliberate. From bottom to top, then back again. Cassie didn't flick or flutter. She devoured. The way a woman does when she's done this a hundred times before - and made every single one of them remember her name and dream about it countless times since.

Alice whimpered.

Cassie's hands slid under her thighs, holding her steady. She pushed her tongue deeper - into the folds, the slick centre, the soft skin just beneath. She sucked at her clit once - not hard, just enough to pull a gasp from Alice's lips and a jolt from her hips.

Cassie moaned softly against her like she was eating a peach in summer. Her mouth wet, her jaw steady. Now she worked her tongue in slow, grinding strokes, then circled the clit with precise, deliberate flicks.

Alice gripped the cushion behind her head. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her hips rocked forward, caught in rhythm with Cassie's mouth.

"Jesus... fuck... don't stop...."

Cassie didn't stop.

She buried her tongue, then dragged it up, flicked hard, then slowed again. Pressure, pulse, pace - perfectly measured. Her hands gripped tighter, pulling Alice in. Her nose pressed flush against her mound. Her tongue moved like she was mapping the place - finding every nerve, every hidden trigger.

Alice came. It started as a gasp - then a shake, then a full-body spasm as she cried out, legs trembling, pussy clenching. Cassie held her there, mouth locked to her, riding the waves until Alice was sagging back into the couch, breath broken, eyes wide and unfocused.

***

Cassie pulled back slowly, her mouth glossy from Alice's climax, a glint in her eye as she licked her bottom lip.

Alice was slumped against the couch, dazed and glowing - but Cassie wasn't done with her. Not even close. She reached down, curled a finger under Alice's chin, and lifted.

"Up," she demanded.

Alice blinked. Something in her lit up - the part of her that had always wondered what it would feel like to be owned. To be dominated.

Cassie cocked her head. "On your knees. Face between my thighs."

Alice obeyed like her strings had been pulled - slipping off the couch, bare knees hitting the hard floor, eyes already searching for skin.

Cassie stood, reached beneath her skirt, and peeled it slightly up around her hips - revealing bare, soaked skin that caught the light like a naughty surprise.

"Now," she said, "Let's see if that mouth of yours can eat pussy as well as it can sing."

Alice leaned in. She started shy - a soft kiss, a tentative flick of tongue - but Cassie's hand found the back of her head instantly, firm enough to draw Alice in.

"No half measures, baby. I want your whole mouth."

Alice dove deeper. Her tongue found the heat and wetness between Cassie's folds, and Cassie let her - just for a moment. Then her voice dropped again, a whisper full of fire.

"Two fingers in me. Curve them up," she ordered.

Alice did as she was told.

Cassie's moan was long, low, and dangerous sounding. She rolled her hips into the girl's mouth, then leaned forward as her hands found her own tits.

"Now suck," she said, gripping one and offering it forward. "Use your mouth like it's the last treat you'll ever have."

Alice pulled away from between her thighs just long enough to take the nipple between her lips and Cassie arched with a noise that could've broken glass.

"You ever made a woman squirt?" Cassie growled, hips rocking against Alice's hand now as her fingers continued to work into Cassie's pussy.

Alice shook her head, lips still wrapped around her tit.

"You're about to."

Cassie grabbed the base of her own breast and smeared the slick from her nipple across Alice's cheek. Then shoved her back down.

"Mouth and fingers. Don't stop till you feel me flood your mouth. If you stop before you do, I'll make you start over."

Alice moaned against her and went back to work - tongue circling, fingers pressing harder, faster, curling like Cassie had instructed her.

Cassie's thighs started to quake. Her boots stomped once on the floor. She threw her head back and let out a deep, rising snarl that turned into a feral growl as her hips bucked and a hot, wet spray pulsed against Alice's mouth and chin. It hit with a hiss and a snap, as if her body had cracked just to soak this girl.

Alice gasped in shock but didn't pull back.

Cassie grabbed her - one hand on the back of her neck, the other gripping her hair, holding her there as another squirt hit her tongue, ran down her face and onto her chest.

"Take it," Cassie gasped. "Take every fucking drop."

When it passed, when Cassie finally let go, Alice sat back on her heels - dripping, flushed, her face soaked, chest heaving like she'd just run a marathon with her mouth.

Cassie looked down at her, smiling but with a wild look in her eye. Then she crooked a finger.

"Now crawl," she said. "And bring that filthy face back up here. I want to kiss you soaked in me."

***

Alice did as she was told.

Still on her knees, still breathless, face still wet with squirt, she crawled forward between Cassie's legs, hands sliding up the older woman's thighs for balance, her tongue flicking out to catch the drip running from her chin. Her face was glazed, her expression dazed.

Cassie grabbed her by the hair, not roughly, and pulled her up the last few inches. Then she kissed her. Full, deep and without any hint of hesitation.

Cassie tasted herself on Alice's mouth, warm and unmistakable. Her tongue plunged in, claiming space, licking every trace of her own orgasm off the girl's lips, her teeth dragging over the edge of Alice's mouth.

It wasn't sweet. It was lustful and it was filthy, and it was perfect.

She broke the kiss with a low breath and locked eyes.

"Get on the couch," she said. "On your back. Legs open."

Alice moved purposefully, dropping into the cushions, chest rising, her body shining with sweat and want. Her thighs fell open, wide and willing.

Cassie shimmied out of her skirt, now wearing just her cowboy boots.

She climbed over Alice like a woman possessed - straddling one thigh, then the other, knees pressed in tight, until their pussies were lined up, bare lips kissing.

Both of them gasped at the contact. Cassie grinned.

"You ever done this before?"

Alice shook her head and blinked, stunned by the heat and sensation enveloping her.

"No," she said, simply. Her voice was soft, stunned, like she couldn't believe what she was about to do - or how much she wanted it.

"You're about to lose your fucking mind."

Cassie leaned forward, kissed her again - slower this time - while she began to rock her hips. Not fast yet, just enough to grind their wetness together. Skin on skin. Slipping and sliding. Friction and filth. Their clits caught on each other, again and again - enough to make Cassie grunt and Alice cry out.

Alice moaned loud - her voice unfiltered, body jolting as her nerves sparked.

Cassie grabbed her thighs, adjusted the angle, and ground even harder. Back and forth. Up and down. Circling. Pussy against pussy.

Cassie's tits bounced with the motion, her nipples hard and flesh glowing, and Alice reached up to grab them - holding them as she moaned into her shoulder.

"Yeah, baby," Cassie whispered, grinding faster now. "Rub that pussy all over mine. Let me feel how wet I made you."

Alice's eyes rolled back.

Their pussies slapped together with every grind - no air or space between them, just soaked lips and pressure. Cassie was leading the rhythm, but Alice had caught it now. Buck, press, grind, cry. The room was humid with their sex, the couch soaked beneath them.

Cassie clenched and her jaw locked.

"Don't you fucking stop," she growled. "We're going to cum together."

Alice whimpered and moaned. She gripped Cassie's arse and ground back harder.

Cassie slammed forward, hips crashing, their clits locked in rhythm. Then it hit: White-hot. Full-body. Leg-shaking. Core-destroying.

Cassie came with a snarl, hips stuttering, whole body clenching like a live wire. She didn't slow, didn't stop - just rode the feeling until her muscles gave out and she collapsed forward.

Alice followed with a strangled cry, her body convulsing beneath her, her thighs trembling violently as another wave of heat pulsed through her.

They stayed like that for a while - tangled, soaked, and spent - breath hot against each other's necks, pussy against pussy.

Finally Cassie rolled to the side, one leg still slung between Alice's.

"Fuck me," Alice gasped, a statement, not a question.

Cassie laughed, eyes half-lidded, voice wrecked but rich.

"Sweetheart," she drawled, "I just did... and then some."

***

The room had quietened now. Not silent, but like the calm after a storm. Like the air itself was catching its breath.

Cassie lay back into the couch, one leg cocked lazily to the side, her chest rising slow and even. Her skin gleamed under the light - streaked with sweat, flushed from the grind, sex still wet and humming with aftershock. Her lips were parted. Not in surprise. Not even in exhaustion. Just satisfaction.

Alice was stretched beside her, legs half-sprawled over the armrest. Her hair clung to her temples, damp and wild, her face flushed and shiny. She had one hand resting on Cassie's stomach, fingers idly tracing the rise and fall like she was still playing chords on her guitar.

They didn't speak for a while. They didn't need to. Their bodies had done the talking.

Eventually, Alice let out a long, satisfied breath. Ran a hand down her face and into her hair, grinning.

"Well, shit," she said.

Cassie turned her head slightly, just enough to glance across the wreckage of limbs and shining, naked skin between them.

"That a compliment or a full-body confession?"

Alice snorted. "Bit of both."

She let the moment hang, then looked back at Cassie.

"I've fucked in green rooms, vans, alleys behind dive bars in Georgia and once even on a drum riser during a thunderstorm. But I've never had someone grind me into religion before."

Cassie chuckled. "That what that was? A religious experience?"

Alice's mouth twitched. "Something pretty fucking close."

Cassie sat up slowly, eyes locked on Alice - glowing, grinning, and smug as hell.

"You proud of yourself?"

"A little," Alice replied.

Cassie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then crawled toward her. "Good."

She shoved Alice back into the cushions.

"Now let's see if I can wipe that smirk off your face."

Alice laughed - right up until Cassie's mouth sealed over her nipple and sucked hard enough to make her yelp. Cassie didn't stop. She bit gently, scraped her teeth, kissed her way down Alice's body until her breath warmed her mound.

"You think you're the only one who can make a girl see stars?" Cassie muttered, voice low, lips brushing the inside of her thigh.

Alice was already trembling.

"Cass...."

But the rest of her name was lost in a gasp.

Cassie didn't tease. She went all in - tongue and heat and fucking intent. She licked Alice like she meant it. Slow at first, then building - tongue flat, then pointed, then curled around Alice's clit like she had something to prove.

Alice bucked beneath her, fists in her hair, hips chasing every stroke.

"Oh my god..."

Cassie hummed against her. The vibration made Alice cry out.

She slid two fingers inside, deep and sure, syncing them with her tongue until Alice shattered. Her whole body locked, then convulsed, screaming out a raw, brutal climax.

But Cassie didn't stop. She grinned into her and kept going, relentless.

"I'm not done until you beg."

Alice's breath caught. "You think I'm gonna...."

Cassie rose just long enough to shut her up with a filthy, tongue-heavy kiss. Then she slid back down her body, steady and focused, with renewed purpose.

Every movement was smooth, measured and tense with control.

She kissed the inside of Alice's thighs. Bit softly. Licked her pussy like she was about to devour dessert - and then... nothing.

Her breath hovered over Alice's pussy, warm and maddening. But her tongue stayed still. Her fingers rested just beside where Alice needed them.

Alice whimpered. Groaned. Fists curling in the cushions.

"Cassie...."

"Not yet."

She began a rhythm that brought Alice right to the edge... and then stopped. Let her cool, let her drop. Then did it again. And again. And again.

By the fourth time, Alice was wrecked. Her moans had turned to whimpers through clenched teeth.

"Please," she finally gasped. "Cass... please let me...."

Cassie smiled. "There it is."

She pressed her palm hard against Alice's mound, used two fingers to probe deep and tap against her G-spot. Her mouth sealed around Alice's clit, tongue flat and hungry, and this time, she didn't stop.

Alice screamed.

The orgasm ripped through her, violent and uncontrollable. Her whole body jolted - spine arching, hands gripping Cassie's head.

And then... splash.

Alice squirted. A soaking, gushing flood that hit Cassie's chin, her hand, everything.

Cassie just kept licking, fingers still working, grinding her clit with tongue and purpose. Alice came again. Shorter, sharper, louder this time.

Only when Alice physically shoved her away did Cassie finally pull back.

She wiped her mouth, slow and smug. "Told you you'd beg."

Alice collapsed back into the cushions, wide-eyed and silent, like she'd been fucked out of language.

Cassie leaned in close and kissed the top of her thigh.

"Next time, don't start what you can't finish," she whispered.

***

They didn't say much while getting dressed, the quietness easy rather than awkward.

Cassie pulled her white denim mini back up over her hips and zipped it with a low hum. Her grey halter top was rumpled and smelled like sweat and sex, so she tied it tighter and owned it.

Alice laced her boots back on barefoot, braless under her tee. No makeup fix, no mirror check. She looked like she'd just walked out of a riot and wouldn't change a damn thing about it.

As they stepped out the side door of the venue, the Nashville night hit them - humid, gritty, and alive.

Music still spilled onto the streets, but Cassie wasn't looking for another honky-tonk or LED-lit tourist trap. She needed grease. Beer. A place where the floor stuck and the burgers dripped.

Alice must've read her mind.

"Know a place," she said. "Two blocks down, no bouncers, no bullshit. Burgers that'll clog your arteries and beer that tastes great ice cold and like piss if it's not."

Cassie grinned. "Perfect."

The place was called Darlin's. It's neon sign was half-dead. It had wood paneling on the walls and red vinyl booths patched with tape. A jukebox sat in the corner that hadn't been updated for a decade. The ceiling fan creaked overhead like it might fall and kill someone at any moment.

But it was dark, it was cool, and it was honest.

They took a booth near the back and slouched into the cushions like they'd been visiting for years. Cassie ordered a double cheeseburger, rare, and a longneck. Alice went for a fried chicken sandwich, extra pickles, and a bottle of High Life.

"Fuck, I needed this," Cassie said, dragging a fry through ketchup like she was trying to erase the memory of abstinence.

"Better than post-show pizza," Alice agreed, mouth full.

They ate in silence for a while. Just beer, salt, meat, and satisfaction.

Then Cassie looked up, smirk tugging at her lip.

"You know," she said, "I've had my fair share of girls. But nothing turns me on more than a real fucking cock."

Alice grinned around her bottle. "That so?"

Cassie nodded. "Don't get me wrong - I'll eat a pussy like I'm starving. But that feeling of a dick... that weight? I like to feel like it's rearranging something."

Alice laughed.

"Same. Women are fun, but nothing replaces that feeling when someone fills you just right."

Cassie raised her bottle. "To that."

They clinked.

Then Alice's expression shifted, playful but edged with something more.

"You know who was watching you all night like a kicked puppy?"

Cassie arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Cole," Alice said, eyes twinkling. "Singer with the smoulder and the jawline? Couldn't take his eyes off you even after I kissed him goodbye."

Cassie leaned back. "He wanted it."

"Wanted you," Alice corrected. "And you walked out with me instead."

Cassie smiled. "Think his ego's still nursing the bruise?"

Alice popped a fry in her mouth, licked salt off her thumb. "Oh, one hundred percent. But bruised egos make great hard-ons."

They laughed together. Cassie sipped her beer and didn't say anything for a second. But her smile belied that she was already halfway through forming an idea.

"Might be worth bruising him a little more. Just to see what's underneath."

***

Cassie was halfway through her second beer when she leaned across the booth, eyes glinting in the low light.

"You've got Cole's number, right?"

Alice paused mid-fry, raised a brow. "Course I do. Why?"

Cassie grinned. "Time to twist the knife."

Alice laughed. She wiped her fingers, unlocked her phone, and opened the thread. His name popped up quick. Cole. Plain and simple, no emoji.

Cassie moved around the booth and slid in beside her, shoulder to shoulder now. "Start with this:"

Alice typed, thumb dancing.

Guess what I'm doing.

Or should that be... who I've just done?

They both grinned, and went back to their beer.

A few minutes later Alice's phone buzzed.

Cole:

??

What are you talking about?

Cassie nodded to Alice. "Show, don't tell."

Alice shifted in her seat, snapped a photo under the table - a tight crop of Cassie's bare thigh and her hand resting just beneath the hem of the skirt - fingers splayed like a prelude to more. Not explicit, but just enough to start his imagination running wild.

Sent.

Buzz. The reply was nearly instantaneous.

Cole:

Who's thigh is that?

Cassie didn't miss a beat. "He's trying to play it cool, but he knows. Tell him the truth."

Alice tapped.

The woman you watched walk out the door with me.

Just returned the favour. With interest.

Cassie added: "And now you've got her attention."

Alice typed:

She wanted me.

I gave her everything.

Now she wants to know if you're still hard.

Buzz.

Buzz again.

Cole:

You're fucking with me.

I should have come with you both.

Alice looked at Cassie. "He's squirming."

Cassie leaned in, conspiratorial tone now.

"Make him work for it."

Alice smiled, sent a follow-up:

We're still at it.

Just took a breather.

Burgers, beer, and your name in her mouth.

A moment later, she added:

Want proof?

Cole's reply came fast.

???

Cassie lifted her top just enough. Alice snapped the pic: tight, flushed skin, hard nipple, Cassie's hand gripping Alice's thigh in the corner of the frame.

Sent.

Buzz.

Cole:

Where are you?

Alice looked at Cassie. Her heart thudded once - not nerves, nor guilt. Just the sharp buzz of knowing they were fully in control. This wasn't just teasing now, it was power.

Cassie just shook her head.

"Not yet."

Alice nodded. Typed:

Just wanted you to know what you missed.

Pause.

Buzz.

Cole:

Stop fucking with me Ally. I can still come. You know you love how I fuck. She

would too.

Alice didn't reply, but turned and smiled at Cassie. "He's never short on ego."

Cassie reached for her beer, took a slow sip, then met Alice's gaze.

"Let's let him stew a little longer."

Alice smiled, locked her screen, and set the phone down.

"Let's see if he begs."

***

The phone buzzed again.

Alice glanced at it, snorted. "He's still biting."

Cassie leaned across the table, chin propped on one hand, burger half-eaten, eyes glittering. "Read it."

Alice grinned and did.

Cole:

Don't you need something real and hard??

Cassie let out a short, sharp laugh. "Oh, poor baby. He's begging already."

Alice tapped out a reply, thumb dancing with playful malice.

Oh, honey.

We're just getting started.

But you're not the main act tonight. Sorry.

Sent.

They clinked bottles. Drank deep.

Another buzz. More desperate this time.

Cole:

Tell me what to do.

You want pics? I'll send whatever you want.

Just tell me you want me.

Cassie licked ketchup off her finger, then reached for Alice's phone. "Let me."

Alice handed it over, eyes bright.

Cassie typed slowly, deliberately.

You were hot up there.

Made me want to see how hard you could strum something that moans back.

But then I saw her.

And I just fancied taco rather than sausage tonight.

Perhaps next time?

Cassie arched a brow. "Too much?"

Alice shook her head, biting back a grin. "He's probably jacking off already."

Buzz.

Cole:

Fuck.

I've had a hard-on all night since seeing you in the bar.

You looked fucking hot.

You don't know what you're missing.

Just say the word.

Cassie looked at Alice.

Alice tilted her head. "Do we?"

Cassie smiled. "Not yet."

She typed:

Are you touching yourself?

Buzz.

Cole:

Not yet.

But I could.

Cassie held up the phone so Alice could see, the grin stretching across her face.

"Here's where we make him ask."

Alice leaned back, arms crossed behind her head, voice cool. "Let's see what he offers."

Cassie typed:

Maybe.

But we're still deciding if you're worth it.

Convince us.

Sent.

No buzz.

They waited.

Alice sipped her beer. "Think he's stroking or sulking?"

Cassie smirked. "Hopefully both."

Finally: buzz.

Cole:

Got a raging boner here.

Would be a shame to waste it.

Cassie leaned in, eyes low-lidded and playful. "So... you and him. You said you've fucked?"

Alice drained the last of her beer and nodded. "Yeah. We were together for a bit. Didn't work. But we still fuck sometimes. Usually post-show, when I'm worked up and there's nothing better around."

Cassie grinned. "Is he as good as he thinks he is?"

Alice barked a laugh. "God, no. He's not bad. Just... too into himself. He's got rhythm, I'll give him that. Decent size, not huge. Enthusiastic. Just needs a firm hand now and then."

Cassie tilted her head. "So... coachable?"

"Oh, definitely. Not a one-man show. But if you tell him what to do..." she twirled a fry between her fingers, "... he'll give you what you want."

Cassie hummed low in her throat. "Think he could handle both of us?"

Alice smirked. "Might break him. But he'd die smiling."

They laughed.

Buzz.

Cole:

Still hard.

Still thinking of you.

Alice rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. "Persistent. That's his ego again I warned you about."

Cassie toyed with her bottle, then looked up. "Maybe we should give him an audition."

Alice turned toward her, something dangerous sparking in her gaze. "You think he's earned it?"

Cassie leaned in, voice smooth. "Nope. But watching him try could be fun."

***

Alice unlocked her phone.

We're talking.

You've got one chance to impress.

Don't waste it.

Sent.

Buzz.

Cassie and Alice exchanged a look. Game on.

Alice's phone buzzed again.

You're killing me here. What do I have to do?

Cassie didn't look up. "Ask him for a photo."

Alice grinned. "Of what?"

Cassie sipped her beer. "His cock. Hard. Obviously."

Alice didn't hesitate.

If you're serious, show us what you're working with.

Hard. No face. No fluff. Just truth.

They waited.

Buzz.

Alice opened it first, then turned the screen.

Cassie leaned in. Eyebrows lifted.

"Well," she murmured, "he's not lying about being hard."

Alice tilted her head. "That's him at full throttle. Looks better than I remember."

Cassie smirked. "Still needs to earn his place."

She nodded toward the phone.

"Tell him to wank for us. A video. Just his cock and his hand. No talking. Let's see if he can keep it up knowing we're watching."

Alice's eyes gleamed. She typed.

Next task: video. You jerking that hard cock for us.

No talking. No edits. No cumming.

This is just the warm-up.

"Think he'll do it?" Cassie asked, eyebrow cocked.

Alice laughed. "He's probably already halfway there."

A few minutes later the phoned buzzed.

They watched it together, huddled close, giggling like schoolgirls with dirty secrets.

The screen filled with his cock. Hard. Throbbing. His hand slow and steady, working himself for them in desperate silence.

Cassie's lips curled.

"Maybe he's got potential."

Alice licked her bottom lip. "Maybe."

Alice's thumb hovered above the screen, her grin growing as she crafted the reply.

Cute. But we're not even wet yet.

Want a real shot?

Edge yourself. Three times.

Hands behind your head between rounds.

No cumming. No cheating.

Prove you can follow orders.

Cassie arched a brow. "You're evil."

Alice laughed. "He's got a stage name and a six-string. About time he learned how to play a different instrument."

Buzz.

They looked. Just a reply this time.

Fuck. Okay. Give me a few minutes.

Cassie leaned in, her voice sultry. "He's going to be a mess after this."

Alice grinned. "That's the point."

They nursed their beers. Talked music. Swapped outrageous sex stories. Time ticked.

Buzz.

The new message was a video.

"Open it," Cassie whispered, already sliding closer.

Alice tapped.

Cole was kneeling on the floor now. One hand gripping the base of his cock, red and swollen. He stroked... slowly. Then faster. Moaned, but didn't speak. He reached the brink, groaned hard, stopped. Hands behind his head. Breathing like a wild animal.

First edge.

Cut.

Second round: faster, sweat-slicked, his cock twitching. He froze again, holding back with visible strain. Muscles tight.

Third edge came fast. Desperate now. Fighting it. Face flushed. Veins angry. His balls heavy and high. When he stopped, his whole body shook.

Hands behind his head again.

End of video.

Alice exhaled slowly. "Well fuck."

Cassie bit her bottom lip. "At least he can follow instructions," she said.

"He's desperate," Alice said.

Cassie took a long sip of her beer and leaned across the table, voice electric.

"Well then," she murmured. "Maybe it's time we took our little rockstar for a real test drive."

Alice's eyebrow arched. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Cassie gave a slow, sinful smile. "I've got a suite. Downtown. Big bed. Even bigger mirrors."

Alice let out a low whistle. "Presidential treatment."

Cassie grabbed Alice's phone. Typed slow, deliberate.

Meet us at The Sable.

Top floor. Suite 912.

Bring that cock, and your best behaviour.

We'll decide if you get to use either.

A pause. Then one more message.

Oh and don't your dare make yourself cum.

If you walk in with empty balls, you walk right back out.

Alice leaned back in her seat, cocking her head at Cassie. "You always this mean?"

Cassie licked the last of her beer from her bottom lip.

"No," she said, standing. "But I've seen the way you look when you're turned on, and it's got me hungry for more."

They tossed a few bills on the table and stepped out into the warm, buzzing Tennessee night. Cassie messaged the concierge as they walked.

Prepare the room.

This wasn't going to be subtle. It was going to be spectacular.

***

The Sable was the kind of hotel that didn't just cater to the elite - it indulged them. From the marble lobby veined like stormclouds to the silent, scent-infused elevators that opened with a whisper, every detail screamed curated indulgence.

Cassie and Alice stepped out on the top floor. The hallway was dim, hushed, with deep navy walls, brass fixtures, and thick carpet underfoot. Cassie's keycard unlocked the suite with a soft click, and the door swung open like a stage curtain.

Alice stepped in - and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Holy shit."

The suite was nothing short of cinematic.

Golden light spilled from hidden panels. The sunken living area was wrapped in soft luxury - navy and deep plum cushions scattered across an oversized low-slung sofa.

A glass-topped coffee table held a bottle of Cristal chilling in ice. To the left, a polished piano gleamed beneath an abstract chandelier. To the right, a wide-open bathroom: black marble floor, backlit mirrors, a standalone egg-shaped tub like a sculpture, and a rainforest shower behind a wall of glass.

Straight ahead, the bedroom: king-size circular bed, draped in Egyptian cotton, with a mirror mounted tastefully on the ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran along one wall. Beyond the glass, the skyline shimmered - and on the private terrace, a hot tub bubbled expectantly.

Alice let out a long, slow whistle.

"You must have serious cash to be able to afford a place like this."

Cassie walked across the suite like it was nothing.

"My ex-husband's. Former NFL. Running back. Now coaching some division team with more money than brains." She paused to shrug off her leather jacket. "Caught him fucking a cheerleader in our guest house. So I sued the fuck out of him."

Alice grinned. "Let me guess - he settled."

Cassie winked. "And some."

They both laughed, the kind of laughter that comes with alcohol and the unspoken promise of something ahead.

Shoes off. Clothes shed. They moved with lazy confidence, both stripping down like women who knew they looked good in nothing before putting on the hotel's luxury robes, hotel crest embroidered on the chest. Cassie's robe hugged her curves in soft white plush. Alice's sat open enough to flash hip and the faint outline of a tattoo along her ribs. Their bare feet padded over marble and carpet, long hair tumbling loose as they moved across the suite like queens in a palace built just for them.

Then came three short, firm knocks at the door.

Cassie turned her head, slowly.

"Showtime," she said. "Let's see how well he begs in person."

***

Alice smirked, tugged her robe just a little tighter at the waist. "Think he's ready?"

"I'll be amazed and disappointed if he is," said Cassie as she walked to the door, hips swaying, every step full of confidence.

She opened it without hesitation.

Cole stood in the doorway, every inch of him trying not to look impressed.

His jaw clenched once, just enough to betray it - the wealth, the glamour, the two women in robes, barefoot and bare-faced but no less dangerous for it. He wore a plain white tee that clung to his chest, jeans that looked like they'd been pulled on in a hurry, and a jacket thrown over one shoulder like he might need an exit plan.

Cassie didn't say a word. She just leaned against the open door, letting the plush robe part a little down one thigh, the soft curve of cleavage catching the hall light.

Alice was stretched out on the sofa, legs tucked beneath her, sipping champagne straight from the bottle like a siren who already knew the ending to this movie.

Cole shifted his weight. "Nice place," he said, almost grudgingly.

Cassie cocked an eyebrow. "You bringing manners or just that boner you've been texting about?"

That got a laugh out of him. Sheepish, but still a little cocky. Eyes flicking to Alice, then back to Cassie.

"Both."

She stepped aside, slow. "Then come in. Wipe your feet and leave your ego at the door."

He crossed the threshold, the door shutting behind him with a satisfying click.

The air in the suite seemed to deepen immediately, like heat and humidity had added desire to an already combustible mix.

Cole looked between them - Alice in her robe, legs bared and crossed, smirking like she had plans already forming in her mind. Cassie moved closer - her scent all class and expensive but screaming sin..

Cassie stepped around, slow, and circled him like prey. "Welcome, cowboy. We figured you might like a proper welcome."

Cole swallowed. "I'd be an idiot not to."

Cassie smiled sweetly. "Damn right. But let's be clear - you're here at our invitation to serve our purpose and our purpose only. Comprende?"

Cole swallowed again, harder this time. Managed a slight nod.

She stopped behind him, fingers running up under his shirt. She pushed the fabric upward and he raised his arms without protest. The shirt peeled away, revealing lean muscle and ink, his body wound tight like a spring about to uncoil.

Cassie let the shirt drop to the floor and whispered near his ear.

"Strip for us."

A pause.

Alice's grin widened. She took another sip, watching.

Cole hesitated half a second longer - just long enough to show he was still a bit in awe - then reached for his belt.

Cassie sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, robe parted.

Alice leaned forward, eyes glittering, getting in on the act now. "Show us what we're working with, frontman."

He did.

Jeans undone, the belt clinked as it hit the floor. Alice's eyes flicked down, slow and hungry. Cassie didn't blink.

Boxers followed. Cock already hard - not massive, but proud. The sort of cock and attitude that no doubt got him laid plenty often enough.

But tonight, the rules were different.

Cassie ran a finger down her thigh. "Nice."

Alice tilted her head towards here. "But can he use it?" she said, teasingly.

Cassie stood. "Well, you said he needs a bit of encouragement and coaching, but let's see...."

Cassie turned to Alice. "Shall we show him what he's missed?"

Alice licked her lips. "Let's make him wish he'd come sooner."

***

Alice stepped forward without a word, closing the space between them until they were chest to chest. Cassie's robe slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, revealing her full curves, radiant in the low light. Alice's hands came up to cup Cassie's face, but didn't kiss her yet - not until Cassie tilted her chin, inviting it.

Their mouths met softly at first, exploratory yet familiar, but it grew hotter fast - bodies pressed together, tongues teasing, hands sliding lower. Alice's fingers skimmed Cassie's hips, then dipped between her legs with just enough pressure to make Cassie exhale hard through her nose.

Cassie's hand tugged Alice's robe open and found her breast, squeezing lightly, then trailing down her stomach, slipping between her thighs - middle finger finding her.

"Mmm," Cassie murmured against her lips, "you're still soaked."

Alice smiled lustfully. "And you're still fucking dangerous."

Cassie bit her lower lip, then turned her head just enough to speak to Cole without breaking the moment.

"Enjoying the view?"

He nodded, dumbly.

Cassie reached out her hand without looking and took his wrist. "Come here."

She led him to the bed, sat him down, and stood between his legs. Her fingers wrapped around his cock, slow and sure, like she owned it.

"Let's see if you've still got that showman shtick when it matters."

She dropped to her knees.

Her lips wrapped around the head, tongue swirling, one hand cupping his balls while the other stroked the base in rhythm. She moaned softly around him, like he was a treat worth savouring. Cole's head fell back, hips twitching already.

Then she stood, rolled a condom on to his cock and straddled him, sinking down with easy care, every inch swallowed by the heat of her.

Cole groaned, hands finding her hips instinctively.

Cassie smiled down at him, hair falling wild over her shoulders. "Don't move unless I tell you."

Then she started to ride.

Slow, rolling strokes at first - her hips circling, her sex gripping him with velvet pressure, hands braced lightly on his chest. She set the pace, one that wasn't hurried, but deliberate - the pace of a woman in charge, a woman who knew exactly how to extract every drop of pleasure from the man beneath her.

Cole groaned again, head tilted back, hands flexing against her thighs but not daring to grip.

Cassie leaned forward, her breasts brushing his chest. "You feel good, rockstar," she whispered, lips close to his. "But I'm the one doing the fucking."

She rolled her hips harder, grinding down with each pass, letting him feel all of her.

Alice was still standing a few feet away, watching the show. One hand trailed idly down her stomach, slipping between her legs. She didn't need to fake anything - watching Cassie ride her bandmate like she owned him had her soaking all over again.

Cassie caught her eye and smirked.

"Loving my show this time?"

Alice's fingers were already glistening. "You know I do."

Cassie straightened, riding taller now, tits bouncing with each movement of her hips. She arched her back, moaning deep and dirty, like she was putting on a show just for Alice.

"Tell me how it looks."

Alice licked her lips, fingers circling her clit. "Like you're gonna make him cum real quick."

Cassie laughed. "Maybe I will."

She picked up the pace. Her thighs flexed, her rhythm deepening. Wet sounds filled the room - the slap of skin, the pulse of pleasure building beneath them.

Alice's knees hit the bed, her fingers still working as she watched Cassie ride like a goddess. "Fuck," she whispered. "You're dripping down his cock."

Cole was panting now. His eyes were wild, caught between awe and desperation. He whimpered, hips jerking just once before Cassie dug her nails into his chest.

"Don't," Cassie warned, voice sharp, "even think about cumming yet."

He nodded quickly, lips parted, helpless.

Cassie slowed, rocking her hips with exquisite control, clenching around him just to hear him moan. She was playing with him, and loving every second of it.

***

Alice moved down behind them now, her body lithe and toned from the stage. She crawled between Cole's legs, her breasts brushing his thighs, her tongue tracing a lazy line up his balls as Cassie rode him from above.

She kissed his balls, then sucked one into her mouth. Cole groaned, hips bucking, caught between the velvet vise of Cassie's tightness and the teasing torment of Alice's mouth.

Cassie leaned forward, her breasts pressing against Cole's chest, her lips brushing his ear. "You gonna be a good boy for us?"

He couldn't speak - just nodded, desperate and overwhelmed.

Cassie shifted her weight and slid off him in one fluid motion, leaving his cock slick and throbbing in the air. Alice took over without missing a beat, wrapping her lips around the head and taking him deep - deeper than he expected. She moaned as he hit the back of her throat, her eyes watering just a little, the mascara smudge only making her look filthier.

Cassie watched on, one hand playing with her clit, the other stroking Alice's hair as she bobbed her head. "Fuck, she's good, huh?" she spat in Cole's direction.

Cole's only answer was a choked gasp as Alice twisted her hand at the base of his shaft while sucking, saliva dripping down her chin, eyes locked on his.

Then Cassie pulled Alice back by the hair, gently but firmly.

"Time for a duet."

They kissed - a hot, wet and lingering affair - with Cole's taste on both their tongues. Alice's thigh slid between Cassie's as they stood together over him, both women breathing hard, wet and ready, the room pulsing with sexual energy.

Cassie turned to Alice. "Ride his face."

Alice grinned. "Mmm, you sure?"

"Oh, I'm more than sure. He's got a mouth. Let's use it."

Cole didn't even need telling. He shifted down the bed, head dropping back, cock still standing upright, chest rising and falling like he'd just run a marathon.

Alice climbed on, her knees bracketing his face, pussy lowered down like a queen taking her throne. His hands gripped her thighs. She shuddered at the first touch of his tongue, already eager, already working.

Cassie, standing at the end of the bed, mounted him again, facing Alice, pussy sinking down onto his cock like it was made for her.

"Oh god...."

They locked eyes. Both riding the same man. Both using him like a toy. Alice grinding her clit on his face, her moans mixing with Cassie's groans as she bounced on his cock.

Cassie leaned forward, palms on Alice's knees. "You like that, baby? You like watching me fuck him while he eats you?"

Alice was panting. "I love it."

Cassie pressed in closer. Their faces were inches apart now, sweat glistening on their skin.

Alice kissed her.

This time, it was primal. Tongue and teeth, hands tangled in hair. Cassie's rhythm faltered as the kiss stole her breath.

Then Alice broke it off, looked down between their bodies, listening to the increasingly desperate sounds coming from Cole.

She withdrew, grabbing the base of his cock, soaked and shining. Alice slid down and straddled his chest, tits hanging, nipples hard, body flushed.

Cassie crawled between Cole's legs, stroking him with both hands. "You wanna cum?"

He nodded, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"You don't cum until we say."

Cassie leaned forward, whispering something Cole didn't hear. Alice's eyes lit up.

"Oh yeah. That's a new one."

She looked at Cole. "You wanna prove how good you are?"

He nodded.

Cassie turned and reached into her bag by the bed, pulling out a small glass toy - clear, cool, perfectly shaped. She handed it to Alice.

"You ready to try something new, rockstar?"

Cole looked up, wide-eyed.

They instructed him to get on his hands and knees and Alice knelt behind him as Cassie passed her the toy. She kissed the small glass plug in her hand, playful and wicked, and slick with anticipation. She knelt between Cole's legs and looked to Cassie for the nod. She got it.

Cassie stroked his cock slow, teasing the head with her thumb, watching the twitch in his thighs. "You said you wanted to prove yourself," she murmured. "So prove it."

Alice spread his legs wider and leaned in, tongue flicking along the sensitive skin between his balls and ass. Cole jerked, gasped, but didn't stop her. Didn't flinch.

"Good boy," Cassie purred.

Alice lubed the toy with her mouth before pressing it against his tight hole. Her other hand stayed gentle on his hip, grounding him.

"You've never done this before, have you?" she asked, almost sweetly.

Cole shook his head, chest rising fast.

Alice kissed his thigh. "You'll thank us after."

She eased the plug inside him. Cassie grinned as his cock jumped in her grip.

"That's it," she whispered. "Take it."

Cole's mouth fell open - no words, just a groan that was pure submission, equal parts shock and arousal.

Alice watched his face. "He's close. I can feel it."

Cassie leaned in, kissed his inner thigh, then his shaft. "Not yet."

She forced him upright on his knees and climbed up over him again, planting her legs on either side of his hips, the head of his cock pressed against her slimy, waiting entrance. She hovered - close, but not touching.

She let herself sink down onto him in one slow, punishing movement. Her head rolled back, a shudder rolling through her as her pussy stretched around him again. He was harder than before - barely held in check by the toy buried in him, the loss of control, and the overwhelming need.

"Fuck," Cassie moaned, riding him deep and with deliberate slowness.

Alice came up behind her now, arms wrapped around Cassie's waist, hands sliding up to cup her tits. She kissed along her shoulder, then up her neck.

"You're such a fucking queen like this," she breathed. "Just using him. Breaking him."

Cassie turned her head, met Alice's mouth with a kiss. As she did Cole's hands found Cassie's thighs. His body was quaking. She could feel it, he was right there.

She got off him, and got on her own hands and knees, ass high, legs spread, pussy glistening.

"Now," she said. "Come earn it."

Cole crawled after her, dizzy, undone, hard as iron. He pulled the toy from himself, wiped his mouth, then lined up behind her.

He fucked her like a man set free. No more rules, just raw need.

Cassie came again, hands fisting the sheets, scream caught in her throat. Alice watched from the side, one hand between her legs, the other on her tits.

When it ended - when Cole came, thick and raw, his whole body trembling as he unloaded into the condom - he collapsed beside her.

"Fuck," he groaned. "I've never... I didn't even know I could cum like that."

Cassie looked at him. "Told you you'd thank us," she said, coolly.

***

Cassie turned her head to Alice now. Her voice was hoarse but commanding.

"I think it's your turn now, baby."

Cassie led Alice by the hand through the open glass doors, the warm Nashville night spilling in around them. The balcony overlooked the glittering city - headlights, neon, the hum of life far below.

Behind the thick glass, Cole was still slumped on the bed, spent but alert, drinking from a glass of champagne. He couldn't hear them, but the look in his eyes told them everything. He was watching.

Cassie kissed Alice slowly, deeply - one hand sliding down the younger woman's stomach, between her legs, until Alice moaned into her mouth.

She turned Alice to face the room, pushing her gently forward until her palms met the cool glass window. Breasts flattening to it. The curve of her body lit by city lights. Cassie moved in behind her, pressing up close, reaching around to cup her tits, thumbs teasing and circling her nipples until they stiffened under her touch.

Alice whimpered, arching her back. Her eyes flicked sideways to Cole, watching, his gaze fixed.

Cassie kissed along Alice's shoulder, then down the line of her spine. She dropped to her knees behind her, spreading Alice's legs with a nudge and a nuzzle, inhaling her scent like perfume.

She kissed Alice's arse, then the crease at the top of each thigh. Bit her softly. Then turned Alie to face her fully - Alice's back now to the glass, flushed and panting.

Cassie looked up at her with wicked intent, and leaned in. Her tongue found the folds of Alice's pussy again, slick and swollen and begging. But this time, there was no slow tease. This was a performance.

Cassie licked in deep, languid, upward strokes with her tongue wide and flat. Then she focused in tight - circling, flicking, sucking the clit into her mouth.

Alice's head fell back with a cry. One hand slapped the glass. Then again, louder.

Cassie wrapped her arms around Alice's thighs to hold her steady, her mouth working even harder. She sucked, tongue flicking in fast rhythm, then slipped her fingers inside.

Alice's body jolted.

"Oh fuck... Cass... don't stop...."

Inside, Cole was transfixed. His cock was hardening again in his hand, stroking to the rhythm of Cassie's mouth and Alice's helpless moans. He watched her legs tremble, her knuckles go white against the glass.

Cassie didn't slow. She worked her tongue in firm, rhythmic flicks, her fingers curling and tapping inside, building pressure like she was tuning Alice to a frequency only she could hear.

Alice gasped. Then she howled. "Oh fuck, oh fuuuck, what are you... I can't...."

Her orgasm ripped through her - hard and high and unmistakable. Her whole body bucked, thighs clenching, voice echoing off the glass as Cassie held her through it, mouth still working, tongue still teasing.

And then... splash.

A gush of release soaked Cassie's chin and hand. Alice squirted, loud and unashamed, riding the aftershocks with her legs buckling, her mouth open in stunned, primal pleasure.

Cole watched through the glass, jaw slack.

Cassie finally slowed. Let her settle. Then looked up, cum on her lips, and grinned.

"Now that," she said, voice triumphant, "is how a woman finishes."

Alice could barely breathe. But she nodded, her eyes glassy.

Cassie looked up once, locking eyes with Cole through the glass, her lips wet and glistening. She smiled, a smile that said I'm in control here.

Then she stood.

"My go, baby," she whispered to Alice, voice filled with lust.

Alice dropped to her knees without hesitation. She pulled Cassie closer, kissing her inner thighs, then licking her slowly from the base up. Cassie groaned and looked out over the balcony, eyes catching the skyline - then towards Cole again, now standing.

She spread her legs wider, letting Alice in deeper.

Behind the glass, Cole's hand worked faster.

Alice stood again, guiding Cassie to turn, to lean forward over the railing, ass pushed out, tits hanging over the balcony.

Alice reached between Cassie's legs from behind, her fingers finding Cassie's clit, circling and teasing, before slipping easily into her waiting slit.

Cassie's moans spilled out into the night, hips bucking as Alice worked her harder and faster. The wet sound of fingers on slick pussy echoed softly under the thrum of the city.

"Fuck, yes..." Cassie mouthed, hoarsely. ""Don't you fucking dare stop...."

Then it came: Cassie tensing, back arching, thighs trembling as she came hard against Alice's hand. She let a faltering groan out into the night air, her legs shaking and barely able to stand.

Alice kept going. One, two, three fingers now, pushing deeper into her. Cassie threw her head back in delight, tits held high.

She slammed both palms against the railing, moaning through another orgasm that rocked her like thunder.

They couldn't see but behind them in the room, Cole was stroking faster now, mouth open, cock swelling hard.

Alice climbed to her feet and pulled Cassie into another hot and desperate kiss.

When the kiss broke, Cassie looked into Alice's eyes. "Let him rejoin us?" she asked, hot and flushed from pleasure and the humid Tennessee air.

***

As they pulled away from the kiss they turned toward the glass doors of the suite.

There stood Cole. Naked. Cock in hand, fog on the glass from his breath.

Cassie tilted her head, raised a single finger, and wagged it slowly in mock admonishment.

Then, holding his gaze, she stepped to the balcony hot tub, still letting steam curl into the night.

Two fingers now, calling him.

Cole was through the door in seconds, cock bouncing, steps urgent. He moved like a man on the brink - hungry, reverent, ready to fall to his knees in worship.

Cassie met him with a grin and a fresh bottle of champagne. She popped the cork with a wicked twist, foam hissing and spilling, and poured three generous flutes.

Then they slid into the water together - bodies naked, wet, and electric beneath the moon. The hot tub churned around them, swirling with steam.

Cassie instructed him to put on a rubber and straddled him first.

Her tits rode the surface, water beading off her skin, nipples stiff in the night air. She took a sip of champagne, then set the glass aside, bracing herself on his chest as she lowered onto him - slow, inch by inch, until her pussy swallowed him whole.

Cole groaned, hands gripping her hips like a man anchoring himself to the world.

Cassie moved with the control of a queen - hips rolling, pace measured, milking him with every stroke. Her moans were low and knowing, punctuated by gasps as Alice circled behind them, lips at her neck, fingers tugging at her nipples.

The kiss Cassie gave Alice over her shoulder was messy, wet, and full of passion. "You take over," she whispered.

Alice didn't wait.

She climbed up, breasts bobbing, mouth still wine-sweet. She kissed Cassie again, slower this time, then took Cassie's place in Cole's lap with a laugh that bordered on a growl. Her pussy took him easily, already soaked, desperate for him.

Alice rode him like a storm. Faster and hard, her rhythm filthy and relentless, all hips and clenched thighs and breathless gasps. Water slapped around them as Cole's moans turned more and more ragged.

Cassie slid closer, hand dipping beneath the surface. She found Alice's clit and pressed hard, stroking.

Within seconds Alice was choking on a moan, her head thrown back. "Jesus... fuck... Cassie...."

She came with a violent shudder, nails digging into Cole's shoulders, her body spasming as Cassie stroked with the precision of a pro.

Then Cassie slipped to the edge of the tub. She stood and bent over the edge, hands on the cool tile, arse high and gleaming in the moonlight.

She looked over her shoulder. "Come on, frontman. Don't keep the crowd waiting."

Alice eased off Cole and moved to the side, lifting her champagne flute to her lips.

Cole stepped behind Cassie and gripped her hips. Then drove into her with a wet slap that echoed across the rooftop. The rhythm was savage. No pretence now, just urgent and needy fucking.

Cassie moaned loud, eyes shut, face turned to the stars. "Fuck... yes... don't stop...."

Alice watched, lip between her teeth, fingers swirling on her own sex. "Make her scream," she whispered, barely audible.

Cassie clawed the tiles, her whole body locked, and then... she let go. She came again, back arching and legs trembling, cry torn from her lungs like a storm breaking the skyline.

When it was over she turned, panting, to Alice.

Time for the finale.

They knelt side by side, water bubbling around them. Their mouths parted, eyes wide.

Cole stood before them, condom removed, his cock flushed and furious in his grip.

Cassie ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

It didn't take long. He stroked himself with fast, desperate pumps, and when he came, it was brutal - thick ropes shooting across their cheeks, their lips, and their tongues.

Cassie closed her eyes and let it paint her. Alice gasped, then giggled, licking a strand from her lip before leaning in and kissing Cassie again - cum-slick, mouths filthy and tangled.

Cole slumped back into the water with a moan, arms limp, chest heaving. He looked less like a man and more like a sacrifice to sex and filth and god knows what.

Cassie wiped her cheek with a finger and sucked it clean. She looked at Alice. Then back at Cole.

"Nashville," she said, exhaling. "Still full of surprises."

***

The bubbles softened around them now, the frenzy fading into heavy breath and lazy ripples. The air was cooler above the water, but their bodies were still burning.

Cassie refilled the flutes. Her hand steady and gaze sharp.

Cole reclined against the far edge of the tub, eyes half-shut. He looked dazed - like a man who'd just won the lottery and immediately been told he had days to live.

Cassie sipped. Then said, without turning: "You've had your fun and served your purpose, star boy."

Cole blinked. "Wait... what?"

She turned her head slightly, fixing him with a look that didn't need to raise its voice. "You can let yourself out. Towels are by the door."

Alice tried to stifle a grin and failed.

Cassie didn't smile. "You'll be fine. I told you you were here for our purpose only. Just don't trip over your ego on the way out."

Cole glanced between them, still too stunned and too spent to argue. He blinked, nodded once - like a man leaving church after witnessing a miracle - and disappeared inside.

Silence, for a few minutes. Then the distant click of the hotel door.

Cassie leaned back into the hot tub, stretching her arms wide along the edge. Her skin glowed.

Alice slid closer, nuzzling her neck.

"That was..." Alice breathed. "Insane."

Cassie finally smiled. "All the best shows finish with an encore," she said, tipping her glass toward the skyline.

Alice looked up, eyes curious, a little drunk, a little wrecked.

"You staying the night?" Cassie asked, already knowing the answer.

Alice didn't speak. She just climbed onto Cassie's lap, straddling her in the water, and kissed slowly - lips soft and searching, like she'd finally found the only stage that mattered.