The Hostel Affair

The Hostel Affair

By Blake Ryder

1

If you'd said the threesome with Becca would end with my girlfriend and me almost auctioned off as sex slaves in a European warehouse... I might've asked for details.

Almost is doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence. Becca was that good.

In more ways than one.

The night started in a Berlin techno club. Lexi and I had been backpacking a month, and I'd never felt more like a tourist than right then.

The floor thumped under my boots. I felt the vibration in my bones. Cold fans worked overtime while sweat glued my shirt to my neck.

Lex danced three steps ahead, hips swinging like sin with a visa.

She looked like a fever dream: vintage lace bralette, ratty kimono, denim shorts cut high. She raised her arms, let strangers close in, then caught my eye with that brat grin. The one that made me think: wife material.

Not tonight, though. Tonight we were hungry. Both of us.

We'd done it her way once before.

Sideways on a hotel bed: Lex in my lap, my cock deep in her ass, Kyle on the other side pounding her cunt like he'd been starving for it.

His balls kissed my shaft every thrust. Slippery and hot. It made my dick head quiver when our balls touched.

I'm not gay. But I'd be a liar if I said I didn't enjoy the experience.

Three sets of legs tangled. Sweat. Hair. Raw skin.

I barely fucked. I just laid there, balls-deep in Lexi's ass while they thrashed.

University makes you try things.

Now it was my turn.

Two months after graduation. We'd been in Berlin five nights and struck out five times.

Lexi eye-fucked every girl we saw. She wanted this as bad as I did. Maybe worse. She liked girls. I liked watching her like girls.

We scanned every dance floor, every bar, every hostel. From Barcelona to Berlin.

In Paris, we came close. A blonde who kissed us both but bolted the second Lex peeled her top.

Berlin teased us too: a Dutch girl our first night. Drunk promises. Gone by dawn.

So we walked back to the hostel at three a. m., silent. Me, blue-balled. Lexi, pissed. Both too tired to argue about it.

Our private room was our temple. We were young, dumb, and restless. We fucked raw every night--including before the club--but it wasn't enough.

We needed that threesome. But sometimes you find what you're searching for when you stop looking.

The hostel kitchen light was on when we crept in, shoes squeaking like rats on tile. I expected some drunk kid microwaving noodles.

Instead, it was her.

Blonde, maybe mid-thirties. Dark roots showing in a controlled way. She wore big vintage frames--not like a hipster or a librarian. Like a mom. Like a woman hiding behind glass.

Small tits, no bra. Blue spaghetti-strap crop top thin enough to show the colour and the shape of her nipples. Pink athletic shorts clung to her hips like they were scared to slip off.

"Oh," she said, warm American accent. "Didn't hear you come in."

My gut said that was a lie.

She killed the burner and poured soup from a dented pot. When she moved, her thighs brushed. Her glutes shifted under skin that said 'I fought for this' without ever seeing the inside of a gym.

She turned, biting into a piece of hard cheese.

"You two are cute," she said. "Trying too hard to look German. I can't tell if you're supposed to be on the run or just sexually frustrated."

Lexi and I looked at each other.

"Cheese?" she offered.

Lexi moved first. Nodded. Took a piece.

"Thank you," she said.

The woman smiled. Her eyes flicked to me. Eyebrows raised.

I shook my head.

"No, thank you," I said.

"So polite," she said. "Canadian?"

"D. C.," I said, as Lexi munched her cheese.

"Oh," the woman said. "I'm sorry."

She pressed her foot down as she spun to her soup. The meat of her leg tightened. Her thighs were soft columns of milky skin. She had a behind that demanded attention. If her legs were the frame, her butt was the painting.

"You two here for my ass?"

Lexi's jaw dropped with mine. I might've seen a piece of cheese fall from her mouth, but I wasn't sure. My ears were still processing the words while my eyes stayed locked on that tight little bum.

The woman turned, adjusted her glasses, and passed us, bowl in hand, smile carved from insider knowledge.

Lex and I stood there. I was a statue with a hard-on. Lex's scent had changed, blossoming from below. She shot me a quick glance, uncertain. I shrugged, pulse racing. We followed her.

Her ass rolled left, then right. A hypnotist's watch. Pure muscle and mischief. Her shorts cut high enough to flash cheek. Round enough to frame her thighs like question marks. Tight enough you could drop a coin and watch it bounce back at you.

She hit the stairs.

Lex cracked first--voice too loud for three a. m.

"Wait."

The woman paused. Turned. Tongue tucked in her cheek. Curious eyes scanned us.

Lexi was silent.

"You let her do all the talking?" The woman said.

We glanced at each other.

"Can we..." I fumbled. Have some of your soup? Fuck you in the ass?

Lexi said nothing.

The woman's behind was still wrecking our brains. She stood sideways, one foot on the first step, hip cocked just enough to lift one cheek and sculpt a perfect dip of lower back.

"My room?" she asked. Too casual.

If you'd told me that question would end with Lex and me nearly auctioned off in a European sex slave market, I'd have still said yes.

2

She waited for our answer. Eyes unsure but curious.

She was shorter than both of us. And Lex is five-three. Her head looked a bit big for her body, and from above she thickened at the waist. Maybe an illusion.

"A little young, aren't ya?" she said.

Lex and I just stared, mouths open, dumb as bricks.

She sighed. "Well... you know where to find me."

Then she turned and walked up the stairs.

We stayed frozen watching. Her bare feet thumped softly. Her calves flexed and released, tight as ripe fruit. The pink fabric rode higher with every step.

"Oh god," Lex whispered.

"Shh," I grinned.

She carried that ass like a purse too full to empty. Heavy, alive, bouncing once per step.

Two soft halves guided by bone and appetite. A faint crease where cheek met thigh.

The small of her back caught the hallway light. A pale strip of skin between cloth. A bullseye.

At the top, she slowed. Gave one last look. Then slipped into the dark.

We didn't think.

Lex moved first, two steps at a time. I followed.

We hit the landing together, breath ragged. Maybe from the stairs. Maybe from the prayer we hoped was about to be answered.

A door stood cracked. Yellow lamplight spilled out. A low video hummed inside.

Lex knocked. No answer. But the knock nudged the door wider.

I loomed behind her. Reached over. Pushed it open.

"Hello?" I said.

My voice sounded steady, but my heart wasn't.

I was hard. Electricity buzzed in my cock. It was doing the thinking. Maybe the talking, too.

I pressed against Lex's ass. My stiffness nudged exactly where she expected. She moved.

We stepped into the private hostel room.

A single bed, neatly made. A laptop played muted news by the window. Steam rose from the soup. A loveseat sat empty in the corner.

No sign of her.

Lexi and I locked eyes--same look: what the fuck.

"Where'd she go?" Lex said.

The closet door flew open.

The woman burst out, a silver handgun in hand. Same crop top. Same velvet shorts. But now she looked terrifying.

I yanked Lex back. We almost toppled the desk. The soup wobbled.

The woman didn't shout or rage. She had cat-with-a-mouse energy. Her blue eyes glittered.

"Knew you two were too young," she said. "Clocked you the second you checked in."

"Please don't kill us," Lex blurted.

The woman's smile twitched. Disgust flashed across her face. The gun dipped half an inch.

"Are you... crying? Jesus."

Then she caught herself. Raised the barrel again.

"Doesn't matter. Start talking, or the staff'll have a hell of a time scraping your brains off the wall."

Lexi sobbed. No sound, just her shoulders shaking. I held her tight. Then felt the warmth.

She'd pissed herself.

The woman's eyes dropped. She saw it too. Something crossed her face. Not pit but a crack in confidence. The muzzle stayed steady, but her energy dimmed.

"Who do you think we are?" I said, low. Anything to buy a second.

"Shut up." Her eyes locked on mine, but I saw it.

Doubt coiled behind the threat. Silence thickened the room. The laptop droned on, soft and eerie.

It was three-thirty a. m., maybe later.

"Why'd you follow me?" she asked.

Her eyes to Lex, then the stain on her cutoffs.

"You told us to," I said.

"I did not."

Lexi whimpered a wet hiccup.

"You said, 'You know where to find me.'" I said. "You asked if we wanted your ass."

I raised a hand, a half-gesture. She twitched the gun, so I dropped it. Pulled Lexi close again.

"We're just tourists," Lex whispered. Her voice was shredded.

The woman held our gaze. The barrel didn't waver.

Then--just like that--she slipped the gun behind her back. One hand still on it.

Her chin lifted at me. "Name."

"Andrew Brown."

She turned to Lex. Lexi croaked hers out.

"And you two really are just a couple of dumb young backpackers," she muttered. Her eyes swept over us like we were strangers again.

Lexi shuddered. Then stiffened. She sucked air through her nose, like her lungs had forgotten how.

"And who the fuck are you?" she snapped.

The bite was back. She always had a way of reclaiming herself.

The woman smiled. Pulled her hands from behind her back. Palms out. No gun.

She crossed her arms. Killed the free nipple show under that spaghetti-strap crop top. But it raised the fabric, revealing the outline of abs, a soft inward dip. Her hip flared wide with just enough bone peeking through. But the thighs. Thick at the top. Pressed close. Tapered strong down to the knee.

Sex, written in muscle.

"Let's go," Lexi said.

I blinked out of it. Realized we'd been standing in silence too long. Lex and I took a step forward.

"Wait," the woman said.

She turned, bent, shoved the gun back in the closet. The curve of her ass almost made me forgive her.

When she faced us again, the edge in her jaw was gone. She looked softer now. More human. She held up blue denim shorts.

"I'm a little wider than you," she said, nodding at Lexi. "These were too tight. Please... take them. I'm sorry."

Lexi blinked. Slowly reached out. Took them.

I watched her. Watched her fingers brush the woman's.

"What's your name," I said.

"Becca," she said. "Just Becca. And you're Andrew and Lexi. Just two American tourists. Lexi, you're originally from the Midwest, right?"

She nodded.

"Knew I caught a faint accent."

"You're American too?" Lex asked, still holding the shorts like they might disappear.

Becca's eyes drifted up and right. Then back.

"Once upon a time," she said. "Arizona. Long ago."

Lexi and I finally looked at each other for the first time since the closet.

We didn't speak.

Who is she? Are we screwed?

Becca watched us trade that look. She sighed.

"Sorry again about the gun. Really."

No one moved.

She thumbed behind her. "Private bathroom. Halfway down the hall. First door on the left. If you miss it, you'll crash into the male dorms. Trust me--you'll hear the snoring first."

She smiled. Small and awkward. We didn't laugh.

She glanced at the desk. Her voice came small.

"My soup's getting cold."

That snapped us out of it. Lex's mouth opened before my brain caught up.

"We thought you wanted a threesome."

Becca's eyes shot up. Lexi, then me, then back to Lexi again. Her mouth open.

"What?" she laughed. A short, incredulous bark.

"The way you looked at us in the kitchen," Lexi said. "Asking about your butt. And then at the bottom of the stairs, and--"

She trailed off. It sounded thinner out loud.

I tried to replay the last ten minutes. Nothing made sense now.

"I thought you wanted my ass. As in kill me," Becca said.

That shut us up fast. The reel jammed in my head.

Lex let out a flat, humorless laugh. "What?"

Becca shrugged like it was nothing.

"I've been here a week. That's pushing it already. I thought you two were sent to do the job."

"The job?" Lexi said. "Of killing you? Why?"

Becca smiled. Tired and knowing. She looked a decade older but carried lifetimes more.

"People want me dead. I thought you were them. I'm truly sorry."

Her blue eyes landed on Lex, then me. Warm and real.

She nodded at the desk behind us. "Mind?"

Becca moved before we answered. We jumped out of her way. If she noticed, she didn't let on.

We swapped sides in the cramped room. Now the bed was on our right, the closet behind us.

Becca sat at the desk, angled toward us, and lifted the bowl. She drank straight from it.

Lexi and I watched her drain the soup in three gulps. Her thighs pressed together on the chair, making her ass pop just right. I grounded myself with a hand on Lex's hip.

Becca sucked the last drop, then smacked her lips.

"Damn good soup," she said, licking one lip. "Never take for granted a warm meal. Although--" she held it up, "a little more lukewarm than I planned."

Her eyes dropped to the piss stain on Lex's cutoffs. Then to the jeans shorts still in her hand. She raised her brows.

"Bathroom's down the hall, or you can change here. Your call."

She winked.

She turned to the laptop but not before moving her eyes over mine. A momentary spark.

Lexi and I faced off. Her eyes were dry now. Calm. A little red around the edges.

She raised an eyebrow--Well?

I shrugged. Why not?

She licked her lips. Bit the bottom one. Then unbuttoned the cutoffs and let them drop.

Becca spun around in her chair. No pretense. She stared straight at Lex's hips.

We'd dressed to impress that night.

Lex's thong was dark blue mesh, cut high on the hips and low at the front--a V begging for trouble. Her curves flared soft on either side.

I felt myself thicken as Becca took her in.

Lex's legs weren't long, but they were lethal. Coiled like a dancer's. The kind perfect for locking behind my neck or bracing against her apartment's shower tiles.

Her thighs and calves weren't hardened muscle. Neither of us were gym rats. We didn't have that taut, athletic tone Becca dripped with.

But we were young. And Europe was carving us lean from all the pavement pounding. Lex's legs were tighter than usual.

Her panties were damp with piss, so she slipped them off right there.

Her skin was flawless. She had a faint tan line from sunning half-naked on a rooftop in Barcelona. She'd waxed before the flight and it was still holding.

Becca licked her lips. Eyes glued to Lex's bare triangle. She dragged her gaze up and down like she owned it.

"You'll want a wipe," she murmured, dreamy.

Lex shot me a look, playful and caught. Then turned back to Becca.

Becca blinked, snapped back. "Sorry. A wet wipe. I have one."

She moved before us, roses and sweat in her wake. Something else too. A tang of want. Or maybe I was just high on the moment.

Lexi and I watched her bend over and look under the desk. On all fours, digging around. Face down, ass up.

Yoga shorts clung to her ass like sin. Blonde hair fell around her face--not that either of us was looking there.

Her lower back arched. Thighs pressed wide. Pale and plush. Ready to bounce once you earned it.

I had to consciously blink. From shoulders to waist, Becca was a polite slope. From waist down, her wicked curves murdered thought.

I glanced at Lexi for permission. She didn't see. She was too busy also eye-fucking Becca, breath held.

Becca straightened up, turned, held out a flimsy box of wipes. One peeked up like a white flag.

Her eyes were blue. Hungry.

"Please," she said.

Lexi plucked the top wipe. Becca smiled and then moved fast. She grabbed my wrist, twisted it, left the whole box in my hand. Smooth as silk. No time for questions. We stood in a tight triangle: me, Lexi, Becca.

Lexi dabbed herself. Shy. Strange on her, she was the bold one between us. The flirt. The extrovert.

But Becca had tilted something inside her. More gravity than fear. I could feel it.

"So," Lexi said, voice small, eyes on the floor. "What brings you to Berlin, Becca?"

Becca sighed--loud and theatrical. Then punched me in the arm, hard enough to sting.

"You're just gonna stand there and let her do that alone?"

Her eyes locked on mine. The spark was back.

Before I could answer, she snatched two wipes from my hand, dropped to her knees in front of Lex, and got to work.

Lexi gasped.

Becca hushed her. "Shhh..."

She cleaned gently. Wipe dragging up Lex's inner thighs. Brushing her mound. Gliding over her lips.

Careful and practiced.

She folded the cloth in her palm, made it last. I handed her another.

"Thank you, Andrew," she said, smiling with her eyes.

This time, before she swiped the wipe, Becca braced Lexi's thigh with one hand. Lexi gasped again, but softer now. More controlled.

I stood there, box in hand, cock like a hammer behind my zipper, watching my half-naked girlfriend get a sponge bath from a blonde in velvet yoga shorts stretched to their limit.

Lex slid a hand into Becca's hair. Fingers curling. Her eyes shut. Mouth set.

I knew that face. And all Becca had done was wipe her clean.

"Alexis," Becca whispered into her front.

Lexi whimpered. She was still wet but it was no longer piss.

Becca let the used wipe fall, then leaned in.

She kissed Lex's mound softly. Just lips. No tongue. A peck above her slit. Then one on the plush right edge. Then the left.

Lex whimpered louder. Her hand flew up, reaching blindly toward me.

Come here. Now. Like she'd die if I didn't.

I didn't think.

I tossed the wet wipes on the desk--maybe dropped them, who knows--and cupped Lex's face. Kissed her hard. My other hand found her chest.

My leg brushed Becca's shoulder as her mouth moved lower.

"Oh god--" Lexi gritted behind the kiss, knees buckling.

Becca and I caught her--me by the waist, Becca gripping her ass and lower back.

We locked eyes and laughed.

Lexi just beamed, her cheeks flushed pink.

"I need to lie down," she breathed.

Becca stood, hands on her hips, eyes between us like she wasn't sure who to interrogate first.

"So... you two came to Europe for a threesome, huh?"

Lexi and I both shrugged. Dumb tourists.

"We did it a few months ago," Lexi said. "With another guy."

"And now--" Becca smirked at me. "It's his turn."

Lexi looked at me but spoke to Becca.

"He didn't mind Kyle."

"Oooh. Kyle," Becca teased. Voice full of mischief.

Her hands criss-crossed. She pulled off her top. It hit the floor like it weighed nothing. Becca stood there, topless, hands on her hips, daring me to look.

Didn't have to dare me twice.

Her tits weren't big. Small even for her build. But large enough to be responsive. The kind that moved when she did.

Teardrop curves from collarbone to tip, like a slow exhale in skin. Areolas like tiny coins. Dusk-pink. Nipples pointed dead center, hard and ready.

Small tits. Dangerous ones.

"--Andrew."

Lex's voice snapped me out of it. Becca stifled a laugh.

Lexi was smiling, but I knew that smile. It came with warning lights.

"We need to talk rules," she said.

She was still naked from the waist down. Her cunt stank with more than just nerves. Becca stood half-naked too, waist up, watching Lex like a cat eyeing cream.

Meanwhile, I was still fully dressed for some dumb fucking reason. My cock pressing my pants like it would break in two to escape.

I swallowed hard. Tried to pull my brain out of my zipper.

"Right," I said, eyes bouncing between them, trying not to get hypnotized by Becca's bare chest.

Lex started listing rules. Same ones as with Kyle. No sleepover. No raw-dogging.

"I'm clean," Becca said. "And on birth control."

Lex's mouth dropped open.

"It's not about that," I said, covering. "It's more... intimacy--"

"That's fine," Lex cut me off.

Her eyes were wide now. Wired. I froze.

That look--I'd seen it once before. Colorado. Winter break. Lexi on uppers, me on boner pills. A ski cabin we never left. Sweat. Teeth marks. Permanent wet spots on the bed. Days of nothing but sex.

She looked at me like prey that weekend. It was the same look she was giving Becca.

"Fuck her raw," Lexi whispered. Spit pooled on her lip.

"Like this," Becca said.

She turned and bent at the waist. No knee bend, just straight down. Palms flat on the floor. Her ass stared back like sunlight cracking open a tomb. Then she snapped upright. Cocked her head over her shoulder. Smirked.

Lexi and I probably looked just like we had in the kitchen: wide mouths, empty heads.

"There's also this."

She sank to the floor, legs sliding smooth. In seconds she was in a perfect split--one leg forward, one back.

She looked up. Blonde hair spilling down her upper back. Dark roots peeking through. Retro glasses framing her eyes.

"You two ever do yoga?"

I don't remember shaking my head. Don't remember what I mumbled. I just remember Lex behind me yanking my pants down in one savage tug.

Becca laughed. I stumbled backward toward the bed. Lex pushed. Becca guided.

Becca's eyes danced like playful chaos. Lex's eyes were pure animalistic. Needing this for reasons she might not even know.

For me, everything blurred.

One beat I was upright. The next I was flat on my back. On the bed. Pants gone. Shirt off and dick hard.

Lexi was on the bed, peeling off her top. Becca latched onto her nipples before they were even free. Lex yanked down Becca's shorts.

I sat up and kissed Becca. Grabbed her ass. Palms greedy. Lex's mouth was on my neck.

They both pushed me back.

Two faces hovered at my cock. They straddled my thighs. Warm and slick.

Lexi on the left. Becca on the right.

Lex grabbed my base. Her other hand swept hair from her face. Becca stared like she hadn't seen a dick in a decade.

"Want to do the honors?" Lexi teased.

Becca didn't answer.

Her eyes met mine--distant and daring--then her mouth swallowed me whole.

Head and shaft gone.

Lex's mouth hit mine. Tongue and sweat. Then she slid down my chest with her tongue. Tasting me until her lips found my balls.

My hands clutched each of their arms. Knuckles white. Their chests pressed hot to my thighs. Nipples tracing skin. Wet heat.

Lexi had my balls locked in her mouth like she was solving a riddle with her tongue. Sloppy and relentless and insane.

Becca worked my shaft with column precision. Tongue twirling like she was writing cursive every time she pulled off.

I bunched Becca's hair. Grunted. Helpless.

My vision blurred. My hips dipped into the mattress. No chance I'd last.

Becca didn't use hands. Just deep-throated me, pulling back, swallowing again. Each time, tongue dragging along my shaft.

Wet gurgles echoed in the room.

"Ughh--ugggh--uggghhh," her throat choked around me.

Lex hunted below. Tongue on my taint and applying pressure. Her free hand braced my thigh. I clutched her arm.

I breathed. My hips jerked violently. I focused on the two naked bodies in front of me.

Becca's lips slid. Mouth stretched. Nose wrinkled. Glasses slipping with every thrust.

Her eyes never left mine. It was giving me tunnel vision. Dark stars swam at the edges of my sight.

My balls drew tight. Vision pulsed white.

Lexi's mouth returned to my balls. Her hand pressed my abs--feeling for the moment.

Becca's hand joined her. Two sets of fingers using my chest for leverage.

Then I saw Becca's other hand. It traced slow, lazy lines down Lex's bare back and grabbed a meaty cheek of my girlfriend's ass.

That did it.

"I'm going--" I croaked.

Becca didn't stop.

My hips rose. She shoved both hands under me. Gripped my ass. Drove me deeper into her throat.

I erupted.

Hips lifted. My dick spasmed in her mouth. Her hands held me in. My balls slapped her chin.

She took it. Swallowed it all.

She choked once. Swallowed again. Eyes wet with tears.

"Oh wow..." Lex whispered.

Becca pulled off, panting. Sweat glistened on her chest. Her small tits rose and fell. Her skin flushed red.

"Thank you," she breathed.

I was lightheaded. Panting. Waved her off like don't mention it.

Becca wiped her mouth. Locked eyes with Lex.

The spark was instant.

"Okay," she said. Voice low and wicked.

She looked at me, then back at Lex.

"Your turn while he recovers."

3

I sat back against the headboard, watching Becca eat my girlfriend's cunt like she was chasing something buried deep.

Like a secret to life.

And judging by Lexi's moans, she was getting close.

Lexi lay flat, stretched sideways across the bed. Becca crouched over her. Low and focused. Her fingers were long and quick, curling inside Lex with that teasing come-here hook.

Her tongue circled Lexi's swollen clit--slow, wet, unhurried. I'd made Lex come before. But I'd never got her clit shining like that.

"Ohhhh," Lex moaned. Her lips shaped a tight O, like anything louder might break the spell.

Her head dropped off the mattress, then lifted again with a chest-heaving breath. Her hands tangled in Becca's hair, eyes pinched shut from pleasurable ache.

I could hear her now--soft breath catching at the top, a rasp in her throat, the wet friction between her thighs.

I could smell it. Sex, heat, sweat, salt, Lex's particular scent I knew better than home.

My gaze trailed down Becca's back. Ass up. Face buried. I was hard as pipe. Recovery time over.

I crawled toward them. My palms traced Becca's warm muscle under soft skin. The slope of her hips.

I cupped one of her breasts--firm and flushed, the nipple stiff against my thumb.

My cock pressed along her thigh, then rested at the small of her back. Both hands found her waist. Her body pulsed as Lex gasped beneath her.

Becca turned, lips glossy, breath short. She smirked.

"Sure you can handle me?"

I answered by pushing in deep.

With Lex, it was all feel: plush and unseen. A soft wall of ass. But Becca? Her ass was tight, hips flared, and I could see it.

I could watch it happen.

Her cheeks lifted, tight and parted. Her asshole twitched every time I bottomed out.

Becca's eyes shut tight. Her mouth fell open in a silent moan. She dropped forward, elbows sinking into the mattress, ass still high.

Lex grabbed her face and pulled her into a sloppy kiss.

I slid deeper. Tight. Hot. Different.

Not better, just new. A warm, gripping unknown.

I eased back, savoring it. Lexi pressed her chest into Becca's mouth, looked up at me and smiled.

I smiled back, gripping Becca's hips, easing into a rhythm I never wanted to end.

Becca lifted onto her hands, flexing around me like she'd trained for it.

Lex liked surprises. So I grabbed her ankles and dragged her beneath Becca's body. She yelped, half-laughing.

"Shh," I whispered. "You'll wake the whole hostel."

"Oh please," Becca shot back.

She looked over her shoulder with my cock buried to the hilt.

"Nobody hears a thing up here. Not over the snoring from the men's dorms."

I tightened my grip on her hips but held steady as Lex made herself comfortable under Becca, shuffling around until her head was directly beneath us.

"Oh god," Lex moaned. "Andrew, I can see your balls. I bet I could--"

She didn't finish.

She lifted her head. Sucked the spot where Becca and I met. Where we were creating heat and tension and friction and wet.

"Whoa," Becca gasped. Her hand flew to her clit.

I started thrusting--deeper, faster--but still controlled. Each push forward brought new warmth and wetness from Becca and Lexi's mouth.

I'd read about numbing gel once. The kind porn guys use. I should've looked for some. This was getting too hot. Too dangerous.

I let my thoughts drift. Anything to slow the inevitable. If my brain wandered, I could stretch this out.

But Lexi's tongue didn't let up.

Then Becca arched her back. Like barebacking her on all fours wasn't already goddamn overload.

I hooked my arms around hers, pulling her back into me. My fingers latching onto her forearms like lifelines.

Lex stayed latched on below. Every thrust into Becca brought her tongue right to that tender spot. It was slick, greedy, maddening.

I couldn't last. Not with Becca gripping me. Not with Lexi polishing me.

I fought it. Hammered Becca harder. Fast and deep. Trying to bully Lexi's mouth away with every smack of flesh.

Didn't work. She stayed right there.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

Becca melted under me. Her ass a perfect shape--firm but lush, back arched in a smooth, greedy line.

She bucked back, meeting every stroke.

"Fuck me, Andrew," she hissed.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

Lex's tongue kept stealing the air my cock needed.

I tried to hold on. Focused on the dip of Becca's back. The slick slope into heaven.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

Didn't help. Nothing helped.

The heat was crawling up my spine.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Sla--

I pulled out, grunting. Becca's arms dropped free.

Lex didn't miss a beat. She dove in on Becca's cunt, burying her face, fingers spreading across Becca's lower back.

I staggered back. Cock throbbing. Chest heaving.

I steadied myself with a palm full of Becca's ass--warm, real, soft flesh over tight muscle.

A reminder: this was real. This was happening. Two smooth hills. The finest I'd ever touched.

Lexi lifted her face from Becca's cunt. It was slick and flushed. She looked up at me from under Becca--huge eyes, shiny and wrecked.

Before I could speak, she swallowed me.

"Shit--" I groaned. My fingers knotted in her hair--half pulling, half clinging.

"Uh oh," Becca giggled, swaying her hips in a lazy taunt.

Lex pulled off, panting. Spit gleamed on her lips. Her eyes were glazed.

"Don't worry," she said, breath catching. "I know when you're close."

"I'm close," I panted.

"Then--" Becca cut in, sliding forward, lifting one leg over Lexi and stretching beside her.

I almost told her to stay put--that ass was a fucking masterpiece--but Lex was here too. I couldn't look too hungry for what wasn't mine.

Lexi turned onto her stomach. Becca adjusted beside her--skin pressed to skin.

Two naked women. Legs bent at the knees. Feet touching. Hips aligned.

Both of them smooth and bare, glistening under the cheap hostel light.

Heads turned toward me, aligned at the bed's edge. Matching smirks. Like they knew exactly what I'd do next.

"If you're gonna have a threesome..." Becca said, low and steady, eyes locked on mine.

She brushed her mouth against the nape of Lexi's neck. Moaning slightly.

"... you should do it right."

Her hand traced down Lexi's back and took a handful of ass. Lex looked rattled. Rare for her.

Becca owned the moment. Her blue eyes locked with mine. A quiet command behind them.

Well? they said. What the fuck are you waiting for?

I stood over them. Cock still raging. Red, slick, and ready. My breath slowed. Control slipping back into my hands.

Lexi met my eyes. A shy grin.

"Fuck our mouths," she whispered.

Becca squealed, grabbed Lex's chin, and mashed their lips together.

I stroked myself slow, testing the edge.

They broke the kiss giggling, rolled onto their backs, tongues out like naughty patients at a filthy doctor's office.

My vision blurred before I touched skin.

I squatted over Lexi first. She guided me in with steady fingers. Opened her throat like she'd done this before -- which she had.

I braced my hands on the bedframe and fucked into her mouth. Lips straining wide. Her throat hugged me deep.

Becca's hands ghosted down my sides. Down to my ass. Guiding every thrust.

Lex could always take it -- but tonight, she felt possessed. Her throat bulged with each push, an obscene slick outline stretching her neck.

Becca kissed the moving bulge. Her hand cupped Lexi's breast, thumb teasing the stiff nipple.

Lexi's tits were bigger than Becca's, but tonight they looked small compared to how much skin my hands craved. I cupped them both in an upside-down hands bra -- palms full of weight and sweat.

I fucked harder. Lexi's breath hitched. Becca's fingers clamped around my forearms like handlebars.

Each thrust jammed pressure against the head of my cock -- heat firing straight up my spine.

Then -- first time ever -- Lex tapped my thigh.

I slid free. Breath caught.

Becca didn't wait.

She lay back. Tongue out.

"Ahhh" like she'd waited years for this.

I didn't blink.

I lined up. Fed it to her. Slow.

Lex clung to my arms. Rolled half on top of Becca. Nuzzled her neck. Grabbed a breast like it was hers to claim.

Becca's throat was uncharted. I felt it right away -- the tighter squeeze, the trembling pulse under her skin.

She held her breath in ragged gulps, fighting the reflex. I rocked my hips gently. Letting her learn me inch by inch.

A shift in angle -- my tip breached the tight band at the back.

Becca whimpered. A muffled cry that vibrated down my shaft. Warm drool dripped down my balls. Her nose flared against them, breath hot enough to burn.

I pushed further and bottomed out. My hips kissed her face. Her nose buried in my sack. Her throat clamped me like a fist.

I drew back slow. Her gag reflex fluttered -- pulsing bands of grip that made my cock throb.

Then I drove forward again. Steady. Deep. Feeling her stretch around me, throat spasming to take it.

Becca gagged. Eyes watering. But she didn't push me away. She just took it. All of it. Like conquering this was a test she had to pass.

I pulled out. Straightened up. Lungs burning.

Lex's hand clamped my thigh, still kissing Becca's throat, the other hand working her clit.

I planted both palms on Becca's head. Angled her jaw. Pushed back in.

The angle was perfect. I saw my shaft bulge through her throat. A slick, obscene lump under her pale skin.

Lexi kissed it. Stroked it like it was holy.

Becca and I found rhythm. Or maybe I set it for her.

My hands held her in place. Her throat stayed open, whether she liked it or not.

She whimpered into every thrust.

Heavy breaths. Wet smacks. The sound of my hips slamming into her face bounced off the hostel walls.

Her nose breathed ragged, clogged with precum and her own taste dripping back down.

I thrust harder.

Every gag and swallow made her throat squeeze tighter. Made me want to slam deeper.

Becca's hands came up to my ass. I braced for a tap. Ready to stop.

But she didn't tap.

She grabbed a handful of my ass. Pulled herself deeper. Choking and moaning like she needed this as much as I did.

I yanked out before I lost the fight.

Lexi popped to her knees, wide-eyed. Reading me. Concern behind the heat.

I nodded. Breathless. I'm fine. Barely.

I glanced down.

I was squeezing the base of my cock, pinching hard to hold back the explosion.

Becca lay flat. Spit and tears streaked her flushed face. Her tits slick from Lex's mess. Her chest rose fast, skin mottled red, mouth still open.

"OK, well..." Lexi said. Clearing her throat. Voice small, for once. "You haven't fucked me yet..."

She glanced at Becca.

"But you get to choose. If Becca's OK with--"

"Can I swallow it?" Becca cut in. Grinning through wrecked hair.

Lexi snapped her head toward her. Then shot me a quick what the fuck?

"Uh, I mean..." Lex floundered. Rare for her. "If you want."

Becca grinned.

She rolled onto her stomach, stayed low. Eyes locked on mine. Ass swaying like an open door.

"I thought that's what the kids were into these days?" she teased.

"We just never... talked about it," Lex muttered. No edge in her voice now. More curiosity than protest.

Becca didn't need more words.

She pushed to her knees. Pulled Lex in by the waist and planted a sloppy, tongue-heavy kiss on her lips.

I swallowed hard.

My cock twitched in my hand. Angry and ready but holding.

Becca pulled back, biting her lip. Her eyes flicked between us, like she'd just remembered a new sin.

She cupped Lexi's ear. Whispered something. Lex's whole body shivered.

"I don't think so," she said, stealing a glance at me. "He's an ass-virgin."

"Not even a little butt plug?" Becca said.

I instinctively clenched.

Becca cupped Lexi's ear again. Whispered more.

Lexi nodded fast. Pupils blown. Teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

"OK," Lex breathed.

She crawled to the edge of the bed on all fours, never breaking eye contact.

Her tits bounced with each movement. Her hips swayed like she knew what she was doing to me.

She turned. Dropped her face to the mattress. Arched her back.

Perfect.

Her hair spilled over her shoulders, past the edge of the bed. Her skin glowed, streaked with sweat and light.

I'd never get tired of Lexi's ass in that pose. Never.

Her pose pulled her spine into a deep, hungry arch. Hips cocked high. Every curve -- from the small of her back to the soft swell of her thighs -- looked carved.

Sweat traced along bone and soft muscle like paint on canvas.

My eyes drifted up -- ribs flexing, a shy breast swaying free. Bent forward like she was hiding nothing. Back dipped. Hips ready. Skin pale and begging for my hands.

"What're you waiting for, love?" Lex purred in a half dare, half promise.

I stepped toward the bed.

Becca crouched beside her. One hand gripped Lex's ass. Her head tilted back, eyes -- blue and bottomless -- pinning me in place.

She grinned. One hand left Lexi. Found my cock. She pulled me close and swallowed me whole.

Heat and spit soaked me. Her eyes fluttered shut, lost in her work.

I grabbed Lex's ass for balance. Fireworks behind my eyes. Knees threatening collapse.

I tapped Becca's arm, voice cracking.

"Don't..."

"Cum yet?" she teased. Her breath bathed my tip.

Mechanical and rough, she angled me straight into Lex.

The second I sank in, I was home.

But now Becca was here. Making my usual feral routine feel brand new.

She slipped off her glasses. Set her cheek on Lexi's lower back. Inches from where I pumped.

I spread Lex wider. Handful of plush ass -- squeezing hard enough to leave a mark.

Becca's hand found mine. Covered it. Her tongue flicked out. Teased Lex's tight rim.

Her blue eyes locked on mine. A private show.

"Shit--oh fuck," Lex moaned from beneath us.

Her hips jerked at the shock of Becca's tongue on her asshole.

I bucked harder. Our pace turned savage.

Face down. Ass up. We both lived for it.

Normally, I'd have both hands braced on her waist, pulling her back on every stroke. Tonight, only my left hand did the work.

My right gripped Becca's shoulder. Touching more would be my undoing.

Fuck it.

I cupped her face.

Her eyes never flinched. Just jerked her head and soaked my fingers with her mouth.

I slammed into Lex harder.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

"Oh god -- fuck me, Andrew!" Lex's muffled plea cracked against the mattress.

Slap-slap-slap-slap--

I felt myself fracturing. Hips on fire. Thighs burning. Cock fused to Lexi's soaked walls.

Heat crawled up my spine like a lit fuse. Blue eyes pleading for it. Plush ass fat rippling below.

Becca rose to her knees and stole my mouth. My taste, Lexi's sweat, her tongue claiming all of it.

I slowed. Shuddered. Lex whined for more.

Becca broke the kiss. Lips red and wet. Then sank right back down to Lexi's bouncing ass.

"Fuck. My. Cunt," Lexi snarled.

Her voice shredded. Hips hammering back, dragging me deeper, forcing every nerve raw.

Becca put her glasses back on. She hovered inches away. Mouth open. Eyelids fluttering.

One hand clutched Lex's hip. The other locked tight around Becca's arm.

I slammed through Lex's wild twerking. Pounded her until we were nothing but skin, sweat, ragged breath.

Becca's lashes danced. Her mouth a perfect "O."

"Right there -- right there --" Lexi panted.

Her ass slammed back again and again. No stopping. Not until I was all the way gone.

I felt Lexi's hips tense and roll beneath me. I pulled out just as she collapsed, face-down. Her hand dove between her legs like instinct, fingers working her cunt.

Becca didn't wait for me to stroke out the finish. She grabbed my shaft. Flushed face shining.

Unfair advantage, those glasses. She swallowed my tip deep. Her tongue saluted the crown while her hand pumped the rest.

"Oh god--" I choked.

Her free hand slipped lower. Cupped my balls. Rolled them slow and wicked.

"Wait--" Lexi's voice. Sharp and sudden.

She'd caught her breath. Crawled back over, eyes locked on mine, lips parted.

Becca's hand stayed stroking, but Lex replaced her at my balls. Her mouth warm and wet. The tip of my cock still hidden under Becca's red lips.

Black stars needled the edges of my vision. Heat crawled behind my skull. My knees buckled.

I grabbed their hair -- both of them -- grounding myself before the blackout swallowed me whole.

Two sets of eyes staring at me. Brown and blue. The pressure snapped.

I exploded.

A roar tore out of me in hot surges. Becca didn't pull away. She stroked faster. Took me deeper. Every drop gone.

I stumbled back. Half-hard. Breathless.

I leaned against the wall, heart drumming behind my ribs.

What happened next -- part of their whispered plan or just random chaos -- I never thought to ask.

Before I could wipe the sweat from my eyes, Becca grabbed Lexi's waist, dragged her close, and spit my load straight into Lex's open mouth.

Lexi swallowed, glancing at me with a smile I'd never forget. Then pulled Becca her into a deep, messy kiss.

My dick hung soft.

"Drained?" Becca teased, turning to me, eyes bright behind those damn glasses.

Lex crooked her finger.

I shuffled forward and collapsed onto the bed. The three of us tangled together -- sticky, sweaty, panting, and warm.

At some point, blankets found us. Lexi curled around Becca like she'd forgotten I was there. I spooned Lex. Lex spooned Becca.

Rules already broken. No sleepovers, remember?

But rules didn't mean shit tonight. Sometime deep in the dark, Lex murmured in my ear.

"First door on the left, right?"

"Mmhm..." I mumbled into the pillow.

Becca didn't stir.

Lex slipped out.

Bathroom break. Or so I thought.

I never heard her come back. Neither did Becca.

When morning clawed at my eyelids, I woke tangled around the wrong shape. Wider in the hips. More tone. More muscle.

A stranger in the light.

The nape of Becca's neck. No one in front of her. No one behind me.

Lexi was gone.

4

I didn't panic at first. Had no reason to. As sick as it sounds, it didn't even faze me that Lex was missing.

Despite the night we'd had, I woke up hard. Pressed against the small of Becca's back. That perfect curve.

That soft dip. Those lines. My body still wanted more.

Becca sat up, peeling away so my dick didn't touch her. But the sight of her bare back didn't help. She looked over her shoulder like I was a stranger.

Then something clicked behind her eyes.

"Where's Lexi?"

She got up without covering herself.

I didn't answer. Just watched as she opened the closet and threw on a black t-shirt. No bra. She bent to grab green panties.

Hypnotic.

"Bathroom, probably," I said too late to sound convincing.

My gut twisted. Not hunger. Something worse. That tight, sinking wrongness you feel when something isn't right and maybe it's your fault.

Not the threesome.

Not waking up next to Becca. Lex had seemed a little out of her depth last night. Outmatched by Becca's steamrolling alpha vibe.

But it wasn't that. Bathroom, probably. Had she even come back to bed?

Becca left the room without a word. watched her ass disappear while my morning wood still throbbed. Like an idiot.

If any guys were in the hall, they'd get a full view of her thunder thighs in panties.

I got up. Found my pants.

Lexi's clothes were still scattered across the floor. I picked up her bralette and shorts. Odd.

I pictured her in the bathroom. Shirt and panties. Same as Becca. Two girls, one bathroom, I thought, for no reason.

Only, what shirt?

I found more -- panties, the kimono, that extra pair of shorts Becca had given her. Had she gone to the bathroom naked?

Maybe. In the middle of the night. But this was mid-morning. Practically noon. Light filled the window.

The door opened fast. Becca stood there. Eyes locked on mine.

"Uh, where's Lex?" I said, mouth dry.

I was suddenly afraid of the answer.

Afraid this whole thing had been a setup. That Becca was about to tell me we'd been played.

She didn't speak. Just stepped in slow and quiet. Let the door close behind her. Then her mouth opened. Her eyes welled.

"I--I don't know."

"You don't know?" I snapped.

I felt stupid standing there shirtless. So I grabbed my shirt. Pulled it on. Just to control something.

Then I pushed past her out into the hallway. I took the first left to the private bathroom. I flung the door open with my palm.

The shower curtain had been ripped down. The window above the tub stood wide open. Mud was everywhere. The prints from shoes, gloves, and a trail of little finger marks.

Small. Female. Lexi.

My jaw tightened. Nostrils flared. I turned.

Becca was right there. A full foot shorter. Thick thighs. Compact frame. Big head with retro glasses -- like a mom with a minivan.

My pulse spiked. Certain Becca was in on it.

"Where is she?" I said.

But if she was acting, she was good. One tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away, then looked toward the male dorm.

"I think I know who took her," she said.

I pushed past her. Went down the stairs. To the other end of the hostel. To where Lex and I shared a private room.

That's where she'd be.

Let her be mad that I spooned with Becca. Let her be furious. Blame me. Regret the threesome. Regret the Europe trip.

But let her be there.

I threw open the door. Nothing but clothes and our backpacks. I turned and Becca was there.

Her eyes locked on mine. Sharp and cold. Ice blue. Pupils like black pins.

"I'm calling the police," I said.

"You do that, and she's as good as dead. Or worse."

I said nothing. Just stared her down.

"Come on," she said.

She took my hand and walked back toward her room. Up the stairs. My biology still made me watch her ass.

Even with my gut twisted and my mind spinning. Even though I hated her right then, blaming her for all of it, I looked.

But it wasn't sexy. It was just an ass. The same ass I'd gripped last night.

With Alexis.

I didn't follow Becca in right away.

I turned into the bathroom, shut the door, and dry-heaved into the toilet. Nothing came up I didn't even feel sick.

Just stress. Lex was missing. We were in Germany. She was naked.

The thought hit hard. I bolted back to Becca's room.

She'd already thought of it. Becca sat at the desk, holding two phones. I snatched one from her hand.

"Give me that," I snapped.

"Hey, I was--"

"Stealing her data? Erasing her identity?"

"What?" Her face scrunched.

Confused or acting. Hard to tell.

"Tell me everything," I said. "Why do you have a gun? Who took Lexi?"

I stared at her. Tried unlocking Lexi's phone with one hand. No idea what I was looking for. No idea what I'd do if I found it.

"What's your plan there, Andrew?" Becca asked. Voice calm and flat. "You can't text someone who doesn't have their phone."

"She's missing." My jaw tightened. I looked at the door. Then back at her. "I'm calling the police."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Of course you don't."

"Andrew, this isn't a con." She got up and stepped closer. "Whatever you think is happening... they were trying to take me."

"Who?" I shouted.

She moved toward the closet.

I stepped back.

Fight or flight hit like a switch. She reached inside. I braced.

But instead of a gun, she pulled out a badge. Shiny metal. The kind you see in movies.

She tossed it to me.

Special Agent. An eagle in the middle. Around it: Central Intelligence Agency. At the bottom: Special Operations Division.

Below that, an ID card. Her face. Name: Rebecca Smith.

"You're CIA?" I asked.

My gut unclenched, but my brain kept racing. She took the badge from me and tucked it away. Grabbed a pair of jeans.

"Wait," I said.

Watching her ass squeeze into denim jolted me back.

"Wouldn't a CIA agent in Europe be, I don't know... covert? Not flashing a badge like a cop?"

She shot me a look. Mild annoyance.

"And how the hell would I even know what a real CIA badge looks like?"

I stood there, hands on hips. Solid argument, I thought.

Becca brushed past and reached for the door.

"Just stay here. I'll go get her."

She paused. Looked back. Her stare softened.

"This is my fault," she said. "I'm sorry."

I opened my mouth but she was already gone.

The room felt haunted. The echoes of last night still clung to the sheets. Did someone really kidnap Lexi?

Was this real?

I bolted for the door. Caught one last glimpse of Becca's blonde hair disappearing down the stairwell.

"Wait," I called.

I chased after her, nearly crashed into a guy stepping out of his room. Becca didn't break stride.

"Go back," she said as I caught up on the last few steps.

We rounded the corner and hit the hallway.

"We need to go to the U. S. Embassy or something," I said.

"Keep your voice down," Becca hissed.

We passed the hostel kitchen, alive with chatter. Mugs clinking and backpackers frying eggs. Swapping stories about last night's bars and today's trains.

We stepped outside. Sunlight hit hard. It was going to be a nice day -- weather-wise, at least.

Becca turned. Jabbed a finger into my chest.

"Stay," she said. "I know she's your girlfriend. But they think it was me. So I have to go... exchange myself for her."

My mouth opened.

She didn't wait. She turned and walked off.

Her hips moved with purpose. Denim gripping tight. Even full of fear and anger, that ass still cut through the noise.

Magic.

I hurried after her.

Sunday mid-morning. Kreuzberg. Streets quiet but not empty. Locals out for breakfast. A few tourists.

I kept my voice low, even though everything in me wanted to scream.

"Who's they?"

Becca didn't look at me. She walked fast but smooth. Like her legs led the charge and her upper body just followed.

Silence. Chatter of passing tourists. I almost repeated myself before she finally spoke again.

"If you come with me," she said, "they'll kill you."

"Who's they?" I asked again, sharper.

She glanced my way. Turned down a side street. I followed.

"I was tracking a Filipino smuggling ring," she said. "Guns, mostly."

We stopped at an intersection. She scanned the street like she was searching for someone.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

A German family crossed in front of us. She stepped back, smiling and nodding. Moved toward a closed shop. Pulled out her phone.

I exhaled through my nose.

"Why's a CIA agent in Germany investigating Filipino gun smugglers?"

Becca didn't look up. She slid the phone into her front pocket. Then looked at me.

The contempt was subtle, but there. So was the exhaustion. First time I noticed the bags under her eyes.

"We don't always get second chances, Andrew. Some mistakes don't let you go."

My stomach twisted, hollow. Panic clawed up my chest. I stared at her, weighing her words.

Trusting her made no goddamn sense but staring at her felt right. Call it leftover rhythm. Panic no longer crawled up my throat like a mouse trying to escape the fangs of a snake.

My eyes watered.

"If I make a call," she said slowly, "you can't say a word. Even if you hear her. Even if I get to talk to her -- which I doubt. Got it?"

I nodded.

"Say it."

"I'll be cool, Becca."

My voice was hoarse. I felt worse than before. She scanned the street again.

Mostly quiet. Sunday slowness. Berlin easing into the day.

"We need to find a café," she said.

We found one not far and grabbed a table by the front window. I went for the seat with the view, but Becca beat me to it.

Then I realized why: she didn't want her back to the door. She had a clean view of the room. Only the waitress station was behind her.

We ordered coffee. I opened my mouth to ask something, but Becca moved first. She powered off her phone and took off her glasses. From the left frame, she slid out a pin. With it, she popped the back panel off her phone.

Then she pulled out her wallet. Not the thick CIA one. Just a small leather square with a few flattened Euros and a couple cards.

From an empty card slot, she slid out a microchip. Inserted it into the phone and closed everything back up. The pin back in her glasses like it was never there.

She turned the phone on and waited. Took a sip of coffee. I started to shake.

We were just sitting there. Drinking coffee. While Lex was missing.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. I hoped they gave her clothes. Refused to picture the alternative.

That fate just beneath death. The kind that makes you wish for it. I sucked in a breath and opened my mouth to explode.

Becca cut me off.

"I flipped someone," she said. "Big player."

She studied me. Then tapped at the phone. From my angle, it looked like a flash of scrolling blue code.

"He delivered," she said. "Routes. Buyers. How they were moving ghost guns."

"Ghost guns?" I echoed.

She looked up. "3D-printed parts. No serial numbers. Impossible to trace."

I nodded. Rage cooling to curiosity.

"At least now I know what we're dealing with," I said.

She took another sip.

"I got him into Witness Protection. Stateside."

"Under FBI?"

A pause. "Yeah."

She set the cup down.

"He turned up dead. In the Philippines."

It meant nothing to me.

"Your source?"

She shook her head. "No. The FBI agent."

I blinked.

She asked for my phone, looked up a couple of news stories and showed me.

"My source died too. First week in the U. S.. Hit-and-run. Stolen car. Never found the driver."

She swiped to the next story.

"Anderson went on vacation and committed suicide. State Department backed the report."

I stared at her.

"So why Berlin?"

She hesitated. Then: "Loose ends."

"And Lexi? Who has her?"

Becca looked at the phone. No answer.

"Why not just go to the embassy?" I pressed. "Or some-- I don't know--CIA agency office. A building. Other agents. People who can help."

She gave a humorless smile.

"The 'A' in CIA stands for 'Agency,' so you don't need to say 'CIA agency.'"

"Whatever," I snapped. "Where is my girlfriend?!"

Too loud. Heads turned.

"Keep your voice down," she hissed. "We're going to get her. Once this finishes, I'll call."

"Call who?" I whispered through teeth. "Finish what?"

She stared at me. A few beats passed. Like she was trying to will me into trust.

It didn't work.

"You've got five minutes," I said. "Then I go to the cops. The embassy. And I give them your description."

Becca leaned back in the booth. Scanned the café. Looked at the phone again, then rested her eyes on me.

Sharp, blue, and assessing.

"There's a paramilitary clique inside the agency. Laundering weapons. Funding an army."

"In the Philippines?"

She shook her head.

"Probably the Middle East."

I blinked. "Okay."

We held eye contact.

"If I walk into an embassy, they'll hold me. Then I'll disappear in transit."

She paused.

"You know what that means?"

I nodded.

"Is that who took Lex?" I said. "The CIA clique?"

Becca broke the stare. Looked back at the phone. Blue light washed across her lenses.

"I traced some black-market transfers to a banker here in Berlin," she said. "He launders funds for the faction. I've been off-grid -- hostels, cash, fake IDs. If I can grab the account data, I can trade it."

"For what?"

"Safe passage. England."

"MI6?"

Becca nodded.

"I trust them more than Langley right now."

I sat with that. Finished my coffee. Wondered what the CIA would do with Lexi.

"We need to move," I started.

Becca's face changed.

The screen flickered. Then blacked out. She straightened, hunched over the phone, typing fast.

She raised it to her ear. One finger came up: Quiet.

It rang once. Twice.

She answered in a language I didn't recognize. Crisp, fast and confident.

Czech, maybe? Not German or Dutch.

Was this real?

The threesome? The kidnapping? Becca's CIA? Her Czech? Filipino smugglers? A dead FBI agent? A banker in Berlin?

It all sounded insane. But here we were. Wrong place, wrong time.

That's all this was. If Lexi and I hadn't met Becca, they would've taken her instead. We would be at breakfast right now. Tense and sexually frustrated. But safe and alive.

Now I had tears in my eyes. I didn't bother to stop them. My coffee was empty.

Becca was still speaking Czech. Her eyes scanning outside. Her voice steady.

I slid out of the booth and stepped out the front door. Becca watched me go, but stayed on the call.

I stood on the sidewalk where she could see me. I let the sun hit my face. Let Berlin keep moving. Cars and bikes and distant chatter.

The day was creeping forward, whether Lexi was in it or not. I don't know how long I stood there. I didn't even hear Becca come out.

Just felt a hand on my arm. Then her body leaned against mine. Light and compact. Her head rested on my bicep, too short for my shoulder.

She sighed.

"Lex is safe," she said softly. "I know where she is."

I looked down at her. Didn't shove her off. Didn't bolt. Not yet.

"Some arms buyers figured out who I was," she said. "I was surveilling the banker. Two days ago, I noticed someone else tailing him. Saw them again yesterday."

She pulled back slightly.

"Turns out they weren't watching him. They were watching me."

"How did you know who to call?" I asked.

"There's a major arms broker in Berlin. Runs most of the European black market. He's been waiting for me to surface."

She turned away. Shoulders stiff. Arms crossed tight.

"Fuck," she muttered.

When she looked at me again, her eyes were wet.

"This is all my fault," she said. "I never should've let you guys--"

"Hey," I said.

I wasn't angry anymore. Even the fear had thinned.

"You said she's safe."

Becca nodded. Wiped her cheek.

"I promised to authenticate a ghost gun shipment," she said. "Encrypted builds. The weapons don't fire unless you input the right code."

"You have the code?"

Another nod.

"It'll get your girlfriend back," she said. "But it'll also greenlight hundreds of black-market weapons across Europe."

I understood. From her side, sure.

"Where do we have to go?" I said.

Someone else answered.

A van turned onto the street, tires squealing, and jumped the curb.

It came straight at us.

5

I froze, pulse hammering, eyes locked on the van hurtling toward us--then felt Becca yank me back.

My feet kicked out, breezing over the van's hood as it tore past with its engine howling like a war cry. Gasps and screams inside the café. A chair toppled and a cup shattered.

Someone cried out, "Terroristen!"

"You all right?" a man asked in English, thick with Berlinerisch.

I nodded dumbly, crouched near the door, heart in my throat. People stared. One woman crossed herself. Another pointed.

I looked for Becca and saw her disappearing through the rear exit. Her hips moved smooth and decisive.

I scrambled up. A couple of patrons reached for me, trying to help. I broke free and ran.

"Wait!" someone shouted.

I burst into the alley. Becca was already jogging ahead.

"Wait!" I called.

She spun, panting, and held up a hand.

"No, Andrew. They just tried to kill me."

"You said--"

"Different they." She shook her head. "I made my location known to too many parties."

"The chip in your phone?" I said, catching up.

"It doesn't matter. You can't be here. Wait at the hostel. I'll get Lexi."

Then we heard it.

The van again. Screeching tires. Echoing off damp brick.

Becca's eyes shot past me. I turned. The same white van, barreling down the alley.

"Run," she said.

I didn't need convincing.

The alley felt endless. Sirens wailed but they felt a world away. All I heard was that engine.

We weren't going to make it.

My arm jerked sideways. Becca pulled me into a shallow brick alcove, wedged between graffiti-tagged recycling bins.

The van tore past. Missed us by inches. Tires squealed to a halt.

Becca stepped out, pistol already drawn.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Glass exploded. A wet crunch. A man screamed.

Then static silence. Only my breath and my pulse. The sirens muffled.

Becca grabbed me.

"Move," she said.

We ran.

Past the van with its windshield blown. Red streaks across white. The driver still clutching a pistol. Half his was skull gone. His eyes stared through the pavement.

The street ahead was mostly clear. A few stunned Berliners, couple dog walkers, and a cyclist. Sirens grew louder behind us.

Becca slipped her arm through mine. Just another couple on a Sunday.

We strolled -- fast, casual -- two blocks down.

She nudged open the door to an old Altbau lobby. Let it click behind us. An ambulance screamed past. Close enough to rattle the window.

I turned to her.

"What are we doing?" I whispered.

Becca pulled out that slim wallet. Slid free a black card. No markings on it, just a silver stripe across the top.

She slotted it into the security reader, then tapped her phone. A map of Berlin appeared. She pinched and scanned. Responded to prompts.

I stared. Her hand didn't shake. She never looked up.

Another firetruck screamed by. Teeth-rattling. Then the lock clicked.

Becca retrieved the card and gave me a little after-you gesture. Her blue eyes flirted just enough to pull me forward.

We stepped into a narrow lobby. She moved toward the stairs like she belonged there. I followed without a word.

I had a million questions. I was sick with worry about Lex. But I also knew if I let myself feel it, the adrenaline would dump and I'd collapse.

Becca seemed to know that. She led me upstairs, keeping me occupied with the history of the arms dealers, how she knew Lexi would be safe, how she'd get her back.

We stepped out onto the roof. A hidden garden.

"Did you know this was here?" I asked.

She answered by walking to a bench.

We sat with no real view. Just tall grey buildings boxing us in, all cracked balconies and satellite dishes. Sirens still echoed, bouncing off the concrete like ricochet.

"Who was in the van?" I asked.

"It was a risk turning on my phone. I should've done it away from you. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. You're starting to sound Canadian. Not from Arizona."

That got a huff -- half laugh, half sigh -- and a smile tugged at her lips. It was a crack. I saw it. A break in her usual control.

She looked away. Something unspoken in her eyes. Whatever she was running from, it wasn't just mission-related.

"Why not just shoot you?" I asked. "Why stage a terrorist attack?"

She shrugged.

"Showy, maybe. Meant to send a message. Or frame someone."

"Like a false-flag?" I said.

She arched her brows. I couldn't tell if it meant 'obviously' or 'don't push it.'

Becca was hard to read.

"The money trail's murky," she muttered. "Doesn't add up. Klaus Kleinheinz is cartel-connected, not jihadi."

Her voice lost focus. Like she was thinking out loud, more for herself than me.

But the thread led her back to Lexi.

"The Eastern Europeans still want a meet," she said. "If I authenticate the codes, they'll return Lex. Their guy figured it out, saw she wasn't me. Chewed out his team. For what it's worth."

"Not much," I muttered.

"She hasn't been touched." Becca turned to me, her voice steady now. "I made that clear. If they lay a hand on her -- they're dead. I promise."

"No." I shook my head. My eyes burned. "If they touch her, make them worse than dead."

Becca nodded. Her eyes looked glassy.

"Castrate them," I said.

She reached up. Palmed my cheek. Her warm fingers traced my jaw, slow and light.

I leaned in. So did she. Our lips met -- gentle at first, then warmer, deeper.

We pulled back but stayed close.

"Lex," she said.

"Yeah."

"We meet tonight. At a warehouse. She'll be there."

"I guess you want me to stay behind."

She didn't answer. Just leaned in and kissed me again. Hand on my chest.

I tried to deepen it. She pulled away.

"I need to rest," she said. "And think. About tonight."

"Okay."

I wrapped an arm around her. She leaned in, head on my chest.

We sat like that. Sirens dominating. Morning giving way to afternoon.

My arm stayed around her waist. Her breath warmed my ribs. Our chests rose and fell in sync.

If Lex were curled up on my other side, I'd be in heaven.

Instead, it was a special kind of hell.

I don't know when I dozed off. But when I woke, I felt guilty. The late afternoon sun angled low. Someone on the rooftop was tending a planter box. They didn't look at us.

Becca was still leaning against me. But her breathing had changed. She was awake.

"We should get a bite, then head over," she said.

"I'm not hungry."

And I wasn't. But I hadn't eaten all day. Lexi missing buried everything.

Still, my gut felt hollow. I knew I should eat. I just didn't want to.

"We'll force it," Becca said, standing.

Sunday early evening. The streets fuller now than that morning. We passed a kiosk with a radio playing.

German voices crackled through.

Becca paused. I didn't speak enough German, but I caught enough words to piece it together. The van attack.

Becca moved like she was on rollerblades. Stocky, athletic, and precise. I sweated behind her with a damp forehead and sticky armpits.

No deodorant. No toothbrush. I could smell myself.

I could smell her too.

Becca hadn't showered either. Last night's sweat still clung to us. Musky and warm and alive.

It should've been a turn-off.

Lexi and I once came back from a four-day camping trip desperate for bed sex. But we stank. Killed the mood. Ended up shower-fucking instead.

I assumed body odor was always a mood-killer.

Not completely with Becca.

There was a tang to her. A sour, lingering sex-smell I swear was still on my skin as well as hers. It mixed with today's sweat and peeled off in waves. Despite everything, I was getting hard.

What is wrong with me, I thought, eyes on her tight behind.

We reached the indoor farmers' market -- high ceilings, steel beams, giant fans spinning overhead. Not quite the Markthalle Neun, but close enough. The smell of food hit like a punch.

It was cooler inside but still thick with bodies. Not packed but enough space to breathe. Enough noise to disappear.

We drifted through the stalls and grabbed Leberkäse sandwiches. We found a stand-up table in a quiet corner with our backs to the wall.

Becca scanned the crowd. I tried to copy her but didn't know what to look for.

So I watched her instead.

Sharp profile. Focused eyes. Mouth tight with thought. She bit into her sandwich, chin dipped like a sniper lining up a shot.

"The right-wing nutjob," she said between bites. "Not the guy I shot. Wasn't in the van."

"You said the news--"

"The news lies."

A quick look at me. Stone-faced. Then back to the crowd.

"Don't recognize his name," she added. "Probably some rando the BND's had on a list for years."

She nodded slightly toward the flow of people.

"This level of coordination," she said. "Plus the media spin? Has to be the faction."

"The rogue CIA clique?"

She nodded. "The Continuity Research Directive."

I watched her chew.

Becca kept talking. Calm and clinical. Spinning a theory about a rogue CIA faction (officially called the CRD) framing a German right-winger for Berlin terror.

"Was anyone hurt?" I asked, cutting in.

"Hmm?"

"The van missed us. Did it hit anyone else?"

She nodded. "Twleve dead. I think there was a second van."

Then she kept going. Factions. Authorization levels. Something about presidential kill lists.

But I didn't get to ask. I felt sick to my stomach.

Becca grabbed my arm.

"Time to move. Follow my lead."

She stepped behind me.

I didn't look back. Couldn't. My neck was locked. My body moved on instinct.

We cut through a door marked MITARBEITER and entered a narrow hall. Then out double doors and into daylight again.

A man stood there.

Collared shirt, no tie. Black suit. Casual, like he belonged.

He was in an open-air lot. Framed by a blue sky and drifting clouds.

For a second, everything froze.

He turned, half-smiled, lifted his arm. A wave? A signal?

Becca moved fast.

She seemed to jump and crouch for no discernible reason. Then the man hit the pavement with a sick thud. His jacket flared open.

Becca had his gun. She dismantled it like a field surgeon. Dropped the pieces in a bin by the double doors.

The man groaned. Becca kicked him quiet. A phone dinged.

She crouched again -- head near my crotch -- so I crouched too.

She grabbed his phone. Used his finger to unlock it. Her eyes scanned fast. Her fingers scrolled and swiped.

"Anything about Lex?"

She shook her head. Pocketed the phone.

"No. These aren't his men."

I stared at her. "How many people are after you?"

Blank face.

"Lots," she said.

She grabbed my hand. Led me through the lot. The man stayed crumpled behind us. It reminded me of those travel videos -- girlfriend leading the boyfriend by the hand, scenery behind them.

Except this wasn't Lex.

This was Becca.

Stocky. Lethal. Hips wide. Ass tight.

Clocking every swing of it stabbed guilt straight through my chest.

We were halfway across the lot when two men came through the far doors. At least that's what I was told later. Becca heard them before I saw them. She shoved me off the pavement and off my feet.

There was a grassy slope beside the lot and thick with shrubs. She caught my shirt and followed fast, sliding on her ass, tugging me down deep.

"Shh," she whispered.

We sank deeper. Little branches scraped my skin. Rode up under my shirt and made raw lines across my stomach and arms.

Becca grabbed my leg. I froze.

Voices above. Male. Close.

I held my breath. Chest heaving. Tried to still it.

Becca didn't move. Her hand on my thigh tightened.

The voices passed and faded. She let go.

"Sorry," she whispered.

I didn't answer. Just swallowed dry spit laced with dirt.

Becca shifted. Pulled out the phone she'd taken. It buzzed in her hand with an incoming call. She answered but didn't speak.

A voice repeated something. The same phrase over and over. Probably the guy's name.

She hung up. Wedged the phone between her palms. Then clenched.

A quiet crunch. The casing split. She tossed the halves into the bushes and slid farther downhill.

I followed.

Eventually, we hit flat ground and could stand again. We were in a wooded patch off a city park. Beyond the trees, kids played soccer, or Fußball.

We were filthy. Faces streaked and clothes torn. All from fleeing strangers and threats I still didn't understand.

And again, that urge. Run to the embassy. Let grownups fix it.

"Come on," Becca said, heading toward the park. "It's almost time."

"Wait."

She stopped. Turned. Silent.

"Who were those people? Where's Lex?" I shook my head. "Why am I following you? Why the hell do I believe you? What if this is all just one big con?"

She stared.

I braced for a jab, some sharp line to put me in my place.

Nothing.

Just a look. Her eyes caught somewhere between contempt and tears.

"It's better if you stay here," she said, glancing around. Even up, into the trees. "They're not looking for you."

"Who's 'they'?"

"Those guys were BKA." She nodded uphill. "German FBI. They got a tip when I made myself traceable to reach the gunrunners. Authenticate--"

"Yeah, yeah," I cut in, circling a finger. "So what now? You walk into a warehouse and rescue Lex while I sit here like an idiot? Hope the German feds forget I exist?"

"They're not after you--"

"Doesn't feel like that."

She shrugged.

"Their texts didn't mention you. And I killed the guy in the van."

"But the guy you dropped in the lot? He saw me."

Becca looked away.

The light was changing. Not just in the trees. The whole day was fading.

"Not enough to ID you," she finally answered. "You and Lexi can still get out."

Hearing her name broke something in me.

I closed my eyes. Saw her on a plane. Laughing. Safe.

A tear slid down my cheek.

When I opened them, Becca's eyes were glassy too.

"I'm going to get her back, Andrew."

"Why?" I asked. "Why do you care? They grabbed her instead of you. Sounds like a win to me. You could disappear again. Buy time."

Becca paused. Her voice was low and distant.

"I'm not losing anyone else," she said.

I didn't answer.

For a beat, the only sound was kids shouting in German.

"I'm coming," I said.

She opened her mouth, brows pinched like she might argue.

Then closed it.

"Okay," she said. "But we need a plan."

The warehouse sat on the east side of town -- the rougher side.

Old communist blocks. Brutalist shells still casting long shadows from a darker era.

"The difference now," Becca had said, "is who holds the leash."

The mob. Or one of them, anyway.

She wasn't an expert on Berlin's underworld. Didn't trust the contact who was.

But she knew the man we were meeting. His name was Vladan Křížek. Becca called him Cross.

"His last name means 'little cross,'" she said. "Because he crosses people off the map."

"A little corny," I said.

She didn't smile.

"He makes people disappear. No trace. Not even a social media presence."

Becca sat. I crouched beside her, tucked between pallets and stacked sheet metal.

Sunset faded fast. Thick pink clouds boiled above, smothering the last orange light. A gust rolled through. Cold. Smelled like rain.

She'd picked the spot. Gave her a clean sightline to the warehouse. I didn't love it, but it made sense.

Men came and went. Not many, but enough to prove the place wasn't as abandoned as it looked. My ankles burned from crouching, but I was too stiff to sit.

Becca passed her phone. Showed me Cross's profile.

Long hair. Full beard. Big man but not fat, just thick. Gym-bodied, but soft in the face. Like someone who enjoyed a lot of wine, steak, and cigars.

I swiped to the bio and began reading. A moment later, Becca snatched the phone back. I resisted for half a second but her grip was trained. Agent reflex.

"He's a human trafficker," I said.

She didn't respond. Just stared at me. Lips pressed tight.

"He's not selling Lexi," she said.

She started running through the plan again. I barely listened. I already knew it.

She'd be doing most of the work anyway. Something else tugged at me. A weight in my chest.

Human trafficker.

It hit harder than "arms dealer." Like some invisible line I hadn't known I'd crossed.

Of course a guy like him would deal in both. Guns and people probably shipped in the same containers.

Still. The word sat there. Heavy.

Becca talked to herself. Rehearsing. Eyes on the door.

I watched her.

Something was off. A ripple in the calm. Something in the plan that didn't sit right.

"Ready?" she asked. Her eyes reflected the glow of the city sky.

My mouth was dry.

"Nerves," she said, smiling gently. "It's okay. You can stay here. I've got a backup plan."

I stared at her. Tried to speak. Nothing came out.

"Andrew?"

She sighed. Looked toward the warehouse. Then back at me. Her shoulders softened.

"It's okay," she said again.

Took my face in her hands. Smiled soft, almost maternal.

"You're not trained for this. Dumb of me to rope you in. But hey, it worked. You got through the day thinking you were helping Lexi. And you are."

Her blue eyes locked on mine.

"You helped me. Now I'm going to help her, okay? As soon as you see her -- grab her. Don't wait. Just run. First plane home."

I nodded. Not sure if I meant it or if her hands were guiding me like an Ouija board.

"Get your stuff from the hostel," she said. "I'll transfer you and Lex some money for your trouble. That I can do."

She kissed me. Quick on the lips. Then the forehead.

Then she slipped from the hiding spot in one smooth move and headed toward the warehouse.

That I can do.

My brain snapped back online.

What the hell did she mean by that?

That she can't do this?

I stood. Pain shot up my back.

Screw the backup plan. I doubted she even had one. I was going in with her.

Becca turned at the sound behind her.

"It's my ass," I said.

The warehouse door creaked open.

One of the men we'd been watching stepped halfway out. The light behind him flared, but his body blocked most of it.

Machine gun slung over his shoulder. Thick goatee.

"Agent Rebecca Smith?" he called, accent heavy. "That must be the boyfriend."

Becca's lips tightened. Eyes like daggers.

She said nothing. Just walked.

I followed.

The henchman grinned one of those smug, punchable faces. He stepped back, holding the door.

We passed through. Becca first, me second. The door swung shut behind us.

Swallowed by the dark.

6

The henchman didn't waste time.

Before my eyes could adjust, my arms were pulled behind me. Cuffs snapped tight.

Shit.

That's when it hit me how far out of my league I was.

Becca wasn't cuffed. But two henchmen grabbed her. Disarmed her, taking her silver gun.

The warehouse stretched like a cathedral. But towering pallets -- ten feet high at least -- blocked any long view.

Between the shadows and the stacks, it felt like a maze. We were marched through, funneled by the layout. Pallets arranged to form makeshift halls and rooms.

We turned a corner and stopped. Under a single bulb, surrounded by crates and an armed guard, a man sat in a plastic chair.

Cross.

I recognized him from Becca's phone. Hair, beard and bulk. In person, he looked even bigger. Crates loomed around him, throwing jagged shadows. Movement caught my eye. A woman shoved into view from the side.

Lexi.

Hair tangled. Tired eyes. They'd put her in a white sundress. She looked pale. But no bruises or black eyes. No split lip.

And she wasn't cuffed.

Her eyes found mine and lit up. That warmth hit me like a drug. But right behind it: a stab of fear.

We were separated by a human-trafficking arms dealer in a lawn chair.

"Becky," Cross said, grinning like a game show host.

His gaze locked on Becca. Then slid to me.

He barked something in Czech.

The guard behind me shoved me forward then yanked me sideways. Lex's guard shoved her too. We landed near each other.

Lex lunged. Her face broke into tears and laughter at once. She clung to me. Kissed my face. Said nothing -- but everything -- in how her fingers gripped my neck.

I tried to hug her. But the cuffs dug in.

"Ah, look at that," Cross said. "Lovers reunited."

Then his gaze swung back to Becca.

"Sell 'em together or separate," she said flatly. "I don't care. I want safe passage to the UK. Tonight."

My gut dropped.

Lex shook. Sobbing, silent, into my neck.

Cross stood.

"Well," he said, "let's examine the merchandise. See if he's worth another breath."

He held out his hand.

A henchman placed a knife in it.

Cross studied the blade. Then looked at me. He got up slow. The knife loose in his grip, swinging like a pendulum.

Lex stepped in front of me.

"Don't," she cried.

The guard grabbed her. Shoved her back I backed into a crate.

Becca didn't move. Her face unreadable. Two men flanked her. Another held Lex.

Cross stopped in front of me. Lifted the knife.

No escape.

His face was calm. His smile, empty.

"We already checked out your girl," he said, eyes glancing not to Lex but the guard that held her.

Cross's breath reeked like tobacco and coffee.

"Don't worry," he said. "I won't be as thorough."

The knife came down fast. I flinched. Closed my eyes and braced. But there was no pain. Just air on my chest and a tearing sound.

Then his hands. I opened my eyes. Cross's thumb, the size of a fist, pressed into my stomach.

"Hmmm."

He spun me. Used the knife to slice open my pants.

Shit.

Pants and underwear split down the middle. He grabbed a buttock but didn't linger. Spun me again.

With the knife, he lifted the head of my dick. Studied it.

"Hmmm," he hummed again.

He turned to Becca. The knife disappeared. My dick dropped, cold and heavy.

The guard let Lexi go. She flew to me. Wrapped around me. Pressed the torn fabric to my front. Kissed my neck and trembled.

I swallowed. Scanned the guards. And waited.

"Okay, here's the deal, Becky."

"Don't call--" Becca snapped.

Then caught herself.

Cross grinned.

"You authenticate the guns," Cross said. "Get 'em working. I let you go. I'll even tell my contacts you fled the city. Maybe there was a shootout. No body, but we're confident you're dead. That buys you time. And I know you need time, Becky."

Becca studied him. Then nodded at us. Indifference.

"And them?"

Cross spread his arms. Casual.

"I admit, grabbing her was sloppy. But now that she's here..."

"Our deal," Becca snapped.

Cross raised a hand. Calm and in control.

"We already had the girl," he sounded irritated. "The boy doesn't mean anything to me. But..."

He looked me over once. Sat back in his lawn chair.

"He's lucky it's the 21st century. My grandfather would've shot him dead at the door. Me? I've got clients who pay good money for that kind of thing. Fit. Young. A little pale. Probably an ass virgin."

"Five hundred euros and a clean UK passport," Becca said.

Cross chuckled. "As if you're in a position to negotiate."

None of the henchmen were watching us. Their eyes stayed on the Becca--Cross exchange or drifted, bored, to the floor.

I leaned toward Lexi and whispered: "There's a butt plug in my ass. You need to pull it out without anyone noticing."

She blinked. Stared like I'd asked her to host a podcast about her childhood trauma.

I held her gaze. Willed her to believe me. The next part of the plan was tossing the plug to Becca but now I wasn't so sure.

"A knife," I mouthed.

Lex's eyes softened. She nodded. Scanned the room.

The guards looked checked out. Cross and Becca still haggled over our price.

Bitch, I thought. This was not the plan.

Lexi still held my shredded clothes over my crotch. I shifted my stance slightly. A guard glanced but lost interest. I felt her hand on my ass. Calm and slow like she was comforting me. Her fingers searched.

She found the plug. Not in deep. If Cross had really checked me, he'd have seen it.

One hand stayed shielding. The other worked the toy. It slid out smoother than when Becca had shoved it in.

I needed to tell Lexi that the plug was hollow and inside was a tiny pocketknife. But I couldn't risk whispering when Cross was gesturing at us.

"I'm not authenticating anything," Becca said. "Not until I get safe passage."

"You're not in a position to negotiate," Cross snapped.

He stood and barked something in Czech. The closest guard moved toward Lex.

No.

Just one more second and--

It happened fast and brutal. Lex drove the little blade into the guard's eye.

He screamed. Blood sprayed.

Becca didn't hesitate.

She elbowed the man behind her, snatched his gun, and shot the others, including the one screaming.

Cross vanished in the chaos.

"Go," Becca shouted, tossing Lex a key from the third dead henchman.

"How do we get out?" I asked, wrists still bound. Mind still reeling.

Lex unlocked the cuffs. Then she screamed. Two more guards had rushed in. One fired and split wood behind us. Becca shot them both.

Her eyes found mine. And for a second, the steel cracked. Something raw there. Almost pleading.

"Stay low and hide. I'll find you," she disappeared into the dark.

I grabbed a gun off one of the dead. Lexi found the knife Cross examined me with. We ran, hiding behind a gap in the pallets, leaving my torn clothes behind.

Gunshots cracked and shouts echoed. When we heard feet thunder, we sprinted in the other direction. Every turn, more crates. Shadows of men. Then, gun shots. Screams.

None of them sounded like Becca.

We burst into an open area -- no more pallets. Just rows of parked cars under flickering fluorescents.

A black-market lot.

Moonlight gleamed through a skylight and a half-open metal door at the far end. We started toward it when some henchmen rushed in from the side.

"Down," I whispered, pulling Lex to the floor.

My knees scraped against concrete. My body screamed for clothing.

"We have to make it to the door."

Lex nodded. She was pale and shaking. I grabbed her face and kissed her hard.

She kissed back. Boots scraped nearby. We broke apart.

"Let's go," I whispered.

It was a game of cat and mouse. I counted four of them. We crept between rows of cars.

I looked down at my naked body, holding a gun I wasn't going to use. The henchmen knew we'd come this way. Probably the only other exit.

They were calling Lexi by name.

We stayed low. Moved slow. Checked under bumpers for shadows. Every step forward felt like a step straight into them.

They were closing in on the exit.

My mind spun. I'd thought about buying a ring. About proposing. Now I saw her getting raped. Those bastards keeping me alive long enough just to make me watch.

Getting Lexi out of this warehouse was more than survival, it was about painting the canvas of life.

We kept low. One man was close, two cars away.

"Lexi," he called. Thick accent. "Cross is dead. You're free to go."

"After we get ours," another voice added nearby.

They laughed.

Lexi shuddered. I hadn't even known a second man was that close. We were trapped.

This was bad.

I clenched the gun. Flicked the safety off. Closed my eyes and felt a hand on my wrist.

"Don't," Lexi whispered.

The closest one moved again. We shuffled in step, low.

He stopped.

We froze trapped beneath the belly of a Jeep.

Then he crouched. Looked under. We saw him. He saw us.

Blue eyes. Cold. Emptier than Becca's. His grin spread -- surprised, almost delighted.

Five long seconds. That's all it took.

He shouldn't have hesitated.

Crack-pop. Crack-pop. Crack-pop.

Three shots echoing across the warehouse. He straightened into a final crack-pop and then dropped. Blood spilled from his skull. His eyes stayed open.

Blue and permanently empty.

Lex sucked in air like she was going to scream. I slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Andrew? Lexi?" Becca's voice.

We shuffled and peeked up. I half-expected Cross behind her with a gun. It was just Becca.

Short. Sporty. Stocky. Silver gun raised.

I stood. She saw me. Her eyes softened.

Her grip on the pistol faltered for a second. She caught herself, but I saw it. Lexi stood next, still pressed against me.

Smoke curled behind Becca. There was another body close by. A clean shot to the chest still steaming.

Becca approached. Gun down but ready. She looked like us. Scraped, dirty and exhausted. Her cheek was red from a bullet graze or a knife fight she'd evidently won.

"I think that's all of them," she said. "Including Cross." She glanced around. Crooked smile. "Fuckin' amateurs."

Then her smile vanished. She whispered. Entirely to herself: "No collateral damage this time."

Lex shivered against me.

"We should go," Becca said. "Gunfire in Wedding still gets a response."

Sirens wailed somewhere beyond the lot. Fast and rising.

My gut churned, mind spinning at her words. Then anger surged up.

"You were gonna sell us," I snapped. The words hit before I could stop them.

"I was never going to let that happen," Becca said. Her voice was calm but low. "I needed your reaction to be real. The pocketknife was to pick the locks."

I stared at her. Naked, scraped, and humiliated. I wanted to stay angry.

But she didn't flinch. Her blue eyes were wet. She'd saved us. She could've bailed. But she didn't.

Sirens grew closer.

"Come on," she said, gently. "Let's get you some pants and get the hell out of here."

Then, to Lex:

"You okay?"

Lexi stared at Becca for a beat and sniffed.

She shook her head, but she didn't look away.

7

Becca got us a hotel room.

Lexi and I waited in the rideshare while she handled check-in. I was in a dead man's pants, oversized and stiff with someone else's sweat. Lexi sat beside me, silent in her wrinkled sundress, face drawn and pale.

None of us spoke from the elevator to the suite. Too tired to talk. Too dazed to ask why she'd booked the honeymoon suite.

We stripped and collapsed into a king-sized bed surrounded by mirrors. Three bodies surrendering to gravity and sleep.

We didn't wake until well after noon.

Becca took charge. Called a ride. Scanned the news. Lexi stayed quiet. Not withdrawn exactly, but not herself. I asked if she was okay. She nodded. Said she was fine.

We rode back to the hostel in silence. Becca was on her phone. Lexi and I stared out the window like shell-shocked kids on a field trip gone wrong.

Becca headed to her room upstairs. Lexi and I went to ours.

Packing hit harder than I expected.

I caught my reflection in the mirror and something cracked. I looked like me. But different.

My older brothers said travel changes you. They'd cheered me on for this trip, but teased me for bringing Lexi.

"Go solo," they said. "Meet European girls."

They warned she'd leave me for the first hot guy in Croatia. I grinned thinking about the truth.

I was changed, but not from culture or drunken clubs or youth hostels. Not even the threesome. That was just dessert on a meal I'd nearly choked on. I'd lived through life and death. Real danger. Genuine fear.

Two months ago, I was cramming for finals and refreshing LinkedIn. One job interview away from a sales gig. Now, an office sounded like paradise. I could've died in that warehouse. Worse, I could've lived through it without Lexi.

I looked at her now. Her face was stiff, closed off. Unlike her. It gutted me.

Then she started to cry. Like she felt me watching. Like my sadness passed into her skin.

I crossed the bed and wrapped my arms around her.

She pulled away gently. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not mad or anything."

"Did they touch you?" My voice came out flat.

She shook her head.

She dropped to the edge of the bed and didn't speak for a long time. Stared blankly at the wall, shoulders curled in.

She was crying quietly. I'd never seen her like this. Fragile but fierce, fighting to reclaim herself.

I hated knowing what was wrong but not knowing what to do.

So I waited. Still and silent.

"Lex?" My voice cracked the air.

She looked up. Red-rimmed eyes met mine, briefly open windows into something broken and hastily taped together.

"I just need another minute," she whispered, turning away.

I watched her carefully. She had to reset. I swallowed. Heard a click in my throat.

"They wanted to," Lex said, after what felt like thirty minutes.

Her voice was steady now. Eyes dry.

"They were going to. You know..." Her gaze met mine. "When they realized I wasn't Becca. But Cross."

Another pause.

"He didn't want that. After Becca called--I'm pretty sure it was her--they wouldn't even look at me."

She paused.

"I was there when Cross got the call. They spoke Czech, but I recognized her voice. It scared him. Whatever she said--"

"I said I'd cut his balls off," Becca's voice cut in.

We turned to the doorway.

She stood like nothing had happened. Except for the transparent bandage across her cheek. She wore tight dark jeans and a fitted black tee. The same fake blonde hair and icy blue eyes. A small backpack slung over one shoulder, comically small next to ours.

"He's seen me do it," she added. "He knew I wasn't bluffing."

Lexi and I exchanged a glance. She'd changed too. Sharper. Matured.

Becca clapped her fingers against her thighs, thumbs hooked in her pockets.

"So..." she said.

"We were here five days. Did you know about us?" Lexi asked.

Becca smirked.

"You were clearly looking for someone."

"Right," Lex said, a familiar glint of mischief spreading across her face.

"Wouldn't it be wild if we really were sent here to kill Becca? And this was all just a long con?"

We both looked at her.

Becca's relaxed pose tensed.

"Lex, you're gonna fuck up this second threesome," I blurted.

Both women raised eyebrows. But I saw Becca relax again.

"We still have the hotel room for tonight," I asked sheepishly. "Don't we?"

Becca smiled.

"Listen. I'm just a horny CIA agent who's been on the road and on the run too long. I needed a good shag and I could use another. Preferably from both of you. I like boys. I like girls. Two birds, one stone. You know?"

Lexi hesitated, eyes searching mine for reassurance. Then, like a switch flipped, she rose on her toes and leaned into my ear.

"Let's see if she'll take it up the ass."

I coughed, choking on nothing.

Becca narrowed her eyes, playful.

My cock throbbed against my zipper. I had to sit down.

We took a rideshare back to the honeymoon suite with our stuff.

By the time we hit the elevator, all three of us were on each other--lips, necks, shoulders--every inch of exposed skin fair game.

Thank God it was summer. Thank God Lex wore a tank top.

She broke the three-way kiss and stepped back, watching Becca and me make out.

We didn't notice at first. Then we did. Lex was staring. Her big brown eyes almost glassy.

"You gonna do your yoga poses, Becca?"

"Think he'll last?" she asked, nodding at me like I wasn't even there.

Lex looked me over. Then back at her.

"I have a surprise."

She didn't elaborate, just pressed her mouth to Becca's.

I don't know if they pulled me back in or if I leaned in myself. Didn't matter. My blood was already boiling.

The elevator dinged.

We stumbled out in a tangle of limbs and backpacks. Grabbing, gasping, half-drunk on each other already. Somehow we found the door. Somehow Becca got the key in. Somehow--miraculously--I ordered food, whiskey, and ice.

The second we stepped inside, Lexi and Becca pulled each other to the bed. Shirts off, bras slipping half-off, lips fused, hands bold. Neither broke the kiss.

I didn't look away. Instead I fumbled for the phone and assumed "0" meant front desk.

It did.

I ordered a bottle of Finch. Then went for ice. I don't even remember how I pulled myself away. But I made it back just as room service knocked. The guy saw me as we both approached the same door.

"Howdy," I said, high on the moment.

"Evening, sir," the guy said with a clipped German accent.

I handed him a folded tip from old familiar jeans. He nodded, professional until Lexi opened the door.

She wore nothing but black panties.

Her tits--B-cup, flushed and perky--hung naturally, one nipple hidden under her hair, the other catching the hallway light like it belonged in a painting.

Becca slipped behind her--also down to panties--and wrapped her arms around Lexi's waist. Her breasts pressed into Lexi's back, her smile lazy and satisfied.

"Oh good," Becca said. "The liquor's here."

I turned back to the guy. He wasn't looking at me anymore.

"F-food's on its w-way," he stammered, accent suddenly twice as thick.

"Danke," I said, sliding past him and grinning as I shut the door.

"You girls just made him forget English."

"He'll live," Lex giggled into Becca's neck, pulling her into another kiss.

I slumped back against the door. My heart thudded like I'd sprinted a mile. I could pretend to be cool. Pretend I was in control.

But this was gutting me.

Two flawless women. In nothing but panties. Swapping secrets with their tongues right in front of me.

And I was standing there--rock hard--doing absolutely nothing about it.

I stepped closer.

They broke the kiss just long enough to strip the supplies from my hands. Lexi took the bottle, Becca took the ice.

"Let's drink," Lex said, tearing the seal with her teeth like a pro.

Becca grabbed three glasses from the minibar. Dropped in ice. Lex poured generous. They gabbed.

I just stood there, watching. Our reflections were everywhere. Mirrors covered the walls and ceiling like the room had been designed to watch you fall apart.

But it was Lexi's breasts that held me. Their soft sway. Nipples dark and tight against flushed skin.

Becca's were smaller, lighter. Wide areolas spread across her pale chest like brushstrokes. Sensual, imperfect, and real.

My eyes drifted lower.

Becca's hips were wider. Sculpted. Perfect and firm, like it was built to be held.

Lex's ass was different. Juicier. Rounder. Something primal. The kind you grabbed with both hands and let consume your face.

They were opposites. And tonight, they were mine.

I took my glass and threw it back hard. I needed whiskey dick--fast. Only way I'd make it through this.

"Careful," Lex said, pouring herself a second. "You're staying hard for two."

The burn hit my throat. I opened my mouth, trying to breathe.

"I can't," I gasped. "I want to--God, I want to. But after the last forty hours... my nerves are shot. Lex, I'm gonna cum in like thirty seconds."

Becca laughed. Open, delighted. I was too stunned to be embarrassed.

Lexi stepped in. Took my face in her hands. Her dark eyes locked on mine, round, deep and calm.

"I have a surprise for you," she said.

"You mean..." My eyes drifted to Becca--leaning back against the dresser, sipping her drink in nothing but panties and vintage glasses. "Beyond a second threesome?"

Lex smiled. Then rose on her toes, lips brushing my ear.

"I scored some boner pills in Spain. Forgot about them last time."

She glided past me, smile mischievous, hips swaying, and disappeared into the bathroom. A second later, the shower kicked on.

Becca stayed by the dresser, one hip cocked. Swirling ice. Smirk sharp. She still wore her glasses.

"I thought the surprise might be another butt plug," she said.

"I wouldn't rule it out. European black market boner pills? Probably a suppository."

Becca laughed, head tossed back rich and open.

She dialed it back. Eyes latching to mine as she stepped forward. Slow and fluid, hips rolling like a jungle cat on the hunt.

She stopped a foot away. My cock throbbed. I didn't need pills. I was already steel.

She drained her glass and leaned in, brushing my arm as she set it down. Her breath warmed my skin. She looked up, blinking like a doe in heat.

"Do you know why I'm still wearing my glasses?" she whispered.

Then she rose on her toes and I met her halfway. Her arm curled around my back, hands gripping my neck, lips grazing my ear.

"I looked up your browser history."

From the bathroom: "You guys coming?" Lexi called, playful through the hiss of steam.

Becca pulled back, grinning. Lit from within. Her tongue skimmed her teeth.

She grabbed my cock through my pants and gave it a quick tug.

I yelped.

She laughed and vanished into the bathroom.

"It's so steamy in here!" she called out.

A knock at the door.

My gut dropped. For a split second I thought one last bad guy. Someone after Becca. Another twist. Should've bailed. Should've flown out with Lexi when I had the chance. Being around Becca is bad news.

I crept to the peephole. Room service.

I opened the door. The guy smiled but deflated slightly when he saw it was me and not one of the girls.

I took the box of pizza, tipped him again, and shut the door. He practically broke his neck trying to peek past me.

"Was that food?" Lex called from the shower.

"Yeah."

"I'm so hungry," she said, voice trailing into soft chatter and giggles behind the bathroom door.

I opened the box. Grabbed a slice. The second it hit my tongue, I realized how hungry I was.

I stood there chewing, soaking in the quiet. The warm cheese, the echo of laughter, the rising scent of steam and shampoo.

Calm before the storm.

The water shut off. The room filled with the smell of soap and something floral. Cheap hotel shampoo, but intoxicating on their skin.

Lexi and Becca reappeared in towels. Skin damp. Cheeks flushed. Lexi went to her bag. Becca grabbed a slice and cocked her hip at me.

"You gonna shower too?" She asked.

I nodded, mouth full.

"After food."

Lexi handed me two tiny purple pills.

"Take these," her brown eyes demanded.

I obeyed.

I heard them moaning through the drumbeat of water. So I jerked off in the shower. Bought time and stamina. But after I came I was still hard. Rock hard. Not the half-wilted cleanup kind ready for battle again because of a blue pill.

This was full mast. Ready for total war.

Lexi and Becca must've heard the water stop, because the second I stepped out, they pounced.

Thighs slick. Eyes wild. I reached out--maybe to grab one of them by the waist--but they pinned me to the counter.

I caught my reflection in the mirror across the way. Hands braced on the sink. Toes curling on the cold tile. My body straining helplessly.

And below me--on their knees--Lexi and Becca.

Taking turns on my cock. The mirror gave me the full show. Their asses flared as they crouched low, jockeying for position.

Becca's thunder thighs braced wide, flexed and grounded. Her glutes tensed subtly as she moved. Hair spilling down her upper back like wet rope.

Her mouth was ruthless.

Lexi focused on my balls. Tongue quick, greedy, laser-precise. My sack recoiled tight. She sucked it right back down with a wet pop.

I saw stars. The edges of my vision blurred like static. I nearly collapsed forward.

I grabbed their heads to stay upright.

"Easy there, champ," Becca teased, lips glossy. Her eyes sparkled like she'd won a bet.

Lex stroked me slow. Then faster. Her grip perfect. Confident.

"You like the view in the mirror?" she asked, glancing up without stopping.

I nodded, throat dry.

"What was that?" she said, hand moving quicker.

"Yes," I whimpered.

She grinned. Lowered her face. Started polishing the head while pumping my shaft. Her free hand fondled my balls. Her signature combo when she wanted me gone.

Becca kissed my thigh. Then slowly climbed upward--soft kisses, teasing pecks--my stomach, my chest, nipples, collar bone, tongue all over my neck.

All the while, Lexi worked me over: stroke, lick, stroke, polish, whispers threading through it.

"You like this view, huh?"

Lick.

"You like it?"

Suck.

"Such a good boy..."

Lick. Suck.

Becca's tongue circled my nipple. Then she bit hard enough to make me grunt.

In the mirror, I saw her bent over me. Ass lifted. Legs wide. Her soft curves framed like a living sculpture.

Behind her, Lex crouched low. Long dark hair split down her spine, trailing to the small of her back.

Lex's eyes locked on mine. Dark, wide, and hungry.

She polished the head again. Stroking, always stroking. Tightening her grip, moving just the way I showed her freshman year.

"Like that?"

Lick. Suck.

"Hmm?"

Lick. Suck.

"You gonna cum, baby?"

Lick. Suck.

Becca caught my lips. Her hand found mine.

I let go of the sink. One hand dropped to Lex's head, the other gripped Becca's waist. My fingers spread wide, desperate to feel everything.

My cock twitched. Tensed. Then released.

Hot, violent spurts ripped through me.

Lex let out a surprised little moan.

"Ooohhh."

It sounded genuine, like even she hadn't expected it.

Becca broke the kiss and looked down.

Lex's face was streaked with thick globs of cum. Most of it on her nose and forehead. One string crossed her cheek. She wiped it away with her fingers. Becca leaned in, took the fingers, and sucked them clean. Eyes locked on mine.

"Let's go to the bedroom," she said.

They giggled like dorm girls hiding contraband. I was still hard--worn out, drained--but those damn purple pills had me pulsing.

"Hey," Becca said, flicking my shaft with her palm.

I jerked upright like a soldier on command.

"Remember those yoga poses I showed you?"

I nodded.

"Let's go do 'em."

Becca built a setup--chairs, bed, cushions--like some CIA sex rig.

She spread her legs wide, one to each side, one on a chair, one on the bed, both elevated at just the right height. She used a second chair to support herself.

Below, Lexi sat on a pillow, mouth to Becca's clit, hands stroking up her thighs.

I slid in. I drove deep. Becca trembled. Her whole body fluttered. I slid out, then back in. Grabbed a handful of ass.

We found our tempo immediately.

It was fucking wild.

If I looked up--there I was.

Fucking Becca's tight cunt. Her back arched, ass jiggling in the mirror like something from a dream.

Focus harder and Lex was beneath her. Tongue working in tight circles, face buried.

To the right--another mirror caught her leg stretched across a pillow, toes curled. I saw my thrusts landing percent angles at full depth.

Every stroke hit home.

All the way in. All the way out.

Again. And again.

Right in front of me--another mirror.

Becca's face reflected. Head cocked back. Shoulders taut. Hips thick and trembling where I was driving in.

God, I love mirrors.

Her face twisted--pain, pleasure, and bliss. Her lips curled. Eyes fluttering between blinks.

One blink pleading. The next burning.

Then desperate.

Then pure need.

I wanted to take it all in.

Her bare back. The ripple of her ass under my thrusts. My grip bracing her thighs. The tremble in her hips.

The overhead reflection--Lex licking between her legs.

I wanted it all. But Becca had me locked. Her eyes held mine.

I couldn't look away.

I leaned forward. One hand melting over hers on the chair. The other clawed into her hip.

Our rhythm surged.

Harder.

Wetter.

Relentless.

Becca bit her lip. Snarled. Eyes wide, unblinking.

Below, Lex shifted from clit to balls. That poor, tight, overworked sack now swallowed whole. Her tongue toyed with me.

Licked. Rolled. Pushed.

My whole body lit up--spine to scalp to jaw. Like someone had jammed a live wire through my cock and flipped the breaker.

I lost the mirrors. Lost the room.

Becca's eyes became light. Time blurred. Everything suspended.

My muscles locked balls deep. Lex's mouth at the base. Becca pulsing around me.

I looked down at her shoulders. Toned. Freckled.

Freckles I hadn't noticed before.

The pressure broke.

My cock fired--deep inside her.

Waves of heat.

Her hips rolled into mine, greedy for all of it.

I held tighter--one hand on her shoulder, the other grinding into her hip--but collapsed onto her back.

She collapsed onto the chair.

I pulled out. Fell onto the bed.

To my left, another mirror. My dick was still standing. Like it didn't belong to me anymore.

"What did you give me, Lex? This isn't how Viag--"

I saw them reflected in the glass. The low hum of breath and sucking echoing. Lex and Becca were kissing.

Mouths locked and hands gliding.

Maybe it wasn't just a boner pill. Maybe I died back at the techno bar. Maybe I got hit by a tram.

Maybe this was heaven.

Lex and Becca climbed onto the bed.

Lex straddled me. She guided me in with two fingers. That familiar stretch. Never old nor dull.

The view alone could've wrecked me.

Lexi rode slow. Confident. Her hips rolling steady. Her B-cups swayed. Just the right size for my hands and mouth.

She leaned forward, offering herself. I lifted to taste and Becca's mouth found Lexi's other breast.

Then her neck. Then her lips.

They kissed like it was muscle memory. Like they'd done it a thousand times in other lives.

Lex kept her spine straight. Rode me with posture and pressure. Deep and targeted.

Every push dragged a sound from my throat.

Her stomach flexed with each bounce. Her mound rising and falling over me.

It was too much. I couldn't watch them--really watch them--without blowing again.

I looked once and caught Becca's fingers pinching Lex's dark nipple. I shut my eyes.

Hands searched for something solid. One landed on Lex's hip. The other on Becca's ankle.

It grounded me. For a second.

Then I felt it.

Something brushed my crotch.

I looked.

Becca was fingering Lex as she bounced on my cock. She ducked lower and slid under Lex's pelvis and pressed her mouth to her.

I saw her back curve. Toned. Twitching with effort. Every muscle working.

I ran my hand down the groove of her spine. Cupped her ass.

Couldn't not.

Lex started riding harder. Her rhythm frayed. Her body gave way to the overload.

She was unraveling.

Her hands scrambled--through Becca's hair, across my chest, back to herself.

Becca kept her mouth working.

I felt the heat building. Could smell it.

Wet. Slick. Friction.

My thoughts began to slide.

Lex started singing, "F-f-f-u-U-u-U-u-U-c-c-k-k."

Each drawn-out U rode the arc of her hips. Becca's tongue steered the rest.

Lex's eyes clenched shut. Her limbs spasmed. One second her fingers were in Becca's hair. The next, clawing my chest.

Everything overloaded--touch, breath, sound.

She leaned forward. Elbows on my shoulders. Fingers buried in my hair and pulling.

Her face tightened into that pain-blissed expression. Tears without crying. Moans without air.

She hummed tiny whimpers through her mouth. Shut tight between those gasping O's.

Becca stayed buried between us. Her face pressed tight in the narrow space between our stomachs.

I could feel her tongue sliding along the base of my shaft.

The jolt hit my spine.

One hand found Becca's tight little ring. I traced slow circles. Enough to tease but not enough to ask.

I couldn't see Becca's face, only the back of her head. But I felt her breath. Her hair brushing my abs. The weight of her shoulder against my thigh.

Her tongue--hot, rhythmic, surgical--kept going while Lex's body surrendered.

Lex's tits swayed above Becca's head. My one anchor in the chaos.

I fixated on them. Tried to hold them with one free hand. Tried to hold this image like it could keep me sane.

But Lexi was coming undone and taking me with her. My hand fell to her hip.

Lex bucked wildly.

Becca refused to let her go. I stuck a wet finger in her asshole. Her hands moved to Lex's hips. One slid over to find mine.

Together, we steadied her. Drove her. Helped her ride it out.

Becca's tongue moved endlessly. Hot breath where Lexi and I connected.

"Ah gawd," Lex cried, loud enough to rattle the ceiling.

Her hips went feral. Back and forth. A flood of chaos.

My own hips bucked with pure instinct. Gravity. Possession.

Then I felt it.

Warmth on my thighs. At first I thought Becca had spit or drooled.

It was Lexi. She was cumming. Her cunt soaked me, dripping with heat.

She collapsed into shudders. The rocking stopped. Becca let go of our hands. Lex went limp.

Becca pulled back. Her face glistening and grinning. Like she'd just conquered something.

She kissed Lex. Lexi kissed her back. Hard.

I was panting. Eyes glassy. Brain empty.

I looked down. Lexi's cunt still pulsed. Red and swollen and wet as hell.

"Did you cum?" Becca asked.

I looked up. Two women. All eyes. All heat.

I shook my head.

Lex leaned into Becca's ear. Whispered something.

Becca jerked back. "No way."

Lexi shrugged. Climbed off me.

"I'll go first," she said, vanishing into the other room.

We watched her go. Hips with purpose, her meaty ass chewing the air with each step.

Becca exhaled. "She wants me to try anal."

I looked at her. "Why don't you?"

She stared at the door. Then back at me.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

That grin. Those mischievous blue eyes.

"That was just a butt plug before. I'll peg you, you peg me."

I swallowed. Lex returned just in time. She caught the tension.

"What's going on?"

"You have a dildo?" Becca asked.

Lex lit up. "Of course."

"I mean here. In your luggage."

"Yes," she said. "Sometimes Andrew uses it on me. I always use it on me."

She shot me a look. Then at Becca.

"Why?"

Becca bit her lip. "Not me."

Lex blinked. "What's she saying, Andrew?"

I opened my mouth. Ready to object. But Becca already knew.

She walked to Lex. Kissed her softly. Took the lube from her hand.

Then turned to me. Hips swinging like weapons. She leaned in close and handed me the lube. Kissed me slow.

She stepped back. Held my gaze. And turned around.

Her tight little ass now inches from my face. She bent forward. Arched her back.

Spread herself open with both hands.

Her slick cunt and tight asshole stared back at me like a dare. Primal instinct took over.

I buried my face in her.

Becca yelped a half scream, half moan.

"Andrew," Lex scolded but it didn't sound entirely like disapproval.

I kept going.

Tongue deep in her warm hole. Hands gripping her thighs like handlebars.

I still held the lube, so I dropped it on the bed for a better grip. Brought a finger to her tight little star, just above where my tongue worked.

"Wait," Lexi said.

Her hands were soft but firm as she pulled me back. The only thing that could've stopped me.

She took my face. Held me by the ears.

"If anyone's going to peg you," she said, "it's going to be me."

Becca lay on her back.

I slipped between her legs. Missionary.

"Oooh," she smiled.

She was warm. Tight. Pressed against me, skin on skin.

Her small breasts to my chest. My elbows on the mattress. Her thighs wrapped around my hips.

Inside her felt endless. Her blue eyes stayed locked on mine.

Lex climbed on the bed. I felt the hard, wet plastic rub against my ass.

She leaned in. Nibbled my ear while I rocked gently inside Becca.

If I was ever going to get fucked in the ass--it might as well be by my girlfriend, while I fucked another woman.

Becca hooked her legs over my shoulders. I stayed buried in her as I spread my thighs.

Lex teased the head of the dildo around my tight little knot of skin. I could feel it flex like it couldn't decide whether to open or fight back.

Then she pushed. I figured she'd stop at the tip. She didn't.

I reached back. Tapped her.

"Oh, come on," she whispered. Kissed the back of my neck.

Then she started moving. Small, twisting strokes. Testing me.

I found her rhythm. Pumped into Becca while Lex puppeteered me from behind.

A mad, grunting marionette. Our pace quickened.

I sank deeper into Becca. Lex sank deeper into me.

"Oh god," I groaned. Jaw clenched.

The toy wasn't lifelike. But it was bigger than a finger. A lot bigger.

The dildo bent inside me--rounded a corner and then--it felt good.

Shockingly good.

I didn't know who picked up the pace, maybe Lex, maybe Becca, maybe me, I was too far gone to care.

Becca's hands were on my ass. Helping Lex. Helping break me in.

My fists were balled. Elbows shaking. I wasn't sure if I liked this.

All three of us moved in one obscene, glorious current. I hammered into Becca, Lex steering my ass like a joystick. One thrust fed the other. A filthy feedback loop.

Lex pushed deeper. I moaned. One hand gripped bed sheets. The other found and squeezed Becca's small tits.

Lexi's hand found mine and together we wrapped around Becca's throat. She twisted the dildo, pushing and pulling.

I wasn't fucking anymore--Lexi was fucking Becca through my ass.

Tension coiled through me. Waist. Spine. Soul.

Lexi was lighting me up from the inside. Becca was quivering on my dick.

My vision blurred. Breath staggered. Eyes fluttered.

I hung my head. I wasn't fucking Becca anymore. Her hips were rising to meet mine.

I was Lexi's puppet. They were in control now.

Lex twisted the dildo deeper until my eyes rolled back, showing nothing but white.

It hit.

Like every nerve in me was wired to the same detonator. But with special focus on my balls, cock, and spine.

But it was the pressure from behind that wrecked me. It felt like electricity trapped in bone.

My vision went black. My cock was tight, tingling and then--release.

A thousand hot sparks danced under my skin, crawled up my chest as my cock kicked in small, helpless thrusts.

Lex slid the dildo out and I collapsed on Becca.

Shaking.

She moved me aside and I lay flat on my back.

Wrecked. Shaking.

Both girls leaned down. Kissed me on the lips.

"Why don't you sit this round out?" Lexi said, giggling with Becca.

From where I lay, I could see everything in the ceiling mirror.

Lex on her back. Becca on top. Sixty-nining each other.

Lexi's mouth moved against Becca's cunt like she was starved. I was still hard and twitching.

Watching them through the mirror like it was a dream already slipping.

And then it became one.

Strange boner pills or not, I faded.

Not the worst thing to see before blacking out.

8

Lex and I slept in.

We woke close to noon. No sign of Becca. In the kitchenette, we found a note.

Best. Fucking. Sex. Ever.

--B

Lexi folded it and kept it.

We didn't stay in Berlin. Not even for breakfast. Caught a rideshare to the station. Went straight to the Netherlands.

That night, we checked into a hotel with security. Lex was done with hostels. I wish I could say we saw Becca again. I wanted to know how everything turned out.

But that was it. Just the note. A ghost with blue eyes and a hips-ass combo men commit genocide over.

We flew home a week early. Only spent one day in Amsterdam. Everything felt flat after Berlin. After being kidnapped. After almost being trafficked.

We'd found Becca. We'd had the threesome. I'd found out Lex was really into girls.

On the flight back, I turned to her.

"You're not gonna leave me for a girlfriend, are you?"

It'd been forty-eight hours since she pegged me while I fucked someone else. I still didn't know what that meant.

Lex put down her phone. Smiled. Big brown eyes. Soft and playful.

She pecked me on the lips.

"Only if I ever meet someone like Becca again."

Her voice had weight.

"And something tells me," she said, narrowing her eyes, "the same's true for you."

I didn't blink.

Shook my head.

"No one could replace you, Lex. But I think we could share."

She smiled. Punched me on the arm, playful.

At Thanksgiving, I proposed. The following summer, we got married. Big wedding. Beach venue. Family and friends.

After the ceremony--before dinner, while the venue buzzed with music and drunk chatter--I swear I saw her.

Not at the wedding party, but out on the beach.

A dress--blue like her eyes--clinging to her thighs in the breeze. Her hair longer. Darker. Like she'd let the roots grow out and chopped the bleach.

I got pulled away for a shot, and when I looked again, she was gone. I convinced myself it didn't happen.

Days later, when Lex and I finally got around to opening all the wedding gifts, we found it.

A small wrapped box. No name. Inside: a dildo.

And not just a dildo.

"A strap-on?" Lex said half laughing and half horrified. "Who would giv--"

She looked at me.

I met her eyes. Nodded once.

"I thought I might've seen her," I said.

"You didn't say anything?"

I shrugged. "Figured I imagined it."

Lex looked down at the toy. Then up at me. Wistful.

"Wish she'd said hi," she said softly. "I would've liked to see her."

Her eyes shimmered.

I took her face in my hands and kissed her. The kiss deepened.

We were married. In our own house. On the floor. In our underwear, surrounded by wrapping paper and boxes.

Pristine fucking time.

Lexi pulled back. Held the toy between us.

"Wanna try Becca's wedding present?" she asked.

I looked at it. Then at her.

"Do one of us get to role-play as the CIA agent?"

Lex didn't answer right away. She just smiled. Mischief.

She tilted her head. Bit her lower lip.

And began putting on the strap.