There's Not Always a Crowd

The shade of a tree offered a brief respite from the blistering sun. I was on break, catching a smoke and watching the concrete dry, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Clamping the cigarette between my lips, I fished it out and flipped it open.

It was Sam.

What're you doing later?

A smirk touched my lips. Whole lot of nothing.

My mind drifted during the pause that followed. I took a long drag, letting smoke curl from my nose in a lazy grey stream. Finally, she responded.

Got a new bag. Smoke and movies?

My smirk curled into a genuine smile.

Absolutely. See you later.

The heat became so outrageous that my boss called off work early. I ran home, showered, and changed before giving Sam a heads-up that I was on my way.

By the time I pulled into the complex where she lived with her mom, the sun was just beginning to creep down the sky, still high and bright enough to cast everything in a hard, yellow light. I spotted Sam's black sedan, but her mom's roadster was gone.

Perfect.

I strode to her front door and knocked before letting myself in. I knew it would be unlocked.

The blessedly cool air conditioning washed over me as I pushed the door shut, clicking the lock into place. The apartment smelled sweet and tangy, a familiar mix of good bud and heady incense. From deeper inside, the sound of screaming and explosions drew me in.

The den was dim, the curtains pulled shut against the afternoon. The only light came from a single lamp and the flickering television, which was filled with zombies, screaming people, and chaotic gunfire.

"Hey," Sam's voice drifted over, low and sleepy.

"Hey yourself," I replied, turning to her.

She was cross-legged in the center of the couch, a tray on her lap, breaking apart green nuggets of weed. I loved watching her work; her fingers were magic. Sam could roll a perfect joint with her eyes closed. I settled onto the couch and bumped her shoulder with mine, smiling down at her.

Her thick, black hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, spilling over her shoulders. Her pale skin looked almost ghostly in the TV's glow. She wore a loose tank top, and I couldn't help but sneak a glance down the top at the swell of her breasts, noticing how her nipples pressed against the fabric. A pair of tiny black shorts left her long, toned legs bare.

"Is that the good shit?" I asked, dragging my gaze from her body to the pile of weed.

"It's that fuck you up shit," she said, turning a wicked smile on me.

"Hell yes," I sighed, melting into the cushions.

My eyes drifted between the television and Sam's hands. She sprinkled the broken-up bud into a paper and rolled it back and forth between her fingers into a smooth cylinder. I watched her bring it to her lips, run her tongue slowly across the paper, and seal it. She caught me looking and grinned.

"Perv," she said, but her smile remained as she stuck the end of the joint between her lips. "Light me."

"Yes, ma'am." I snagged the lighter from her tray and held the flame to the tip.

She took a deep, slow drag, and the end of the joint smoldered, then flared. Leaning back into the cushions, she held her breath and offered the pungent spliff to me. I took a hit, the sweet, slightly bitter smoke burning deep in my lungs. I let my hands drop to my thighs, the joint pinched between my fingers as I held it in.

Sam exhaled with barely any smoke. She grinned, her eyes expectant.

"Show-off," I muttered, my chest growing tight. When I finally exhaled, only a faint wisp of smoke came out. "You're not the only one with skills," I grinned back, offering her the joint.

"Whatever, man." She nabbed it, took a smaller hit, and then blew out a gout of smoke that billowed through the room.

"What the fuck are you watching, anyway?" I nodded toward the TV.

"Some really dumb shit," she chuckled, taking another hit before passing it to me.

"Clearly," I said, shaking my head.

We sat for a while, smoking and zoning out, occasionally ridiculing the movie or praising its effects. Then Sam jumped as her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket, the screen casting a green glow on her face. A slow, dangerous smile spread across her lips as she typed a response and set the phone down.

"Kyra's coming over," she said, biting her lip as she looked at me.

"That's the new thing, right?" I asked. Sam snatched the joint from my fingers just before I could take a hit. I rolled my eyes.

"Don't be a dick," she said, though there was no heat in her voice. "She's sweet."

I raised my hands in a shrug. "Hey, if you're into her, good for you, man." A small frown touched my lips, but Sam just watched me quietly for a moment.

"You'll like her," she said finally.

We settled back into an amicable silence, passing the joint back and forth until it was just a gnarled roach. Sam snubbed it out in an ashtray already piled high with soft white ash. Time drifted by in a smoky haze until a soft, almost hesitant knock sounded at the door. I barely heard it over the mayhem from the TV, but Sam bolted off the couch, her bare feet padding across the hardwood.

I heard the door open and distant voices as I pulled my pipe from my pocket, packing it with the bud Sam had left on the tray.

"Oh," a familiar voice said. "He's here?"

I looked up.

"Dax is cool," Sam said, smiling at me with her arm around the newcomer.

I recognized her from parties and local shows. Kyra. Quiet, usually hovering around the perimeter. She was a study in contrast to Sam. Cute against Sam's heat. Slender and petite against Sam's curves. Her copper-colored hair was chopped just under her chin, while Sam's black hair fell to her waist. Kyra's eyes were wide and pale green, made brighter by her gold-rimmed glasses; Sam's were dark, almost black.

Despite the heat outside, Kyra wore tattered jeans and an old black hoodie that hung from her slight frame. Her skin was flushed and her cheeks were pink, a slight sheen of sweat on her brow. She must have walked.

I offered a wave, finished packing the pipe, and lit the bowl. After a deep hit, I held it out to Kyra. Sam nudged her with a smile, and Kyra stepped forward, taking the pipe and lighter. I scooted down the couch, and Kyra sat at the opposite end. Sam's eyes roamed between us before she settled next to Kyra, not quite touching but close. She rested a hand on Kyra's thigh, and I caught the small smile that formed on Kyra's lips as she lit the pipe.

"Shit," Kyra laugh-coughed, covering her mouth as she handed the pipe to Sam.

"I know, right?" Sam laughed.

I shook my head and leaned back into the cushions, turning my attention to the TV. Sam murmured something I couldn't hear to Kyra. I glanced sideways. Whatever she'd said made Kyra bite her lip and push her glasses up her nose, her cheeks a shade pinker than before.

"I'm gonna go out back and smoke," I announced, standing and disappearing through a sliding glass door hidden behind thick curtains. I didn't catch Sam's reply as I left.

It was a very Sam thing to do: invite me over, then invite her flavor of the month to join.

I flicked ash onto the concrete of the back patio, staring at the grass and the sparse clouds scudding across the sky. We weren't together. We'd never been. We'd hooked up, sure. A lot. But a long time ago we decided we were better as friends with extensive benefits. Still, and maybe I was an idiot for thinking it, but it felt implicitly understood that when it was just us... it was just us. Until she pulled something like this. Sometimes it felt like she had to remind me, and herself, that we weren't a couple. Her way of reinforcing the image that she was only into girls. It was frustrating as hell.

I sighed and took another drag, glancing over my shoulder at the sliding glass door. What were they up to? Knowing Sam, she was probably taking the opportunity to make shy little Kyra fidget, closing the distance between them, pulling Kyra's legs onto her lap, whispering something with her hand just a little further up her thigh.

I rolled my eyes at myself. I knew Sam way too well.

After grinding out my cigarette on the concrete, I stood and headed back inside.

And... called it.

As I dropped back into my spot, Sam had indeed gotten much closer to Kyra, her arm wrapped around her, pulling the smaller girl's legs across her lap.

"Welcome back," Sam said, all smiles. Kyra cast a nervous glance my way.

"How long is this atrocity?" I gestured toward the zombie apocalypse on screen.

"Fuck you, it's not that bad," Sam fired back.

"It's so bad," Kyra muttered, and Sam turned to her, face melodramatically aghast.

"See?" I pointed at Kyra. "So fucking bad."

"Fuck the both of you," Sam grumbled, pushing Kyra's legs off her lap. She marched over to the DVD player, popped the disc out, and stood with her hands on her hips, scanning the movie shelf. Maybe it was the weed, but I couldn't take my eyes off her. My gaze roamed down her back, lingering on her ass in those tight black shorts before traveling down the length of her legs. My mind wandered. I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat.

"Okay," Sam spun around, holding two DVD cases. "Suspiria or Dog Soldiers?"

"Dog Soldiers," Kyra and I said in unison.

We looked at each other. She blinked behind her glasses, but a smile crept onto her lips. I smiled back.

"Well," Sam snorted, tossing one case back on the shelf. "Guess we have a winner."

She started the movie and returned to the couch, pulling Kyra's legs back into her lap.

"You gonna roll another one or just want me to pack a bowl?" I asked, settling deeper into the cushions. It felt like a good day to get as stoned as humanly possible.

Kyra must have been feeling it already. One of her hands traced lazy circles on Sam's arm while her eyes were fixed intently on the rise and fall of Sam's chest against the thin fabric of her top. For the record, Sam's chest was always hard not to stare at.

"Pack one," Sam murmured, pushing the tray toward me. She turned back to Kyra and nuzzled into her neck, her lips brushing against the smaller girl's skin. Kyra squirmed.

I pulled my attention away and got my pipe out, packing a fresh bowl as the movie began.

We passed the pipe around, filling the den with smoke. I got lost in the film until movement from the other end of the couch caught my attention. I tried not to be obvious, but I could see Kyra squirming again, pressing tight against Sam. Sam was smiling, whispering something, her hand high on Kyra's thigh, seeking, moving. Finally, Kyra turned her head and they kissed. Soft at first, then deeper, and a gentle moan escaped Kyra's lips. I frowned and tried to force my attention back to the movie.

"Shit," I heard Kyra gasp. "Sam..."

"Shh..." Sam hushed her gently.

"Sam, he's right there," Kyra's voice was strained.

"Dax is cool," Sam said softly, then louder, "Right, Dax?"

I blinked and turned to look. Sam had an arm around Kyra, holding her tightly while her other hand had disappeared inside the top of Kyra's suddenly unbuttoned jeans. Kyra was flushed, her cheeks gone from pink to red.

I nodded slowly. "Totally cool."

Kyra met my eyes for a moment, searching for something. Whatever she found, she smiled before she and Sam were kissing again. Kyra's hand settled on Sam's neck as her hips shifted against Sam's moving hand.

I took a deep breath. Part of me was frustrated with Sam. Another part was jealous of Kyra. The frustrated, jealous parts whispered that it was time to head home. But a louder, more insistent part told me to stay planted on the couch and see what unfolded. I decided to listen to that part and turned to get a better view. My pants grew a bit tighter.

Kyra's head was tilted back, eyes closed, her mouth making quiet whimpering noises as Sam kissed and licked at her neck. Sam's other arm had snaked up inside Kyra's hoodie while her hand moved in slow circles inside her jeans. Kyra's legs spread, her hips rolling gently.

The movie became background noise.

Sam's wrist moved, and I imagined what her fingers were doing. Circling, seeking, pressing. Kyra let out a sharp moan, her head snapping up. She gave Sam a heated look, who just grinned, then she looked at me, holding my gaze. I offered a small smile. The way her hair stuck to her forehead, her mouth parted, her eyes glazed... I could see why Sam was into her. Then Kyra looked away and pressed her lips to Sam's again, whimpering.

I shifted in my seat and reached a hand down under the tray in my lap. The sight had my heart pounding and my dick uncomfortably hard against my jeans. I adjusted it, sighing at the contact.

"Yes, baby," Sam whispered, kissing a trail from Kyra's lips to her jaw and back to her neck. "Oh fuck, you're wet."

"Sam," Kyra gasped.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I mean I knew exactly what I wanted to do. One, put my hand down my pants and wrap it around my hard-on, because the sight of Sam unraveling Kyra was so hot it was painful. Or two, which I didn't dare, was to move to the other side of the couch and join them.

Sam pulled her hand out of Kyra's jeans, only to push the denim down her legs. Kyra complied, kicking her shoes off and raising her hips. I got a good view of her pale, slender legs and tight ass as Sam peeled the jeans off. My eyes fell immediately between her legs.

Her slit was smooth, pink, and very wet. I almost groaned. Sam glanced at me, still wearing that sharp, wicked grin.

"Right?" Sam laughed deep in her throat, then went back on the attack. Her hand went between Kyra's legs, pressing a finger inside and pumping it slowly. Kyra hissed, panting.

"You're wearing entirely too much, baby," Sam said.

A soft, shy laugh escaped Kyra as she unzipped her hoodie and shrugged out of it. I shivered. Suddenly Kyra was there, sprawled naked on Sam's lap. Her body was lean and firm, her belly flat and taut. Her breasts were two perky hills with small, hard nipples a shade darker than her lips. As soon as they were exposed, Sam bent her head to take one in her mouth.

Kyra gasped, tangling her fingers in Sam's hair. Her eyes were closed, her breathing short and fast. Sam's hand was relentless; I watched her slide a second finger in, her thumb working tight circles on Kyra's clit. Kyra shivered, her hips pumping against Sam's hand.

Sam laughed and pulled her mouth away from Kyra's chest, the nipple slick with spit. She looked at me, eyes glassy with heat. "I bet you're hard as a fucking rock, huh?" Her voice was a low, husky whisper.

"Yeah, no shit," I rasped.

"Do something about it." Sam's grin turned evil.

That got Kyra's attention. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"You don't mind if Dax watches and jerks off, right?" Sam asked, her lips close to Kyra's cheek.

Kyra's face went red. Her eyes flicked down to the tray in my lap. She shook her head, a small smile curling her lips. "That's cool," she whispered.

Sam's eyebrows rose, but then she was looking at me, too. She shrugged, her eyes returning to the tray in my lap as her hand kept up its work between Kyra's thighs. It was hot as hell. I wondered if Sam hadn't orchestrated this entire thing. She was devious like that.

Finally, I shrugged, set the tray on the table, and pulled my shirt off. I kicked off my shoes and socks, then undid my jeans, shoving them and my underwear down. My cock, so hard it was throbbing, sprang up against my stomach. Both their eyes went right to it. Sam licked her lips. Kyra's breathing quickened.

I wrapped a hand around my shaft and took a sharp breath. The squeeze felt incredible. Then I took a chance.

"Starting to feel like you're kind of overdressed, Sam," I said, raising an eyebrow.

Sam considered it, then nodded. She kissed Kyra's cheek, untangled herself, and stood. Keeping her back to us, she slowly pulled her tank top off, revealing pale white skin and flexing muscle. Then she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts and made a show of rolling her hips, sliding them down over the curve of her ass. She bent forward, and I bit back a groan. My eyes went immediately to her tight, wet pussy.

Sam stood and spun to face us, and this time the groan escaped. Her belly was toned, her breasts full, capped by dark, swollen nipples. "You two are fucking hot," she said.

My hand had started moving on its own. I looked over at Kyra, who had leaned back against the arm of the couch, one leg bent, the other hanging off the edge. She was spread open, her own hand between her legs, rubbing insistently as she watched Sam's show. Apparently, we had the same idea about Sam.

Sam made her way back to the couch and bit her lip, her gaze drifting down to my cock before she turned and stretched out on her belly between Kyra's legs. One hand rested on Kyra's thigh, the other cupped one of her breasts. "This is gonna feel so good, baby," I heard Sam murmur. Then her head dipped low, and Kyra's hips thrust up.

Kyra gasped, sharp and sudden, her hands flying to the back of Sam's head. "Fuck," she moaned.

"Fuck," I rasped, my own hand moving faster, smearing precum across the head of my cock.

Kyra looked at me. She was a hot mess, and I'll be damned if her glasses didn't make it hotter. She smiled, her eyes raking over my body until they stopped at my hand. Her smile became something hungry. Her attention got me even harder, making me ache. My free hand slid up my abs to rest on my chest. My eyes roamed from Kyra to Sam, appreciating the lines of her back leading down to the firm swell of her ass. The couch wasn't that big, and her feet rested on my thigh, perilously close to where my hand worked over my cock.

Kyra's back arched. "Oh fuck," she cried out. One hand went from Sam's hair to her own breast, squeezing hard. I squeezed my cock in response, my thighs and abs clenching. Hot, obscene, wet noises came from between Kyra's legs.

"Jesus," I whispered, breathing hard.

Sam looked back over her shoulder at me, her eyes dark and dangerous, before returning to her work. Her hand disappeared under her own body. Her legs parted wider, her feet sliding over my thigh, and I watched her fingers give her own clit a few slow, hard rubs before pressing two fingers deep inside herself, groaning into Kyra.

The sight almost undid me. I had to grip my cock tightly. Fire and pleasure burned through me. It didn't matter if this was all Sam's mad design. It was happening.

Kyra kept panting breathless sounds. She bit her lip. Her glasses slid down her nose. And all the while, she kept her eyes on me. On my body, my hand, my cock.

"Sam, I'm gonna... oh fuck, Sam," she stuttered, her hips moving uncontrollably. Her back arched again, lifting her off the couch as she cried out, a long, low moan.

"Fuck, fuck," I gasped, not daring to stroke my cock. The sight almost made me cum.

Sam kept up the pressure of her mouth as Kyra came. I knew exactly what that mouth was capable of. Memories shot through my mind and my cock twitched. Kyra settled back slowly, her breaths short and shallow now, fingers lazily pinching a nipple.

Sam rose up on an elbow, her hand still busy between her own legs. She looked up at Kyra, then turned to look at me. "You doing okay back there?"

I nodded slowly. Sam took me in for a moment and chuckled, her eyes dropping to my cock. "You look like you're having a hard time."

"No shit," I smirked.

Kyra looked up. "That's hot," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the same thing.

I saw Sam grin wickedly. "You want to help him out?" she asked dangerously.

Kyra looked from me to Sam, then back to me. She nodded.

Sam laughed, a low sound in her throat, and moved up to kiss Kyra. For a moment, I was forgotten as their hands roamed each other's bodies. Then Sam pulled back and nodded in my direction. Kyra took a slow, deep breath and walked to the end of the couch, kneeling between my parted legs. Her hands rested on my thighs, she bit her lip.

"You into this?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

Her eyes darted up to mine. She freed her lip and smiled. "Yeah," she said with a nod. "Definitely."

As if to prove it, she leaned in, her small hand gripping my shaft tightly above my own. She gave it a squeeze, watching my face. I sighed and moved my hands to the cushions as Kyra began slowly pumping her hand up and down my pre-slicked cock. Sam crawled over and sat beside me, her shoulder against mine, watching. She moved her hand in slow circles over her clit in time with Kyra's stroking.

"That's so fucking hot," Sam whispered into my ear.

I wasn't prepared when Kyra shifted gears and pressed her lips to the head of my shaft. I hissed as her tongue licked a wet trail from the tip to the base. She got back to the top and opened her mouth and slid my cock into it, her tongue pressing against the underside, sucking.

"Jesus fuck, Kyra," I moaned.

There was a sudden, strong urge to press her all the way down, but I kept my hands on the cushions. Next to me, Sam let out her own moan as Kyra gagged softly and then pulled back until just the tip was in her mouth. She took a deep breath and licked her lips as my cock slipped free, looking at me, then Sam.

"It's too big, I don't think I can take more," she panted, her hand gliding over my shaft again.

"I bet you can," Sam chuckled, looking at me. "Right?"

Kyra's shy smile turned wicked. She must have been up for the challenge, because she leaned in again, her mouth hot and tight. Her tongue did things that made me want to thrust my hips. She pushed forward, moaning, the vibrations sending a thrill up my spine. She made it a little more than halfway before gagging again. I was about to tell her it was alright, but Sam reached over and put a hand on the back of her head.

"You got this, baby," she murmured, pressing down.

Kyra didn't fight it. She gagged again, softer this time, and then pushed through. Unbelievable wet, whimpering noises escaped her. I saw tears at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't quit. She looked up at me, eyes bright and glazed, so fucking hot as she sank down until her lips touched her hand at the root of my shaft.

"Oh fuck, Kyra," I gasped.

"Good girl," Sam purred.

Kyra held me in the unrelenting heat of her throat until she choked softly and began to pull back, drool thick on my shaft. She made it to the tip, her tongue swirling, and then Sam pressed her back down. They built a rhythm. Kyra bobbing, Sam pressing. Kyra hollowed her cheeks and sucked as she went down, moaning as she came up.

"She looks so fucking hot with your cock in her mouth, Dax," Sam whispered, her breath hot and close. Her other hand was still busy between her legs.

I nodded. "Your mouth is amazing," I said to Kyra.

Hearing it, she redoubled her efforts, mouth moving faster, hungrier, hand twisting on the downstroke.

"Shit," I gasped and couldn't stop myself from thrusting my hips. My cock hit the back of her throat. She gagged, but it turned into a moan. The wet, sloppy noises were driving me crazy.

"That looks too good," Sam said, pushing herself off the couch to kneel beside Kyra. She kissed Kyra's shoulder, then the inside of my thigh, her tongue snaking a trail up my skin. One of her hands moved to cup my balls and I sucked in a breath. "Can I get in on that?" she asked Kyra.

Kyra pulled her mouth off my cock and nodded slowly, her lips swollen.

Sam grinned and swallowed me down her throat in one go. The groan it ripped from my chest was almost pained. She was talented. Kyra watched with wide eyes as Sam worked her mouth back and forth, gagging and sucking, one hand working my shaft and the other squeezing my balls.

"Fuck." My hand went to Sam's hair, fingers threading through it as my hips thrust, fucking up into her mouth.

Kyra was fascinated. One of her hands slid between her legs and began moving frantically. The other squeezed one of her tits, tweaking the nipple. Sam finally pulled off, breathing hard, chest heaving. I stared down at her, heart thundering. If she hadn't stopped, I would have cum right there. She knew it.

"Wanna help me?" she asked Kyra.

Kyra didn't say a word. She just moved to take the head of my cock between her lips again, sucking fiercely. Sam laughed, her hand stroking whatever wasn't in Kyra's mouth.

"Oh, just like that," I rasped. "I'm fucking close."

That spurred Kyra on. She took more of me into her mouth, lips pressing against Sam's hand. Sam moaned, her own hand now between her legs.

"Don't be greedy," Sam whimpered.

Kyra backed off with a chuckle, only for Sam to descend again. Kyra leaned forward to kiss my stomach, my hip, my thigh. The sight of them was dragging me to the edge.

"Sam, I'm gonna cum," my voice was tight.

To her credit, Sam didn't flinch. She kept swallowing my cock as it swelled and pulsed, as I shot the first thick rope of cum. She pulled back, her hand milking me, splattering cum onto my chest and stomach. I kept coming, eyes shut tight, forgetting to breathe. I felt a mouth on me again and opened my eyes. Kyra was moaning as I fired two more pulses into her mouth while Sam continued to stroke.

The orgasm tore through me, leaving me shuddering. I took long, deep breaths finally and looked down at them. Sam was smiling, devilish and immensely pleased with herself. Kyra wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and smiled at Sam, then up at me.

"That was incredible," I said between breaths.

"You're welcome." Sam kissed Kyra's cheek, then stood and bent to kiss mine. She stepped away, and in the flickering TV light, she was practically glowing. "I need a drink," she said. "You guys?"

I nodded. So did Kyra.

"Yes, please," Kyra said, standing slowly. She looked around, suddenly unsure. I patted the couch next to me and she smiled shyly, as if she hadn't just given me an outrageous blowjob, and settled beside me. Shockingly, neither of us hurried to get dressed.

"Pass me the tray," I said. Kyra handed it over. I started rolling a fresh joint, then looked at her as she tucked a leg under herself. I bumped her shoulder with mine. "Also, thanks," I added pointedly, holding up the joint.

"It was fun," Kyra grinned, clamping it between her lips and taking the lighter.

Sam returned with three glasses of water. She set them down, took a long drink from one, and sat on the other side of Kyra, who handed her the joint.

"Glad you guys get along," Sam said, her voice tight as she held the smoke in. "Or that would've been real fucking awkward."

I snorted. Kyra giggled. Sam passed the joint to me.

"Hey," Kyra said suddenly, turning to Sam. "You're the only one who didn't come."

Sam's eyes grew dark, smoldering. She smiled at us both. "Don't worry," she said slowly. "We've got the rest of the day to work on that."