Sarah and Emily had been roommates for two years. Nothing fancy—just a small apartment on the third floor with a tiny balcony overlooking the alley. Most nights were the usual: takeout containers on the coffee table, some dumb reality show droning in the background, and a bottle of cheap wine making the rounds.
Tonight Michael was over. He was Emily’s on-again-off-again hookup from the bar down the street—tall, bearded, arms covered in ink, always wearing those worn black tees that showed off the work he did at the garage. Sarah never minded him crashing their girls’ night. He was easy to talk to, made them laugh, and honestly, the way he looked at both of them sometimes got her a little wet.
They were on the balcony because the living room felt stuffy. Cigarette smoke mixed with the smell of the pizza they’d demolished earlier. Emily leaned against the railing in her black lace thong and loose tank top, no bra, nipples poking through the thin fabric from the cool night air. Sarah sat on the old patio chair in just panties and an oversized hoodie, legs tucked under her. Michael stood between them, cracking jokes about their terrible taste in wine.
“Seriously, this shit tastes like nail polish remover,” he said, taking a swig anyway.
Emily laughed, bumping her hip into his. “You’re just mad ’cause you can’t handle it.”
Sarah watched them, feeling that familiar buzz in her stomach. The wine was hitting. Emily’s red hair caught the streetlight, and when she turned, her eyes met Sarah’s with that playful glint. They’d fooled around before—just drunk kisses, hands under shirts—but never with a guy watching.
Emily stepped closer to Sarah, straddling her lap without warning. “You look bored,” she teased, grinding down once, slow.
Sarah’s breath caught. “I’m not bored.”
Michael chuckled low. “Don’t stop on my account.”
Emily leaned in, kissing Sarah hard. Tongues messy, wine-sour. Sarah’s hands slid up under the tank, cupping Emily’s tits, thumbs brushing hard nipples. Emily moaned into her mouth.
“Fuck, you two,” Michael muttered, stepping behind Emily. He tugged her thong aside, fingers sliding along her slit. She was already soaked. “She’s dripping.”
Sarah broke the kiss, looking up at Emily’s flushed face. “Let me taste her.”
Emily grinned, wicked. She climbed off Sarah and sat on the wide railing, legs spread. The drop to the alley was only three stories—anyone could look up if they wanted. That risk made Sarah’s pussy throb.
Sarah dropped to her knees on the rough concrete. Emily’s pussy was pink, shaved smooth except for a little landing strip, lips swollen and glistening. Sarah leaned in, inhaling her scent—musky, sweet from the body wash she always used.
She licked slow at first, flat tongue from bottom to clit. Emily hissed, grabbing Sarah’s hair. “Right there, fuck.”
Michael watched, palming his cock through his jeans. “Goddamn.”
Sarah sucked Emily’s clit, flicking her tongue fast. Emily’s hips bucked, thighs trembling. “Don’t stop—shit—”
Michael unzipped, pulling out his thick cock. Bearded face smirking as he stroked. Emily reached for him, wrapping her hand around the shaft, jerking sloppy while Sarah ate her out.
Sarah glanced up, watching Emily suck Michael. Drool ran down her chin, mixing with precum. Emily gagged a little when he pushed deeper, but kept going, hollowing her cheeks.
Sarah added fingers—two, curling inside Emily’s tight cunt. Emily cried out around Michael’s dick. “I’m gonna come—fuck—”
She did, hard. Pussy clenching on Sarah’s fingers, juices coating her chin. Emily shook, moaning loud enough someone might hear.
Michael pulled out of her mouth. “My turn.”
He helped Sarah up, spinning her around. Bent her over the railing next to Emily. Yanked her panties down. Sarah’s ass out, pussy exposed to the night air.
He rubbed his cockhead against her slit, teasing. “You want it?”
“Yes—fuck me,” Sarah begged.
He slammed in. Deep, stretching her. She gasped, gripping the railing. Michael fucked hard, skin slapping loud. Emily watched, fingers rubbing her own clit.
“Switch,” Emily said suddenly.
Michael pulled out, cock slick. Emily bent over next. He grabbed her hips, thrusting in. Emily yelped, then moaned. Sarah knelt again, this time licking where they joined—tongue on Emily’s clit while Michael’s balls slapped against her.
Emily came again, squirting a little on Sarah’s face. “Holy shit—”
Michael groaned. “Gonna blow.”
He pulled out, stroking fast. Both girls dropped to their knees. Sarah and Emily mouths open, tongues out. He shot thick ropes—first on Emily’s tongue, then Sarah’s cheek, dripping down.
They kissed messy, sharing his cum, laughing through it.
After, they collapsed back inside. Pants yanked up quick. Emily wiped her face with her tank. “Pizza’s cold now.”
Sarah snorted. “Worth it.”
Michael zipped up, grinning. “Next time, maybe inside. Less chance of the neighbors calling the cops.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”
They grabbed fresh beers from the fridge, TV still playing some late-night infomercial. Just another night. But the taste of Emily lingered on Sarah’s lips, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

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