Wicked Awakening: Best Friends Cross the Line
Links for easy reading: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 1: Stormy Confessions on the Balcony
The city lights flickered like distant fireflies below Lena’s high-rise balcony, where the humid summer air hung thick with the scent of rain-soaked concrete and blooming jasmine from the neighbor’s window box. Lena, with her sun-kissed blonde waves cascading over athletic shoulders, leaned against the railing, nursing a glass of tart red wine. Her green eyes, usually sharp with boardroom confidence, now softened by disappointment, stared into the storm clouds gathering overhead.
Across from her, Sasha sprawled on a wicker chaise, her fiery red curls wild and untamed, framing a face dusted with faint freckles. Curvier than Lena, with hips that swayed like a siren’s call and full breasts straining against her thin tank top, Sasha swirled her own glass, the liquid catching the lightning flashes. They’d been best friends since college—Lena the driven marketing exec, Sasha the free-spirited artist—but tonight, after back-to-back disasters with cheating boyfriends, the air crackled with something unspoken.
“Men are fucking trash,” Sasha muttered, her voice husky from the wine and frustration. She stretched, her tank riding up to reveal a sliver of soft belly, the salty tang of her skin mixing with the ozone from the approaching thunder. “Swear to God, Lena, I’m done. That prick I dated? Caught him texting his ex mid-fuck last week.”
Lena laughed bitterly, her laugh echoing off the balcony walls. “Mine ghosted after I let him stay over. Said I was ‘too intense.’ Like, what the hell? We put out, we listen to their bullshit dreams, and still… nothing.” She paused, heart pounding as Sasha’s gaze lingered on her legs, crossed casually in cutoff shorts. A wicked thought flickered in Lena’s mind—maybe the answer was right here, in the heat between them.
Thunder rumbled closer. Sasha set her glass down, standing with a grace that made Lena’s pulse skip. “We’ve joked about it forever. Ditching dicks for… this.” Her hand gestured between them, fingers brushing Lena’s arm. The touch ignited sparks, warm and electric, chasing away the chill wind. “What if we stopped joking?”
Lena’s breath hitched, nipples tightening under her bralette as memories flooded: shared showers after gym sessions, accidental brushes in tiny apartments. “You mean… tonight?” Her voice was a whisper, drowned by the first fat raindrops splattering the floor.
Sasha’s lips curved into a wicked smile, eyes dark with intent. “Grab what you need. My hotel room downtown. No backing out.” 🔥
Chapter 2: Elevator Tension and First Touches
The elevator hummed upward in the sleek boutique hotel, mirrors reflecting their flushed faces back infinitely. Lena’s heart hammered against her ribs, the faint metallic tang of fear mixing with arousal in her mouth. Sasha pressed the button for the penthouse suite—her latest art commission perk—her body inches from Lena’s, heat radiating like a furnace.
“Nervous?” Sasha teased, her breath warm against Lena’s ear, carrying hints of cherry lip gloss and wine. She traced a finger down Lena’s spine, sending shivers that pooled low in her belly.
“Terrified,” Lena admitted, turning to face her. Their eyes locked, green on hazel, and the space between shrank. Sasha’s hand cupped Lena’s jaw, thumb brushing her lower lip. The doors dinged open, but they lingered, the air thick with musk from their quickening desire.
Inside the suite, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the storm-lashed city, rain lashing glass like frantic fingers. Sasha flicked on a single lamp, casting golden shadows over the king-sized bed draped in silk sheets that whispered promises. “Strip slow,” she murmured, voice laced with command. “I want to watch.”
Lena’s fingers trembled on her tank top hem, peeling it up to expose pert breasts, rosy nipples pebbling in the cool air. Sasha licked her lips, stepping closer, her own clothes discarded in a hasty pile—jeans pooling at ankles, revealing thick thighs glistening faintly with sweat. Naked now, Sasha’s curves gleamed: heavy breasts swaying, auburn bush framing slick pink folds already parting with need.
They collided in a hungry kiss, lips crashing, tongues dueling with salty urgency. Lena tasted wine and desperation, Sasha’s hands roaming her ass, kneading firm cheeks. “Fuck, you feel good,” Sasha groaned, grinding her wet heat against Lena’s thigh, leaving a shiny trail. Lena’s core throbbed, juices trickling down her leg.
A wicked gleam in Sasha’s eye as she pushed Lena toward the bed. “On your back, legs wide. Let me taste what I’ve craved.”
Chapter 3: Tongue’s Wicked Dance
Back to Chapter 1 | Jump to Chapter 5
Lena sank into the silk, the fabric cool and slick against her heated skin, like liquid sin. Legs splayed, she exposed her shaved mound, lips puffy and gleaming, clit swelling under Sasha’s hungry stare. The room smelled of rain and feminine arousal, sharp and intoxicating, thunder punctuating each ragged breath.
Sasha knelt between her thighs, red curls tickling inner skin as she inhaled deeply. “God, your scent… so fucking ripe.” Her breath ghosted over Lena’s folds, teasing, building the ache to a fever. Fingers parted slick petals, revealing the glistening entrance, and Lena whimpered, hips bucking instinctively.
The first lick was torture—flat tongue from asshole to clit, slow and deliberate, flavor exploding on Sasha’s tastebuds: tangy musk, like ocean salt and honey. Lena gasped, back arching, nails digging into sheets. “Sasha… please…”
“Patience, love.” Sasha’s tongue swirled circles around the throbbing nub, avoiding direct contact, dipping instead into the weeping hole, fucking in shallow thrusts. Juices coated her chin, dripping onto the bed. Lena’s world narrowed to that wicked mouth—sucking lips, probing tongue, the wet smacks echoing lewdly.
Pressure built, coiling tight in Lena’s gut. Sasha added fingers, two curling inside, stroking that spongy spot while her lips latched onto the clit, humming vibrations through it. Lena shattered, squirting in hot gushes over Sasha’s face, screams lost in thunderclaps. Waves crashed endlessly, body convulsing, toes curling into the mattress.
Sasha lapped every drop, murmuring, “Come here, you wicked thing,” pulling Lena up for a sloppy kiss. Lena tasted herself—bitter-sweet nectar—mingling with Sasha’s spit. Their breasts mashed, nipples dueling hard points, slick bodies sliding in post-orgasm glow. 💋
But Sasha wasn’t done. “Your turn to worship me.”
Chapter 4: Reciprocal Ecstasy and New Depths
Exhaustion warred with renewed hunger as Lena flipped positions, the bed creaking under their weight. Sasha reclined against pillows, legs akimbo, her full bush matted with cream, asshole winking invitingly below plump labia. The air hummed with their mingled scents—Lena’s sharp tang overlaying Sasha’s earthier perfume, like wet clay after rain.
Lena dove in ravenously, nose buried in curls, inhaling deeply. Her tongue lapped broad strokes, savoring the creamy flood, thicker and more pungent than her own. Sasha moaned low, hands fisting red hair, guiding the assault. “Deeper… fuck my hole with it.”
Lena obliged, spearing her tongue into the clenching depths, chin grinding the clit. Fingers joined, three stretching the velvet grip, knuckles brushing the puckered ring. Sasha bucked wildly, tits jiggling, sweat beading between them. “Yes! Rim me while you finger-fuck.”
Tentative at first, Lena circled the tight star, tasting musky earthiness, pushing her tongue-tip inside as fingers plunged. Sasha exploded, pussy gushing in rhythmic squirts, flooding Lena’s mouth, soaking hair and sheets. The flavor was overwhelming—salty flood, ass-tang, pure filth. Sasha’s asshole spasmed visibly, milking Lena’s probing.
They collapsed, panting, limbs entangled. Sasha’s wicked laugh bubbled up. “That was just the start. Feel this?” She reached for her bag, pulling a thick strap-on, veined and girthy, glistening with lube. Lena’s eyes widened, core clenching in anticipation.
“Bend over, ass up,” Sasha commanded, buckling it on. The harness framed her curves obscenely, dildo jutting like a promise.
Chapter 5: Strap-On Fury and Breaking Barriers
Lena complied on all fours, ass high, cheeks spread by her own hands, exposing dripping slit and fluttering rosebud. The storm raged outside, lightning illuminating Sasha’s form—goddess-like, silicone cock bobbing menacingly. Lube squirted cold over Lena’s holes, fingers working it in, one, two, three scissoring her pussy wide.
“Beg for it,” Sasha growled, slapping Lena’s ass, leaving red handprints that stung sweetly.
“Fuck me, please… fill my cunt,” Lena pleaded, voice breaking. The blunt head nudged her entrance, stretching deliciously as Sasha thrust home, bottoming out against cervix. The fullness was brutal, perfect—Sasha’s hips snapping, balls slapping clit with wet thwacks.
Pain-pleasure blurred; Lena pushed back, grinding. “Harder… wreck me.” Sasha obliged, pounding relentlessly, one hand fisting hair, yanking head back. Sweat-slick skin slapped, room reeking of sex and lube, grunts animalistic.
Sasha’s free hand teased Lena’s ass, thumb breaching the ring. “This hole next?” Lena nodded frantically, another orgasm ripping through as thumb-fucked her rear. Sasha pulled out, repositioned, silicone tip pressing her virgin pucker. Slow at first, then burying deep, prostate-mimicking ridges dragging inner walls.
Lena wailed, squirting again, clear arcs splattering the headboard. Sasha rutted savagely, her own clit grinding the harness, chasing release. “Cum with me, you wicked slut!” They peaked together, Sasha’s screams raw, body shuddering as phantom orgasms wracked her.
Chapter 6: Shower Cleansing and Eternal Vows
Steam billowed in the marble shower, hot water cascading like tropical rain, washing away evidence of debauchery. Lena leaned against tiled wall, legs jelly, as Sasha soaped her body—hands gliding over bruises, bites, tracing welts with tender reverence. The scent of lavender body wash mingled with lingering cum-musk, soothing raw nerves.
“I thought I’d lose you to this,” Sasha whispered, lathering Lena’s breasts, pinching nipples gently. Tears mixed with water on her cheeks. “Loved you forever, but men… they were safe excuses.”
Lena pulled her close, water sluicing between crushing bodies. “Me too. This—us—is real. Wicked, perfect real.” Their kiss was slow now, tongues lazy, tasting soap and salt. Fingers slipped between thighs, circling sore clits in feather-light circles, drawing soft whimpers, gentle aftershocks.
Dried and entwined under rumpled sheets, thunder fading to patter, they talked into dawn—dreams shared, fears bared. Sasha’s head on Lena’s chest, listening to heartbeat steady as vows unspoken solidified. No more swearing off; they’d sworn to each other.
The city slept, but their awakening burned eternal, a wicked flame no storm could quench. 💋🔥
