Lush Life

Early September 2018, Los Angeles, California

I woke up with Ana in my arms, her soft breathing and shuffling stirring me out of my sleep. She wore one of my old white tees, stretched and sleep-wrinkled, with thin boxer shorts riding up her thigh. We needed to sleep bad. So bad that we didn't bang each other to sleep the night before. My arm was under her neck and going numb, but I didn't move. I just watched the sun creep past the curtains, its warm glow stretching across her smooth legs.

"Hey," I mumbled, my voice groggy.

"Morning papi... still here..." She mumbled, nuzzling her face into my neck.

"Always." I said, kissing the top of her hair. We lay there a little while longer, just breathing and holding each other. She pulled her leg higher, slipping it over my hip now. Her shorts rode even further up, the soft cotton catching against the line of my boxers. I felt her exhale against my chest, a little heavier this time.

Then a sharp ding from my phone vibrated against the nightstand. My screen lit up. Ana stirred, her eyes still closed. "Did you forget to close the gate again?" She mumbled.

I reached for it, already knowing who was there.

It read: GUEST ENTRY - CODE ACCEPTED - FRONT DRIVE.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I swallowed hard, trying and falling to block that familiar lump that always forms when you know you're screwed. Ana propped herself up on one elbow, cutely rubbing sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You gonna check it?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice tighter than it needed to be.

"I'm coming too," she muttered, already pulling the covers off. I didn't argue, not because I didn't want to, but because she had that tone. The one that told me her mind was made up. Ana swung her legs off the bed with effortless grace, even while groggy. I sat there frozen for a second, like staring at the door might make it disappear. I stood up and wiped my clammy hands over my boxers.

Ana didn't notice, she was already brushing her hair back and making her way out of the bedroom like this was just another Monday. But for me, every step down the stairs felt like I was walking deeper into a confession I hadn't rehearsed.

Because Anya was here. Ana was coming with me. There was no undoing of any of it.

Ana opened the door. I stood just behind her, barely breathing. There she was.

Anya.

She had on minimal makeup with her platinum blonde down and loose at her pale, slim shoulders. She wore sundress that matched her skin tone, light and fluttering slightly in the early morning breeze. She had her hands clasped in front of her like she was at a church altar, not standing on the steps of the woman who hated her for years.

Ana's breath hitched so loud I heard it. A quick, involuntary choke of air.

Anya offered a polite smile like we were neighbors. "Hi."

Ana didn't move. Her shoulders were square, but I could feel her stiffen. Her tone dropped, low and deeper than anything I'd heard from her before.

"Ladrona sucia." Ana spat.

Anya blinked once but didn't flinch.

"What the *fuck* are you doing here?" Ana barked.

"I'm here to make peace," she said quietly, "and to tell the truth."

Ana turned toward me like I'd just set the house on fire. Her eyes were begging. Begging me to say something with finality. Begging me to shut the door and send her away. But it wasn't that simple.

"It's gotta happen," I said, stumbling over the words. "Some kind of... truce."

The word barely made it out. I hated how thin it sounded, how much I meant it and still couldn't make it sound right. Ana didn't speak at first. She just stared at me with her jaw tight and her fingers flexing like she wanted to slap someone but wasn't sure who. Then she took a deep breath through clenched teeth.

"Fine."

Ana paused.

"She can come in."

Anya nodded politely. No smugness or smirk, she just stepped past the threshold and into the house she'd nearly torn apart. The door clicked shut behind her like a countdown. We made it to the dual couches. Anya sat, her hands folded and her posture small. Ana and I stayed standing.

"I saw the texts." Ana broke the silence.

Anya just nodded. Ana's voice stayed calm in a way only someone trying not to scream can manage.

"I didn't say anything at first. I figured... maybe you needed time. That's why I wanted you to meet Camila. But then one night you told me you were at an investors meeting."

Then Ana's eyes turned to me. "So tell me, Jason. Was there really an investor's meeting?"

My throat went dry.

Anya jumped in, saving me with her quiet voice. "That was me. Well, that was Taylor Swift's house. When he left for New York last year? Taylor. When he left in June? That was me and Taylor in Wimbledon. That night. Taylor had a dinner party."

Ana blinked slowly then looked back at me. "We had no secrets. We weren't supposed to have secrets."

"It wasn't supposed to be this complicated." I said.

"That's not an answer." Ana said.

"I figured Taylor would be a one-off. She's always working, touring, and always busy. I didn't think there'd be time for anything real. I didn't expect to travel across the world behind your back. It just happened."

Ana didn't blink, but something changed behind her eyes.

"And Anya?"

I paused. For what felt like forever I couldn't find any words to say. Nothing that would make sense.

"I don't know," I finally said. "I don't know why I lied. You hated her. I knew that. I didn't want to start a fire."

"So you lit the fire in secret instead? You knew I hated her and you still went behind my back? Not just once. Not just sex. You lied. You covered it up." Ana's voice didn't rise. That's what made it even worse. Anya still just sat in silence.

"I'm sorry," Anya spoke.

"I came into this trying to get back at you. Not for the role. Not even for how much you hated me. But for being the one exception. The one woman not allowed to get involved in this whole private free-for-all sex show. And I hated that." Anya explained. Ana said nothing, but she didn't look away either.

"I wasn't trying to steal him. Not really. I just... I want the blackballing to stop. I don't care about the interviews or the industry gossip, but Ana, your agent's been trying to kill me off quietly. No studio will say it outright, but they've all heard the same whispers. The whispers that you started." Anya spoke.

Ana's face twitched. A long silence followed. Then Ana took one slow step closer to me. She didn't touch me, she didn't look at me, but she stood close enough to remind me that she could.

"You want peace." Ana said softly.

Anya nodded.

"No more agent games. No more backstabbing or late night lies." Ana said.

Anya nodded again.

A long pause. Then...

"Get over here. On your knees." Ana demanded.

Anya blinked in slight surprise, but then she slowly stood. She stepped forward then knelt at Anya's feet, her spine straight and her fingers twitching in her lap. Ana didn't look at her right away. She looked at me.

"I'm not in the mood for games," Ana said, calm but firm. "You want a truce? You don't get to hide from what you did."

Then Ana turned her gaze back to Anya, her voice dropping a little more.

"Look at him,"

Anya lifted her chin, those wide eyes meeting mine.

"Do you want him?"

"Yes..." Anya swallowed.

"Then you're going to watch how I forgive him. You're going to earn your way back." Ana said. Then Ana's hand reached for the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it up and over her head. No bra underneath, just her smooth, flushed chest and her hair falling back down her shoulders. She didn't look away from Anya for a second.

Then Ana stepped closer to me, close enough that I felt the heat from her skin.

"Strip," she said to me, her voice softer now. "Both of you. Slow."

Anya's fingers moved first, hesitant but obedient. I followed as my pulse thudded louder in my chest than in my ears. Ana stood between us, glowing and burning at the same time. When we were nude, Ana stared down at Anya.

"Take him in your mouth." Ana said sternly.

Anya looked up at me, already on her knees. She moved without question, wrapping her hands around the base of my length as she brought her puffy, pink lips to the swollen head. Her mouth was moist and hot as she opened wide, letting my trunk slide past her lips with that familiar ease she always had. But Ana wasn't watching me. She was watching her. Ana leaned down slowly, placing one palm firmly between Anya's shoulder blades.

"Not like that," Ana murmured into Anya's ear. "Don't move. Not until I say."

Anya froze briefly, her wet lips still wrapped around my thickness. I could feel the heat of her breath as her tongue paused, the tension of her throat resisting the urge to bob. Ana's fingers stayed at the small of her back like a constant reminder of who was in charge. Anya couldn't move. Her lips stayed stretched around my cock, her tongue curled beneath the weight, her lips glistening from the strain of hold still. A slow ribbon of drool slipped down the corner of her mouth and dripped onto her bare chest. Ana watched it fall like it was proof. Then she looked up at me.

"You were really going to throw away your future wife for this?" Ana asked, her voice was soft but the words landed like a slap.

"I mean look at her," Ana continued, brushing her hand lightly down my chest. "All drooling and stupid with cock. That's what you almost chose instead of me?"

I opened my mouth, guilt and confusion scraping my throat. But Ana reached up and pressed a single finger to my lips.

"Shh... You don't get to explain right now. You already did your damage."

"If we're going to fuck," Ana said slowly. "We're doing it on *my* terms."

Ana's hand slid from my lips and down into Anya's hair. Then the other followed. Ana gripped Anya's blonde in two tight fists, gathering the strands close to the scalp, yanking gently but firmly until Anya's throat straightened and her eyes widened. Ana began to rock her, not fast, but heavy and sloppy as hell. The wet 'slorp shurlp slorp' sounds grew louder with every controlled pump of Ana's strong arms, guiding Anya's bubbling mouth along my shaft like she was using her to make a point. A thick, bubbly sheen of froth built up around my dick and leaked down Anya's chin like a waterfall of white.

Ana leaned in close to Anya's ear, dropping her voice into low, filthy Spanish that she knew Anya understood.

"Tan tragona y aún sin clase. Te gusta, ¿verdad? Este sabor. Este castigo."

Anya moaned, muffled and raw with spit stringing from her lips to my base as Ana dragged her back again, forcing her to feel every inch before pushing her forward once more.

"Esta vez no vas a robar nada. Vas a abrir esa boca y agradecer que te dejemos usarla."

Ana's grip shifted. Anya's movements were achingly slow with Ana pulling her back inch by inch, letting her lips drag wetly along the full length of me. The sound was sloppy and wet, with cool stickiness clinging to me like glue. Then without warning Ana yanked her forward, hard. Anya's nose hit my pelvis, causing her throat to clench around me as she gagged with a shotgun blast of spit escaping her lips.

"Swallow. It." Ana barked.

Anya's body jolted as Ana began to rock her violently now, bordering on savagery. Blond hair flying in her fists, spit flying in every direction. I groaned hard and loud as my knees buckled slightly. I was close and Ana caught it instantly. She snapped her gaze up to me.

"Don't." Ana demanded. Her eyes burned into mine, and even through all that fire and intensity I could tell she still loved me. Maybe not in this immediate moment, but it was still there.

"Don't you dare," Ana repeated, her voice breaking slightly. "You don't finish until I say so."

Then Ana let go. Her fingers released Anya's hair and Anya nearly slumped forward from the loss of tension, panting and gasping with wet lips and sweaty skin. Ana stepped back just a few paces and sat down on the wide arm of the couch. Ana then spread her own legs slightly, her boxer shorts already damp from everything she'd held in, and let her hand slip between them.

"Go faster," Ana said to me. "Like I'm not even here." Her fingers began to move with light pressure, her posture still calm and composed as she stared at me, expecting me to do as she said. Ana wanted a show. I looked down at Anya. Her mouth was wide open, slathered and stringy spit and her cheeks flushed a deep, crimson red. Her hands gripped my thighs, and when I grabbed her hair at my own grip and tempo, she didn't resist. I started moving Anya harder and faster than Ana did. Then my hips joined the rhythm with messy pumps. I was thrusting into her mouth like she was never meant to speak again, and Ana just watched with the barest smile curving her lips.

The rhythm grew even sloppier. My grip on Anya's hair was slick with sweat and her throat moved with practiced desperation, each ardent pump creating a wet echo through the room. I couldn't even see Anya's eyes anymore, just her red cheeks and sliding lips choking down the length of me. It was ruthlessly messy. Behind her, Ana stayed still, circling her nub like she wasn't in any hurry to finish. I felt Ana's gaze burning into me even now, her pressure hotter than Anya's mouth.

Then Anya's hand moved. One palm left my thigh and slid low, her dainty fingers curling beneath and gently massaging my sack like she knew she was taking a risk. She was. A thick, low groan slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it as my hips drove forward with a sharp, uncontrollable twitch.

"Shit- Ana..." I chirped as my spine locked up. I was too late. I throbbed and burst into Anya's mouth without warning, the splooge spilling down her throat in thick, sudden pulses. I tried to pull back, I tried to bite it down. Too late. Anya didn't move. She didn't swallow. She didn't smirk. She just stayed down, her lips wrapped and her mouth full, just waiting for Ana's word. Ana didn't blink. Her hand had gone still between her thighs as her unreadable eyes fixed on me.

Ana rose from the armrest in one smooth motion. She peeled her boxer shorts down her long, silky smooth legs as she crawled forwards. Her hair hung slightly over one shoulder and her eyes never left Anya's face. When Ana knelt before her, she didn't speak. Instead she just opened her mouth wide and lowered her head.

"Feed me," Ana said. Anya blinked, stunned for half a second, then obeyed. Anya's cheeks puffed slightly as she pursed her lips and tilted her head forward. The thick, lingering mix of my climax spilled onto Ana's waiting tongue in one slow, sloppy, glistening trail as it stretched from pink to pink. I felt my stomach twist at the sight. Ana didn't swallow, she just stared with her mouth still open, the weight of the mix heavy on her tongue. Then Ana reached up with both hands, holding Anya's shoulders with tenderness.

Ana held Anya like she was no longer a rival. No longer a threat. Then Ana leaned in and spat it all back onto Anya's face. It hit her cheek, her lips, her chin, in thick, streaky ropes. Anya gasped, stunned but still. Ana sat back on her knees, licking the inside of her teeth.

"That," Ana huffed. "was for lying to me."

Anya wiped her mouth, still glistening from the mess Ana had spat back onto her skin and swallowed hard. Then she looked at us.

"I want to make things right," Anya whispered. Ana tilted her head cutely.

"Get on your stomach. Spread your legs. Wide." Ana demanded. Anya turned, lowering herself to the carpet. She arched her back and spread herself wide open. The air itself reeked of her arousal. Ana stood and turned to me, wrapping one hand around the back of my head and kissing me hard. It wasn't soft or sweet, it was hungry. Almost possessive. Her lips crushed against mine like she wanted to brand me. But beneath it there was something else. A flicker of a warning. Another reminder that she was the queen, now and always.

Then she pulled back, her eyes locked on mine as her hand slid down between us. I was still slick from before, but she didn't care, she gripped me anyway. Ana then stroked me with firm and expert strokes that only she knew would drive me crazy. Then she spat right on the shaft as her hands worked me fast in short, up and down strokes.

"Fucking crazy isn't it?" she muttered softly. "One minute I'm trying to murder her. Next minute I'm putting you inside of her."

I swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry." I said quietly but I meant it. "Ana. I'm really sorry."

Her hands slowed. Her thumb swiped the tip, stealing a thin sheen of pre-cum. She leaned in close.

"Then prove it. Give it to her as hard as you can."

I did as I was told. Anya was laid out flat on her stomach with her legs wide, her ass high, and her pussy dripping with delicious arousal. Her head was turned to the side as I gripped her waist with both hands and then pushed right in. The heat of her snatch wrapped around every inch of me as I sank to the hilt with a low groan. Anya gasped, not loud, more like a choked sound. Then I pulled back and slammed in again, rocking her entire body forward.

"F-fuck..." Anya breathed, her body already loosening for me. I kept going, my grip digging harder into her hips and dragging her back to meet each heavy, gooey thrust. Her ass rippled against my thighs. Behind me, Ana didn't speak. She just watched me pound Anya into the floor like I had something to prove. I did. Anya arched her back, her breath gruff and deep with each brutal thrust.

Then she moved. One hand reached back, but not for me. Anya had slipped two fingers into her mouth and sucked loud and sloppily. Her eyes stayed closed as she trembled beneath me... then she brought that hand lower between her cheeks. Anya didn't say a word. Her wet fingertip circled her tight little rose bud with just a faint whisper of pressure. I'd never been there. Not with her. But now Anya was inviting me.

Ana giggled behind me, her voice dripping with dominance.

"Use your finger," she whispered. "Quietly."

I swallowed hard and nodded. My pace didn't slow. I moved Anya's hand gently to the side. Then I brought my own digits to my mouth and wet them. Anya whimpered at just the sound. I slid my hand down between her slick cheeks and circled the tight ring slowly. It clenched at the touch. I didn't push in. Not yet. I just teased like Ana asked. Anya was shaking again. Ana's voice purred from behind me again, low and slow like she had a secret.

"Just dip it in. Halfway, nice and slow."

I obeyed without question. My fingertip pressed in gently, just enough to stretch Anya's tight ring.

"Haah... Auughh..." Anya gasped, a long airy moan as her body fluttered beneath me. I stopped right at the halfway point, feeling her pulse throb against my knuckle. Then Ana moved. I could hear her shifting, her warm breath hitting my side, then I saw her. She lowered herself right behind Anya until her chin rested delicately on Anya's ass, her lips hovering just above the spot I was teasing. Ana's eyes flicked up at me.

"Pull back," she said, puckering her lips into a flirty little kiss just an inch from Anya's clenching asshole. I pulled out and the second I did, Ana dove in. Her tongue made contact in one long, deliberate lick. She moaned as she did it, savoring the taste like she was licking melted sugar from a plate.

"Ohhh- ho- FUUUUCKKK!" Anya wailed as her entire body bucked against the carpet, her legs kicking like she couldn't handle it but didn't want to stop. Her fingers clawed at the floor, her screams sounding like her nerve endings had burst into flames.

Ana didn't let up, just a constant, wet lapping over and over again. Her tongue moved in lazy, swirling circles, licking at Anya's asshole like she owned it. Anya's body quaked under both of us.