Chapter 4: Climax
The club’s heavy doors swung shut behind them, muffling the bass into a distant throb. The Parisian night air, cool and damp, hit Lia’s flushed skin like a slap, a stark contrast to the lingering heat and stickiness between her thighs. Pierre’s scent still clung faintly. Sarah flagged down a cab, her movements sharp, decisive.
"Sarah, wait," Lia started, her voice breathless, but Sarah was already sliding into the back seat, pulling a tall, broad-shouldered man with slicked-back dark hair and a sharp suit jacket after her. He’d materialized beside Sarah on the dance floor moments after they left the closet, drawn like a moth to her sudden, predatory energy. Lia scrambled in after them.
"L'Oréal, Boulevard Saint-Michel," Sarah told the driver, her voice crisp. Before the car even pulled away from the curb, she’d angled her phone, snapping a selfie: her lips brushing the man’s ear, her other hand already sliding up his thigh. Look who found a friend, Jason, she typed, thumb flying. The man – Arnaud, he’d mumbled – looked pleasantly dazed, his hand settling possessively on Sarah’s knee.
Lia watched, transfixed, from the opposite seat. A coil of heat, different from the one Pierre ignited, tightened low in her belly. Jealousy? No. Arousal, sharp and undeniable, mixed with awe at Sarah’s fearless command.
Sarah laughed, a low, dirty sound. She shifted, turning fully towards Arnaud, her back partially to Lia, a deliberate stage. Her hand vanished beneath the fabric of his expensive trousers. Lia saw the sudden tension in Arnaud’s jaw, a sharp intake of breath as Sarah’s fingers found their target. The dim taxi light caught the frantic movement under the fabric. Sarah’s phone clicked again, capturing Arnaud’s head thrown back against the seat, his eyes closed, mouth slack. She angled the lens down towards the obvious bulge and her hidden hand. Feels big, huh Jason? she typed, a smirk playing on her lips. Just wait 'til it's your turn.
Arnaud grunted, a choked sound. "Fuck, Sarah..." His hips jerked upwards off the seat, thrusting helplessly into her fist.
"Almost there, handsome," Sarah purred, her wrist working faster, tighter under the fabric. Her other hand held the phone steady, zooming in. "Gonna give me that load?" Arnaud’s body locked, a strangled cry escaping him as he came, shuddering violently, his cock pulsing hot jets into Sarah’s waiting palm inside his pants. She held him there, milking him through it, the wet sounds audible in the suddenly quiet cab. Only the hum of the engine and Arnaud’s ragged gasps filled the space.
Slowly, deliberately, Sarah withdrew her glistening hand. She turned, holding it up towards Lia, illuminated by the passing streetlights. Thick, viscous strands of Arnaud’s come coated her fingers, palm, and wrist. She held Lia’s gaze, a challenge, an invitation burning in her eyes. "Get the camera, Lia," she ordered, her voice low and thick. "Get it all."
Lia fumbled for her own phone, her fingers clumsy. She raised it, the screen illuminating Sarah’s face, then panned down. Sarah, never breaking eye contact with the lens – with Jason, thousands of miles away – brought her soiled hand down. She traced a sticky line from her collarbone down between her breasts, then pushed her skirt up, revealing the dark lace triangle of her panties. She hooked a thumb into the side, pulling the fabric aside just enough to expose her wet, swollen cunt. With deliberate slowness, she pressed her thickly coated fingers against her clit, rubbing his cooling spunk into her own slick heat. She circled, pressed, her other hand pinching a nipple through her top. A low moan escaped her, raw and genuine this time, as she fucked herself with Arnaud’s seed. Lia’s thumb pressed the shutter button rapidly: click-click-click. The image burned into her retinas: Sarah’s possessive pleasure, the obscene glisten on her fingers and cunt, Arnaud slumped and spent beside her.
The cab lurched to a stop. "L'Oréal," the driver announced, his voice carefully neutral. Sarah pulled her hand away, leaving a glistening trail. She snapped her panties back into place, smoothed her skirt, and tossed a few crumpled euros onto the front seat. "Keep the change." She shoved the door open. "Coming, Lia? Or you wanna stay and clean him up?" She winked at the dazed Arnaud. "Later, handsome."
Lia scrambled out after her, the cool air hitting her sweat-slicked skin again. The taxi pulled away, leaving Arnaud inside, while Sarah strode towards the glowing hotel entrance, already tapping furiously on her phone.