Chapter 2: Leyla's Turn
Leyla flicked her lighter once, decided against another cigarette, and pocketed it. She stepped past Markus without a glance, stopping close enough to Lisa that the chlorine smell of the pool mixed with smoke and cheap vodka on her breath.
"My turn," she said. "That kiss with Jana was sweet. I don't do sweet."
"Good," Lisa said. "Neither do I."
Leyla's hand shot up and fisted in Lisa's damp hair, tilting her head back. She didn't kiss her right away. She held her there, dark eyes roaming her face, watching the flush climb Lisa's throat. Then she crushed their mouths together, hard, wet, all teeth and tongue. Lisa made a low sound against her lips and grabbed Leyla's tank top with both hands, pulling her closer instead of pushing her away. The kiss turned into a contest. Leyla walked her backward two steps, one thigh pressing between Lisa's legs, and Lisa rode it, grinding down once before breaking off, gasping.
"Okay," Lisa panted. "Okay, you don't do sweet."
"Quiet one over there," Leyla said, jerking her chin at Markus without taking her eyes off Lisa. "Tara, Jana. Keep him warm while I get to know our queen here."
Jana was on him instantly. Her fingers walked up his ribs, ticklish spots dodged with practiced care this time, and she pressed her whole body against his side, soft curves through wet cotton. "Hi," she whispered, giggling, and kissed his jaw. Tara came to his other flank, slower, but her hand slid down his stomach with deliberate patience, fingertips dipping under the waistband of his trunks, stopping, retreating, dipping again. His breath went ragged. Across the concrete, Lisa's bikini top had already joined her bikini bottoms in a wet heap; Leyla had stripped it off her with two efficient tugs while Jana and Tara peeled Markus's trunks down his thighs.
"You two are going to kill me," Markus managed.
"That's the idea," Jana said against his neck.
Leyla walked Lisa backward until her calves hit the pool edge and she sat down hard on the wet tile, legs dangling toward the water. Leyla knelt over her, pushing her shoulders down, and put her mouth to Lisa's throat, then her collarbone, then lower, sucking one stiff nipple deep while her fingers pinched the other. Lisa's back arched off the tile, a curse escaping her, German and filthy.
Then Tara's voice, quiet and clear for the first time all night.
"Look at him."
Leyla lifted her mouth from Lisa's breast and followed Tara's pointing finger. Markus stood between Jana and Tara, hard as stone, their four hands roaming him, but his eyes were locked on Lisa. On the sheen of Leyla's spit on her nipple.
"Doesn't he look hungry," Leyla said. Her smirk was back, but it had softened into something warmer. "Jana. Hold his face. Make him watch."
Jana's palm cupped his jaw, turning it square toward the pool edge. Tara's hand kept its slow torment at his hip. He could have broken free of both in a second. He didn't move.
"Tara," Leyla said. "You wanted to see if he's real. Help me find out if she is."
Tara left Markus's side. She knelt at Lisa's far hip, and Lisa looked up at her, breathing hard, hair fanned dark-gold across wet tile.
"Is this okay?" Tara asked, so quietly only Lisa heard it.
"Yes," Lisa said. "Both of you. I want it."
Leyla spread Lisa's thighs wide with both hands, cool night air on hot skin, and dove in without ceremony. Her tongue dragged a slow, flat stripe up Lisa's slit, and Lisa's whole body jolted. "Fuck." Leyla did it again, then circled her clit with the pointed tip, relentless, precise. Tara joined in a heartbeat later, her mouth closing over Lisa's nipple while her fingers slid down Lisa's stomach to hold her open for Leyla's tongue.
Markus watched it all from three meters away, Jana's hand firm on his jaw, her other fist working lazily up and down his cock. Lisa's hips were rolling off the tile now, chasing Leyla's mouth, curses tumbling out of her in a broken stream. The sounds of it filled the empty pool, wet and obscene, bouncing off the tiles.
"Look at him," Jana whispered into his ear, stroking him slow. "She's letting them do that to her. She's loving it. And you can't do anything but watch." Her giggle vibrated against his skin. "Does it feel good, my hand? While you watch your girlfriend get eaten out?"
"Yes," he ground out. His knees wanted to buckle.
Across the way, Lisa's orgasm hit like a wave breaking. She cried out, loud, no shame left in it at all, thighs clamping around Leyla's head before Leyla wrenched them back open and kept licking her through it, softer now, until Lisa shoved at her forehead, gasping, oversensitive.
Leyla sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, grinning like she'd won a prizefight. Tara kept kissing Lisa's chest, gentler, drawing the aftershocks out.
"Release him," Leyla said.
Jana let go of Markus's jaw. He didn't lunge for Lisa, didn't cross the distance. He stood there swaying slightly, Jana's hand still wrapped around him, and Lisa lifted her head from the tile to look at him, flushed and wrecked and smiling.
"Come here," she said.
He crossed to her. She pulled him down into a kiss, tasting herself on his lips, or Leyla's mouth, or both. Then she broke it and looked around at the three of them, at Leyla's damp chin, at Tara's wide eyes, at Jana's fist still slowly pumping his cock.
"Leyla," Lisa said. "Lie down."
Leyla's eyebrows went up. "Oh?"
"You made the rules a second ago. My turn." Lisa pushed her shoulder, and Leyla went down onto the tile laughing, and Lisa was already dragging her jeans and underwear down her hips. "Tara, Jana. He's been patient. One of you take care of him. The other helps me."
Jana looked at Tara, and Tara, quiet, watchful, unbuttoned nothing because there was nothing left to unbutton, and simply said, "I'll take him."
She took his hand and led him to where Leyla lay spread and smirking under Lisa's descending mouth.
"Well," Leyla said, looking up at Markus and Tara standing over her. "All three of us at once. Now the night gets interesting."
Tara pulled Markus down by the hand until he knelt between Leyla's spread thighs, his cock heavy and aching in front of him. Leyla looked up at him over Lisa's shoulder, where Lisa was already licking a slow path down her stomach.
"Go on," Leyla said. "She's directing. I'm just furniture tonight."
Lisa lifted her mouth from Leyla's hip. "In her. Slow. She's been running her mouth all night, make her feel it."
Tara guided him in with two fingers first, spreading Leyla open, her touch clinical and curious. Then she wrapped her hand around his shaft and pressed the head against Leyla's entrance. Leyla's smirk faltered as he pushed in, inch by inch, her wet heat gripping him, and a sound came out of her that had no smirk in it at all.
"Fuck," Leyla breathed. "Okay. Okay, that's..."
Markus set a slow rhythm, hands on her hips, watching her dark eyes go unfocused. Below him Lisa worked her way down, and then her mouth was on Leyla's clit while he moved inside her, and Leyla's whole body arched, heels scraping tile.
"Oh, you evil, wonderful woman," Leyla gasped at Lisa.
Jana, left alone for exactly four seconds, solved the problem by stripping off her tank top and shorts in one wriggling motion and kneeling behind Markus. Her hard nipples pressed into his back, her hand reaching around to cup his balls as he fucked Leyla. "Don't forget about me," she whispered against his shoulder blade.
Tara was above Lisa now, and the geometry settled without anyone planning it. Tara straddled Lisa's face, and Lisa pulled her down by the thighs without hesitation, tongue lapping at her, and Tara's quiet composure cracked open. She moaned, rocking her hips, her mousy hair falling across her flushed face.
"God, she's good at that," Tara managed.
The five of them moved like that, a tangle of limbs and mouths on the wet tile at the pool edge, the slapping of skin and breath echoing off the empty basins. Jana's fingers worked between Markus's cheeks and around his balls, squeezing in time with his thrusts, and Leyla clawed at the tile, thighs trembling.
"I'm close," Leyla announced, no bravado left. "Don't stop either of you."
Markus didn't. Lisa sucked her clit between her lips and hummed, and Leyla came with a shout that startled birds somewhere past the fence, her pussy clenching around him so hard he had to grip her hips and still himself to keep from following. She lay there panting, boneless, laughing at the sky.
"Get off her a second," Lisa said, pulling her mouth from Tara long enough to speak. Tara whimpered at the loss. "Jana. Lay down next to Leyla. Head to toe."
Jana scrambled into position on the tile, and Lisa rearranged them all like a director blocking a stage: Jana on her back, Lisa climbing on top of her in a sixty-nine, Tara kneeling behind Markus's spread legs, Leyla recovering on her elbows to watch.
"Fuck her mouth," Lisa told Markus, settling her soaked pussy over Jana's face. Jana's tongue went to work immediately, greedy and enthusiastic. "I know you're close. I want to watch you finish down her throat."
Markus knelt at Jana's head, angled his cock down, and Lisa took him in hand and painted Jana's lips with the head before guiding him in. Jana took him deep without flinching, gagging softly, her throat fluttering, one hand coming up to grip his thigh.
"Relax your throat, sweetie," Leyla advised from the sideline, genuinely helpful. "Breathe through your nose."
Markus fucked Jana's mouth in slow strokes, feeling every soft ridge of her palate, while Tara's fingers traced down his spine and between his cheeks, one fingertip pressing lightly at his asshole, not entering, just circling. The sensation nearly ended him.
Behind Lisa, the sight below her was what pushed him over: Jana's lips stretched around him, Jana's tongue lapping at Lisa's clit at the same time, Lisa riding both sensations with her head thrown back and her tits bouncing.
"Ready?" Lisa gasped. "Fill her mouth. She wants it, look at her."
Jana hummed agreement around his cock, and that was it. Markus groaned from deep in his chest and came hard, pulsing rope after rope onto Jana's tongue, her throat working to swallow around him, a little escaping the corner of her mouth. Lisa watched every second of it, grinding down on Jana's face, and her own orgasm broke over her a breath later, her thighs clamping around Jana's head as she cried out.
Tara, quiet Tara, had been rubbing herself the whole time, kneeling behind them with two fingers buried in her own pussy, and Jana, still licking her lips clean, noticed.
"You've been patient the longest," Jana said, voice rough. She sat up, pulled Tara's fingers away, and replaced them with her mouth, licking her own taste of Lisa off Tara's fingers first, then pressing her tongue into Tara. Tara made a small, broken sound and grabbed Jana's red curls.
Leyla, recovered, rolled over and crawled to Markus, who sat back on his heels, spent and dazed. She kissed him, tasting Lisa and himself and Jana all at once, her tongue lazy.
"Not bad for an old guy," she murmured.
Lisa flopped onto her back beside them, chest heaving, hair a dark-gold wreck. "Tara's the only one who hasn't come," she observed.
"She will," Jana said into Tara's pussy, and proved it inside a minute, working her clit with two fingers and her tongue until Tara's whole body tightened, her free hand flying to the tile, and she came silently except for a long shuddering exhale, hips jerking against Jana's mouth.
For a while nobody moved. Five bodies sprawled across the wet tile at the pool edge, steam rising faintly off the water, the night air cool on overheated skin. Somewhere far off, the night guard's flashlight swept the fence line and passed on.
Leyla found the vodka bottle by the lifeguard stand and took a swig, passing it to Lisa. "So," she said. "Same time next week?"
Lisa drank, wiped her mouth, and looked at Markus. He was still catching his breath, Jana's head on his thigh, Tara curled against his side. He shrugged, smiling.
"Next week's a school night for you three," he said.
"We're eighteen," Leyla said. "Every night is our night."
Lisa laughed and tipped the bottle toward her. "Bring better vodka."