The Faces of Alice: Part Three

Alice wakes up from the weirdest damn dream. She claws around for her glasses, but everything blurs in and out like bad reception. Her head’s pounding and she’s one blink away from passing out. Then this other feeling takes over, dragging her somewhere under her own skin. She stumbles out of bed, half inside, half out. Someone else wants the wheel—someone who calls herself Al. Al’s cocky, takes up every inch of Alice’s tight little frame. No wasted motions. No bullshit makeup routine. Christy steps in, eyebrow up, asking what the hell’s gotten into her. Alice starts answering, but Al shuts her down quick and starts circling Christy like it’s open season. Straight to the money shot—tells Christy she’s about to hit that g-spot, make her leak all over those panties. Christy’s cheeks go red before Al even touches her. One rough kiss later and Christy pulls back, surprised: "Are you packing heat?" Al smirks; yeah, she’s strapped with a purple double-ender, the other end already buried in her own cunt. She orders Christy out of her clothes, wants room to eat pussy without anything in the way. Christy peels off, pupils blown wide. Al drops down, tongue on the clit, two fingers hooked inside, tapping that spot in a steady beat. Christy’s hips jerk; Al tells her to climb on the strap. The second she sinks down, a hot squirt sprays out, then another. Al rides through it, grinning, soaked, wet slaps echoing off the walls. Christy breaks hard, shaking, coming on Al’s tongue, but Al doesn’t stick around for her own finish. She ducks into the bathroom, blanks out again—and this time Alicia steps up. Pink-lipstick, heels-clicking, loves getting railed, not giving it. She fixes her hair, lips, attitude, then strolls back like she owns the place. Christy’s still catching her breath when Alicia makes her request, soft but firm: put that double-ender in and don’t stop till she screams. Christy slides it home, moaning at the stretch. Alicia swings a leg over, ladylike, lowering onto the cock in smooth, filthy circles, grinding her trimmed lips against Christy’s hairy mound every time she bottoms out. She leans forward, ass up; Christy drives in harder from behind, watching Alicia’s slick cunt swallow silicone like it’s starving. The moans get higher, tighter, until Alicia shudders through a long, wet orgasm, soaking the sheets. Christy’s already close again, and Alicia finishes her off with quick tongue work that ends in another face-full of squirt. When Alice finally claws her way back up, eyes glassy, tears starting, Christy’s still breathing hard. Alice whispers a shaky "What just happened?" and Christy stares at her, half in lust, half in worry, wondering if "normal" ever stood a chance.