“Then we’ll make it less weird for you,” she purred, meeting Laszlo’s stunned eyes. “Marc and I will be naked too.”
Laszlo ran a hand down his face, groaning softly. “That doesn’t make it less weird,”
The kitchen was bright compared to the rest of the house, the overhead light glowing down against pale cabinets and the speckled countertop. A bowl of snacks and half-empty glasses cluttered the space, the casual mess of a small birthday gathering. The hum of faint music drifted in from the living room. The four of them clustered close in the light.
Gina perched on a tall stool by the counter. Her shorts left her legs bare from the hem of her tight denim shorts to the tops of her sneakers. The shorts clung to her hips, cut high enough that the curve of her butt was on full display. Her cropped white tank top left her stomach bare. So low cut that one wrong lean forward might spill her breasts into view. She fidgeted with the hem as though aware of it, her hair falling over her shoulders in soft, loose strands.
Laszlo stood close to her. One hand on the counter, the other shoved into his pocket. He was tall but not imposing, his frame lean under a plain t-shirt and jeans. His dark hair was neatly cut, though he’d run his fingers through it so many times it stuck up in places.
Marc leaned back lazily against the fridge, arms folded, his loose basketball shorts hanging low on his hips. The thin cotton did nothing to hide his arousal, a bulge pressing forward each time he shifted. His tank top showed off his broad shoulders and solid build, not sculpted but strong in a casual, athletic way. He smirked more than he smiled, eyes roving freely over Gina and Dahlia both, as though nothing about his interest needed hiding.
Dahlia was the opposite of Gina’s nervous energy. Where Gina tugged at her clothes, Dahlia flaunted hers. Her little black dress clung like a second skin, thin straps slipping carelessly down her shoulders, the short hem rising so high her bare thighs gleamed in the kitchen light. With no panties beneath. Any bend or careless movement showed everyone this fact, something she seemed not to care about in the slightest. Her black hair fell straight and sharp around her face. Her lips were painted glossy red, her grin constant. She drifted from one person to the next, never standing still long, fingers grazing an arm here, a shoulder there, like she needed to be touching someone at all times.
Gina leaned forward to grab a bowl from across the counter. Her top strained, the neckline sagging until the swell of her breast spilled free. She caught it with a startled laugh, tugging the fabric back into place with both hands.
“Oops,” she giggled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Guess this top wasn’t made for leaning.”
Dahlia’s grin widened as she passed behind her, hand trailing casually over Gina’s bare thigh before she snatched the bowl for her. “Careful, birthday girl, or you’ll make the guys hard.”
Marc chuckled, the sound low and smug. “Not that anyone here would complain.” His eyes lingered openly on Gina, flicking down her top before she looked away.
Laszlo shifted beside her, posture stiffening. He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscle in his jaw flexing, but he said nothing. Dahlia, sensing his tension, moved behind him instead. She leaned against his back to reach something from the counter, her chest pressing deliberately into him.
“You’re all stiff, Laz,” she teased in a sultry whisper, her hand brushing his arm as she drew away. “Relax. It’s a party.”
Marc didn’t give him time to answer. He slid past, circling behind Gina where she sat on the stool. His hand landed suddenly on the curve of her denim-clad butt, squeezing firmly. Gina gasped in surprise, half laughing as she glanced over her shoulder, but she didn’t push him away.
Laszlo’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Marc—”
Gina reached for his arm quickly, her hand warm and trembling against him.
“It’s fine,” she said softly, almost pleading. “Don’t… It’s okay.”
He swallowed back whatever he was going to say, his hand curling into a fist at his side, cheeks hot with jealousy and restraint. Marc’s grin only widened, his hand lingering another second before Dahlia hip-bumped him playfully, pulling his attention back to her.
“You’re bad,” she said with a laugh, sliding onto his lap without hesitation. His hand disappeared beneath the short hem of her dress, her gasp sharp but amused as she smirked at Gina and Laszlo across the counter. “But some things,” she added, eyes glittering, “are worth being bad for.”
Laszlo’s breath caught when Marc’s fingers clearly teased higher beneath Dahlia’s dress, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably, torn between annoyance and arousal. Gina, red-faced, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear again, chewing her lip as her eyes darted between the bold couple across from her and Laszlo’s protective silence.
The kitchen was warm now, too small for the four of them, and the electricity in the air. Dahlia shifted on Marc’s lap, her black dress riding scandalously higher, exposing her smooth hip. His hand was still under the fabric, moving in slow circles that made her lips part, though she kept her voice light.
“So,” Dahlia said suddenly, turning her head toward Gina with a sly smile. “You still want to do that thing we talked about a few days ago?”
Her tone was playful, but the way her body tensed for a heartbeat betrayed how hard she was working to keep composure. Her lashes fluttered once as Marc’s fingers slid deeper, and her hand clutched the countertop behind her for balance. Gina’s cheeks went pink instantly. She straightened on her stool, legs pressing together, eyes darting from Dahlia to Laszlo.
“Y-yeah,” she said softly, almost a whisper. Then stronger, after a swallow: “Yes. I still want it.”
Laszlo’s brows lifted. “Want what?”
Marc chuckled, low and mocking. “Yeah, what’s this secret the girls have been scheming about?” His free hand tapped lazily against Dahlia’s thigh, completely unapologetic.
Dahlia tilted her head, letting her dark hair fall forward, her lips curving. “Mmm… nothing important.” She leaned closer to Gina, lowering her voice conspiratorially but loud enough for the guys to hear. “Just… birthday things.”
Gina bit her lip and giggled nervously, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “Special birthday things,” she echoed, eyes flicking toward Laszlo before skittering away.
“Special and secret?” Marc smirked. “That doesn’t sound fair.”
Laszlo gave Gina a gentle look, his voice steady though his hand curled tight on the counter. “Is this… sexual?”
Dahlia’s breath hitched suddenly. A sharp little squeak escaped her lips, her body shivering visibly as Marc’s hand stilled beneath her dress. Her head tilted back for a moment, lips parted, before she forced her eyes open again. Marc grinned shamelessly, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean without hesitation. His gaze locked with Laszlo’s the entire time, daring him to react.
Gina’s face burned red. She shifted in her seat, thighs squeezing together as she found her courage. Her voice trembled, but the words came anyway.
“I… I want my first time with Laszlo to be filmed. With you two filming it. Starting right at midnight.”
The room seemed to stop, only the hum of the fridge filling the silence.
Laszlo stared at her, stunned, heart pounding at the mix of nerves and desire in her wide eyes. Dahlia exhaled a long, satisfied sigh, her voice rich and sultry as she leaned into Marc’s chest.
“Mmm… now that,” she purred, her lips curving into a slow smile, “sounds like it’ll be fun to see.”
Marc’s smirk widened, his hand spreading over Dahlia’s bare thigh possessively. “Hell, I’m already enjoying the previews.”
Gina glanced anxiously at Laszlo, her lip caught between her teeth, waiting for him to answer. Laszlo’s brows furrowed, his jaw tightening as he studied Gina. The others might have been swept up in the heat of the moment, but for him, this was different. His hand reached for hers on the counter, fingers brushing hers softly.
“Are you sure,” he asked, voice low and serious, “that you don’t want your first time to be private? Just us? No cameras, no distractions?”
Gina looked up at him, her blush blooming hotter across her cheeks. For a moment, she seemed caught between her nerves and her excitement. Then she squeezed his hand, her voice trembling but sure.
“No. I want… this. I want to remember it. To be able to watch it again, later… and relive it.” Her eyes darted to Dahlia, then back to Laszlo.
Before Laszlo could respond, Dahlia gave a throaty little laugh and slid off Marc’s lap. She stood tall in the middle of the kitchen, then, with one smooth motion, tugged her black dress up and over her head. The fabric dropped to the tile. She was left completely bare, her body slender and smooth, her nipples hard from exposure. She planted a hand on her hip and smiled wickedly.
“Then we’ll make it less weird for you,” she purred, meeting Laszlo’s stunned eyes. “Marc and I will be naked too.”
Marc barked a laugh. “Oh, I’m in on that idea.” He pulled out his phone, holding it up as Dahlia spun lightly on her toes, striking a cute pose with one hand behind her head and the other brushing over her breast. He snapped the photo, grinning at her boldness.
Laszlo ran a hand down his face, groaning softly. “That doesn’t make it less weird,” he muttered. His eyes dropped, though, against his will. Dahlia’s shamelessness made her hard to ignore. Marc was already stripping, tugging his tank top off, and letting his shorts fall. His cock hung thick and heavy. The casual confidence with which he stood there made Laszlo’s stomach tighten with unease.
Dahlia scooped up her phone again, the camera already rolling as she followed Laszlo and Gina down the hall. She hummed cheerfully, the little bounce in her step sending her breasts swaying as though this was all just lighthearted fun. They entered the bedroom.
Laszlo unbuttoned his shirt slowly, his skin prickling at the knowledge that the lens was aimed right at him. He tugged the fabric off, then his jeans, trying to keep his focus on Gina instead of Dahlia’s smirk. But when he glanced over, his chest tightened.
Marc had slid behind Gina, his broad hands resting lightly on her hips. She was still dressed. Her tight shorts clinging to her legs, tank top hugging her chest, but her blush was furious as Marc pressed against her back. His cock nestled neatly in the space between her thighs.
“See that?” Marc murmured smugly, just loud enough for Laszlo to hear. "She's like a cock magnet."
Gina gasped softly, her body stiffening. Then she broke away with a nervous laugh, stepping quickly to Laszlo’s side. Her eyes darted up to his, wide and embarrassed, her cheeks glowing red. Laszlo clenched his jaw but said nothing, taking her hand. The camera still rolling, the air heavier than ever.
The bedroom felt warmer than the kitchen, the air dense with the smell of perfume, sweat, and anticipation. A bedside lamp glowed low in the corner, casting soft golden light across the room. The sheets were rumpled from earlier use, the carpet thick under their bare feet, and the only sound was the faint ticking of a wall clock above the dresser. Dahlia, still holding the phone camera steady, tilted her head toward Gina and asked in a mock-whisper, her lips curling in mischief.
“So… do you want me to get him ready for you?” She asked.
Gina’s blush deepened instantly, and she pressed her knuckles to her lips to stifle a giggle. Her eyes flicked to Laszlo, then down to the bulge straining his jeans. With a nervous little laugh, she nodded.
“Yeah… I think I do. I want you to give him a hand job. Since Marc…” She shot a glance over her shoulder, her tone teasing. “…can’t keep his hands to himself.”
Marc, already sprawled on the edge of the bed, bristled. His jaw flexed, but then he huffed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Fair. I deserve that.” His tone was grudging but heated, his eyes burning at the thought of Dahlia touching another man.
Laszlo’s heart hammered. He swallowed, his voice quiet, uncertain. “You really want this, Gina?”
Her nod was quick, sure. “I do.”
Dahlia didn’t hesitate. She handed the phone off to Marc for a moment, then stepped in front of Laszlo. Her body was bare, glowing in the lamplight, every curve offered freely as she tugged at the waistband of his boxers.
Laszlo’s breath caught as she slid her hand inside. Her fingers were warm, slow at first as they wrapped around him, coaxing him to full hardness.
She grinned up at Gina. “Mmm… he’s thick.”
Gina giggled again, cheeks burning, watching from just a few feet away. Laszlo’s chest rose and fell sharply. He couldn’t ignore the sensation, but his eyes stayed on Gina. On her nervous smile, the way she hugged her arms under her chest like she needed something to hold onto. As the pressure in his balls built towards an orgasm, he wondered. Would Dahlia take him all the way? For a moment, the question hung in the air. But before he could speak, Gina shook her head, almost breathless.
“It’s nearly time,” she whispered.
The ticking clock filled the silence, louder now. Just one minute to midnight. Dahlia released him with a little squeeze, then snatched the phone back from Marc, swinging the camera toward Gina. She shoved Marc into a nearby chair with playful force.
Marc chuckled, shaking his head, but he obeyed. His hands gripped the armrests, his thighs spread wide as his cock stood tall and eager. Dahlia crouched low beside Gina, holding the phone at the perfect angle to capture everything.
She leaned close to Gina’s ear, her voice silky. “Ready? We’ll count it down.”
The seconds ticked by. Gina’s hands fumbled with the button on her jean shorts. Her fingers trembled as she worked it loose, each little tug revealing more of the soft V of her lower belly. Laszlo’s gaze was locked, helpless. They had been dating for a year, but he hadn't seen her naked yet. With every inch the zipper slid down, his heart beat harder. Marc leaned forward in the chair, unable to sit still. His big hands gripped the waistline of Gina’s shorts.
“Ten,” Dahlia’s voice rang out, playful but sharp with excitement.
“Nine…”
Gina gasped softly, clutching the hem of her tank top in both hands.
“Eight…”
Her knuckles whitened as Marc’s fingers toyed with the waistband.
“Seven…”
Laszlo’s cock twitched under the weight of Dahlia’s earlier touch, his eyes drinking in every line of Gina’s body.
“Six…”
Marc gave a gentle tug, the shorts loosening around her hips.
“Five…”
Gina’s breath quickened. She held her shirt tighter, the fabric straining over her breasts.
“Four…”
Marc’s grin widened as the waistband slid lower, revealing the very top of her mound.
“Three…”
Laszlo’s pulse thundered in his ears. He was so close to seeing all of her, his throat dry, his skin hot.
“Two…”
Gina bit her lip, her blush spreading across her throat. Her fingers clenched the hem of her shirt one last time.
“One…”
In one fluid motion, Gina yanked her shirt up and over her head as Marc tugged her shorts down around her thighs.
“Zero!” Dahlia shouted, the camera catching every angle.
Gina stood bare, her breasts bouncing free, her nipples stiff. The soft lips of her sex glistening faintly in the lamplight.
Laszlo’s breath tore from his chest, his cock aching at the sight. He couldn’t look away. Gina’s blush was furious, but her smile was radiant. Nervous, shy, yet undeniably turned on by being stripped in front of them all.
Laszlo’s chest heaved as he reached for her. His hand was steady. He was filled with hunger he could no longer disguise. He gently laced his fingers through Gina’s, his palm warm against hers.
“Come,” he said softly, guiding her toward the bed.
Gina’s legs trembled, her shorts still clinging halfway down her thighs. She climbed onto the mattress with him, her bare breasts rising and falling, nipples flushed and tight. The sheets were cool against her knees. Her blush deepened as Dahlia laughed lightly and moved to straddle Marc’s lap.
“Don’t mind us,” Dahlia purred, angling the camera with one hand as Marc’s hands clamped firmly on her hips.
Marc didn’t waste a second. His cock slid into her with a wet, eager thrust, and Dahlia kept the camera focused on Gina. Her thighs spread wide over Marc’s lap, her breasts bouncing with every motion. Gina tried not to stare, but her eyes kept darting to them. It made the heat in her belly twist tighter. Then Laszlo’s mouth found hers.
The kiss started gently, testing, but Gina pushed into it hungrily. Her lips parting, tongue searching his. She whimpered against his mouth, the sound almost desperate. Laszlo groaned and pressed harder, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush.
His mouth left hers only to travel lower. Down the curve of her jaw, the delicate column of her throat. Gina arched back, giving him more. His lips brushed her collarbone, then her shoulder, then the upper swell of her breast.
“Laszlo…” she whispered, clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging through his shirt.
She slid her hands over him, tracing the lines of muscle, feeling his heat. His chest was broad, dusted with a fine trail of hair that disappeared beneath his waistband. His mouth closed around her nipple, and she cried out, her back bowing. He teased with his tongue, slow and patient, while his hand cupped the weight of her other breast, thumb stroking in circles until she was panting. Her hips rolled unconsciously against him. The denim bunched around her thighs kept her trapped, her body begging for more.
On the other side of the room, Dahlia was gasping as Marc’s thrusts grew sharper, the wet sound of their coupling unmistakable. She managed to hold the camera steady, angling it toward Gina and Laszlo now.
Her breathless voice taunting, “God, you two look so good together. Gina, tell him how much you want it…”
“I do,” Gina moaned, writhing under Laszlo’s kisses. Her words spilled out in a rush, unfiltered, hot. “Please… Please make me feel it. I want your hands… your mouth everywhere. Don’t make me wait, please.”
Laszlo shuddered at her plea, his lips trailing down her stomach, across the smooth plane of her belly. She was trembling by the time he reached the waistband of his boxers. He hooked his fingers under the fabric and tugged them slowly down, finally baring himself completely. Her mound was perfectly smooth, freshly shaved, glistening faintly with her arousal.
Laszlo pressed a kiss just above it. Gina cried out, hips jerking forward. His mouth didn’t move lower. He kissed the hollow of her hipbone instead, then the tender skin of her inner thigh. Again and again, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her slit but never the touch she craved.
“Laszlo…” she begged, her voice breaking into a frustrated whimper. “Please, I need you. Don’t tease me like this, I can’t, ohhh…”
Her head twisted toward Dahlia’s phone, toward the sight of Marc’s thick cock driving into her friend’s dripping cunt. Gina’s eyes locked on them, watching Marc’s every thrust. Her thighs pressed wider. Her voice rose, desperate.
“Do it, please. I want you inside me, too. I want to feel it. I want you to fuck me, Laszlo, don’t make me wait.”
He hesitated, groaning, torn between control and need. Finally, his fingers slid lower, stroking the slick heat between her thighs. Gina gasped, her whole body arching off the bed, grinding into his touch as if she might fuse to his hand. Her moans filled the room, raw and needy, her voice trembling as she clutched his hair and begged for more.
Laszlo hovered over her, his body trembling with restraint. His fingers were still buried inside her, slick and glistening, stroking with deliberate care. Gina’s thighs clung tightly around his wrist, her chest heaving with every whimper.
“Laszlo… please,” she whispered, eyes wide, cheeks flushed crimson. “I’m ready. I want all of you.”
Her words broke something in him. With a groan, he eased his hand away, leaving her aching, empty. He pulled her shorts off her, finally freeing her legs. She spread them wide. The sight of her pussy opening and being wet for him tore away any thought that he might try to draw this out further. He kissed her lips once, tender and reassuring, then shifted forward, guiding his cock to her entrance. The blunt heat of him pressed against her folds, slicking with her arousal. Gina shivered, her nails biting into his shoulders. Her eyes darted once toward Dahlia’s phone before flying back to his face.
“Eyes on me,” Laszlo murmured, kissing her again as he slowly pushed in.
The first stretch stole her breath. She gasped into his mouth, back arching, thighs quivering as he eased deeper. Her body was tight around him, unaccustomed but yielding, wetness drawing him inside inch by inch.
“Oh—oh, God…” she moaned, clutching his back. He stopped halfway, forehead pressed to hers, giving her a moment to adjust. His lips trailed over her cheeks, her jaw, her throat, murmuring soothing words. He didn't want to hurt her virgin pussy. Gina panted under him, writhing impatiently. “Don’t stop… I can take it… please.”
He pushed the rest of the way in, slowly, until their hips were flush. Gina cried out sharply, her walls clenching around him. Her face twisted in overwhelmed pleasure, half pain, half bliss. She turned her head instinctively, catching sight of Marc thrusting up into Dahlia just feet away, her friend’s breasts bouncing as she filmed with the camera. The sight made Gina’s pulse race. Her body clutched at Laszlo even tighter. He began to move.
Slow strokes at first, steady and deep, every thrust accompanied by soft kisses down her chest. His mouth closed around her nipple, sucking gently, then kissing lower, then back to her lips. Gina whimpered with every motion, her hips meeting his, her legs spreading wider.
“Laszlo…” she gasped, eyes rolling back. “You feel so good. Don’t stop.”
Her body moved restlessly under him, grinding up, arching, desperate for every inch. She clung to him like he was the only solid thing in the world. Still, her gaze kept flickering toward Dahlia’s phone, toward the image of herself being filled for the first time, captured forever. The thought made her wetter, made her cry out louder. The pressure built quickly. Heat coiled tight inside her belly, every thrust pushing her closer.
She whimpered, babbled, begged without shame. “Please—please—I’m gonna—Laszlo, I can’t—”
Her climax hit like a wave. Gina convulsed under him, her back arching, thighs clamping around his waist as she screamed his name. Her walls clenched rhythmically around his cock, milking him, her nails dragging red trails down his back.
Laszlo groaned into her chest, kissing her wildly as he sped up, pounding harder to draw her orgasm out. Gina writhed, shuddering, each thrust sparking aftershocks through her overstimulated body.
She was half sobbing, half laughing, lost in pleasure. “Oh my God—yes, don’t stop, don’t stop—”
He drove into her deep and hard until his own control snapped. With a strangled groan, he buried himself fully. Holding her tight as he spilled inside her. His hips jerked, grinding against her as his climax poured out in hot, pulsing waves. For a long moment, they clung together, sweat-slick and trembling, Gina still gasping through the last ripples of her release. Behind them, Dahlia’s sultry laugh and Marc’s grunts carried on, the phone still capturing every angle. But Gina’s eyes stayed locked on Laszlo’s, dazed and glowing.
Laszlo eased out of her with a soft groan, his arms gathering Gina close against him. She gasped at the sudden emptiness, then melted back into his chest, her body trembling but utterly satisfied. He lay on his side, her smaller frame nestled in front of him, both of them facing Dahlia’s still-watching phone.
The camera caught everything: Gina’s flushed face, her mussed hair, her parted lips still glistening with sweat. And lower, the faint white trickle seeping from between her thighs, sliding lazily down the curve of her leg onto the sheets.
Laszlo kissed the back of her neck, whispering into her ear, “I love you.”
Her smile bloomed, shy and radiant. She wiggled her hips against him, teasing, her sticky warmth pressing into his softening cock. “I love you too,” she breathed, her eyes flicking once at the phone before returning to Dahlia and Marc.
On the chair, Marc was grinding hard into Dahlia, his hands gripping her hips. At the same time, she arched against him, hair spilling wildly across her shoulders.
Dahlia moaned shamelessly, tossing her head back. “Yes—yes, don’t stop—”
Marc groaned, burying deep with a final thrust. His body went rigid, pulsing inside her as Dahlia gasped and bucked, her climax shuddering through her body. Her nails dug into his back, her voice breaking into breathless laughter as she rode the wave. The room was filled with heavy breathing. She finally let it fall onto the nightstand, the lens still pointed loosely in their direction.
Dahlia broke the silence first, chuckling in that bold, unbothered way of hers. “Well… that was one hell of a birthday present.”
Gina buried her face into Laszlo’s chest, giggling, her blush creeping down her neck. “You’re not wrong…”
Marc grinned wolfishly, stretching back with no shame in his nudity. “I’ll say this, girl’s way sexier than I expected. Didn’t think you’d actually let us film the whole thing.”
Gina’s blush deepened, but she lifted her head, meeting his grin with a sheepish smile. “That was the point. I wanted… to be able to see it again. To remember it exactly how it happened.”
Laszlo kissed her temple, his hand tightening protectively around her waist. “And you will. But don’t forget…” His voice dropped low, tender and fierce all at once. “It was ours first of many.”
She giggled at the thought, kissed him, long and slow, before tucking herself back into his arms.
Dahlia sighed, flopping onto her back, her breasts still rising and falling with deep breaths. “Guess that means next time, it’s my turn to pick the fantasy.”
Marc laughed, already reaching for her again. “As if you don’t already have three lined up.”
The girls laughed, Gina softly, Dahlia with a sultry edge. Laszlo only shook his head, content to keep his lover close.