Everybody Get Up

The crunch of tyres on gravel made me glance out the living room window. A car I didn’t recognise pulled away. Not the taxi I’d expected.

The back door opened and Lola wandered in through the kitchen. Hair a mess, dress crumpled, mascara smudged under one eye. She looked like trouble. Straight to the sink, glass of water, not even a glance my way.

“Good gig then?” I asked.

“Yeah. Brilliant, actually.” She was talking too quick. “We were singing our lungs out, jumping about like we were twenty again. Band were class.” She traced her finger round the rim of her glass.

“You alright? You look rough.”

“I’m OK…ish. Started tame enough. You know what the girls are like, all prim and proper. Then Cara had her midlife crisis moment and came back with a tray of shots. We had a few.”

I raised a brow. “A few?”

She smirked, bit her lip. “Loads. And then Cara, being Cara, bumped into this stag do.”

There it was. My stomach tightened.

“A stag do.”

“They were funny. Loud. Proper cheeky younger lads, but generous. Kept buying us rounds.” Her cheeks were flushed. “We were all dancing, messing about, them lifting us up during songs. Harmless. Just a laugh.”

“How much dancing, Lola? I know what you’re like when you’re tipsy.”

“One of them, Mark, pulled me in close. I was grinding on him to Everybody Get Up. Cara was egging me on. I liked it, being wanted. But he was only thirty, so I thought it was harmless fun. Them mucking about with a bunch of nearly fifty-year-olds.” Her eyes darted away.

I stayed quiet, and she carried on.

“At the end of the gig the lads tried to drag us to a club. Cara was up for it but Kelly and Deena’s feet were killing. So we went back to the hotel bar for a nightcap. Thought that was it. Then, out of nowhere, the stag lads turned up again.”

Her eyes flicked to mine.

“Stag had been sick outside, bouncers wouldn’t let him in. So they came back. Turns out they were staying at our hotel. Same place as us. None of us had clocked it.” She gave a nervous laugh, sipping her water. “So it was more shots, more pints, more piss-taking. I thought it would fizzle out. But then someone said we should head up to Mark’s room. He had a speaker. Could keep the party going without the bar staff kicking us out.”

Her voice softened, colour rising in her cheeks.

“So we all piled in. Ten of us at first. Warm cans, plastic cups, dodgy little speaker blasting a cheesy nineties playlist. We were dancing like idiots. Felt like we were kids again.”

She laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Then one by one the girls slipped off. Deena first, then Kelly, then Cara. By half four it was just me. I kept saying ‘one more drink, one more song,’ but I didn’t want it to end.”

My pulse thudded.

“The lads were buzzing I was still there. Someone grabbed my hand, pulled me up to dance between the beds. We were spilling lager everywhere, trying not to wake the floor.” She finally looked at me, biting her lip. “It was silly. Just messing about. But then…”

I stepped closer. “Then what, Lola?”

She shifted on her feet. “Then one of them kissed me.” A whisper. “Mark. The one whose room it was. We were dancing, and he leaned in. Kissed me. And I…” She stared at her glass. “I kissed him back.”

My chest tightened. “In front of the others?”

She nodded. “Yeah. They all whooped and laughed. But it didn’t stop. He pressed me against the wardrobe, tongue down my throat, hands all over me.” Her fingers twisted the hem of her skirt. “I knew it was wrong. But the way he touched me, like he didn’t care who was watching, it made me so wet.”

I clenched my jaw. “And the others?”

“One sat on the bed, grinning. Another was rolling a fag. Mark didn’t care. He pushed my dress up, right there. I remember the sound of a can clattering across the floor when he yanked my knickers aside and started fingering me.”

Her pupils were wide. Her hand slid to my chest, then lower, cupping the bulge in my jeans.

“My fanny was throbbing. I wanted him so badly.”

I swallowed hard. “And did you let him?”

Her lips parted as her hand tugged me free. She stroked me slow. “I didn’t just let him. I wanted it. I moaned so loud I thought the whole hotel would hear.”

Her voice dropped, raw. “He bent me over the bed and shoved into me so hard I nearly fell forward. His mate sat right there, watching my tits bounce. I was delirious with his cock inside me.”

I groaned, her grip tightening.

“His mate unzipped his jeans, came over, pushed his cock into my mouth. I was stuffed at both ends, choking and dripping while they used me. The sun was coming up through the curtains and I had them both inside me.”

Her forehead pressed to mine. “They swapped me all night. On my knees, on my back, riding one while sucking the other. Holding me down, spitting on me, calling me a dirty slut. And I loved it. I couldn’t stop cumming. Every time one finished, the other was already hard again.”

Her hand pumped me faster now, eyes locked on mine. “They came in me, in my mouth, on my tits. I lost count. My knickers ruined, dress stuck to me with sweat and spunk. I left their room in the morning still dripping, walked past reception like that, fanny full of their cum.”

She gasped, licking her fingers as I came in her hand.

The fridge hummed. The air was thick with sex and guilt. She leaned in, voice trembling.

“I belonged to them last night. But tonight I’m yours. For now.”