Chloe had been let in by the spare key Hazel had given her after the foursome—"in case you ever want to visit," Hazel had said, and Chloe had kissed her cheek and promised she'd use it. She hadn't expected to use it today. But she'd found Ivy's wallet on the floor of the party store's stockroom, left behind in the chaos of closing, and she'd driven twenty minutes out of her way to return it.
The apartment was quiet when she let herself in. Too quiet. She'd been about to call out, set the wallet on the counter, leave a note—and then she heard it. A whimper. Muffled. Coming from the hallway. Pebbles was asleep on the couch, one wing draped over his head, undisturbed.
Chloe's instincts told her to leave. Her feet didn't move. The whimper came again, higher this time, and she heard Ivy's voice, low and breathless: Keep going. Don't stop.
She should leave. She knew she should leave.
She crept toward the sound instead, silent on the hardwood. The door to Hazel's room was cracked open, just a finger's width. She pressed her eye to the gap.
She saw the sleeve first—a stretchy tube of fabric, wrapped around two bodies on the floor. The bed was stripped bare, mattress covered in towels. Ivy and Hazel lay on their sides facing each other, legs intertwined, their hips pressed together inside the cloth binding. A balloon jutted between them, a double-nozzle balloon, one end in each of their mouths. Their cheeks were hollowed, blowing. The balloon expanded slowly, inch by inch, the latex growing taut and translucent as it filled the space inside the sleeve.
Chloe's breath caught. She pressed a hand to her mouth.
Dildos. Two of them, silicon, thrusting into each woman's ass from the other's hand. Vibrators nestled between their bodies, pressed against their cunts. The vibrators were positioned so the sleeve held them tight, the balloon's growing pressure transmitting every vibration between them. Ivy's eyes were closed, her face a mask of concentration. Hazel's eyes were open, locked on Ivy's face, and Chloe saw her lips move around the nozzle: More.
Chloe pulled out her phone. Not to share—never to share. But this was art. This was something she wanted to remember. She opened the camera and held it steady.
The balloon swelled. Twenty inches. Thirty. Hazel's cheeks hollowed deeper. Ivy's hips began to rock, grinding the vibrator against her cunt, and the motion pulled the dildo in her ass deeper, making Hazel gasp around the nozzle. Chloe watched Hazel's body respond—a flush spreading across her chest, her thighs trembling, the muscles in her stomach tightening as she blew and bucked at the same time.
Chloe's own hand drifted down. She pressed two fingers against the seam of her jeans, felt the heat rising through the denim. She wasn't filming for the act anymore—she was filming because it was beautiful, because these two women were making something together, and she wanted to learn how to make it with Noa and Liam. The latex stretched. The sleeve tightened. The vibrators hummed.
Ivy came first—a muffled cry, the dildo in her ass pushed so deep Chloe could see Hazel's knuckles white against the handle. Hazel's eyes went wide, and she blew harder, faster, the balloon swelling to forty inches, the latex groaning. The balloon pressed against the sleeve, tight, every surface transmitting vibration, and Hazel's body locked. Her back arched. The balloon shuddered as she climaxed into it, her silent scream visible in the column of her throat.
Chloe watched, barely breathing, two fingers pressed to her clit through her jeans.
The balloon didn't stop. They kept blowing, both of them, even as their bodies shook, even as they came. The latex stretched thinner. Translucent. The seam near the base of the double nozzle began to bulge—a weak point, a place where the rubber had been stressed by the shaping.
Chloe wanted to warn them. Wanted to hold the frame.
The balloon burst.
The sound was sharp and wet, a crack that echoed off the walls. Chloe flinched, her phone nearly dropping. The latex shattered, scraps of rubber flying against the sleeve, against their skin. Ivy's body went rigid. Hazel's mouth fell open, empty, a gasp that turned into something else—a full-body shudder, her legs kicking, her hands clawing at the floor. Ivy's eyes rolled back. Hazel's did too. They went slack together, their bodies still tangled, the sleeve still binding their hips, the dildos still inside them.
Chloe lowered her phone. She saved the video. She stared at the screen for a long moment, her heart hammering.
They weren't moving.
She counted to ten. Twenty. Thirty. Their chests rose and fell in slow rhythm, shallow but present. They were breathing. They were alive. They were unconscious.
Chloe pushed the door open fully. The room smelled like sweat and latex and the sharp ozone tang of recent friction. Pebbles hadn't moved from the couch. Chloe crossed to them, knelt beside the sleeve, and began to work it loose.
Her fingers found the edge of the fabric, stretched it over Ivy's hip, over Hazel's. The dildos slid out as she moved them—slow, careful, not wanting to hurt. One vibrator was still pressed against Ivy's cunt, buzzing against her clit. Chloe turned it off. Set it aside. She pulled a towel from the bare mattress and covered them with it, not to hide them, but to keep them warm.
She lifted Hazel's head, pillowed it on Ivy's shoulder. Ivy's arm came up, even in unconsciousness, curling around Hazel's back. Chloe stood, looking at them.
She felt something twist in her chest. Not jealousy. Longing. She wanted this with Noa and Liam. The same trust. The same vulnerability. The same willingness to be seen at the edge of consciousness, still holding each other.
She walked out, closing the door behind her.
The wallet was still in her pocket. She set it on the coffee table, next to a half-empty mug of tea. Pebbles blinked at her, tucked his head under his wing again, and fell back asleep.
Chloe let herself out, locking the door behind her. In the car, she sat for a long moment, then pulled up the video. Watched it once. Twice. Her hand drifted down again, slower this time, and she let herself watch it a third time before she put the phone away and buckled her seatbelt.
She had a long night ahead. And a video to explain to her husband and wife. She smiled, started the car, and let herself imagine their faces when she showed them.