Jet-lagged in my sterile airport hotel room off rue Beaubien, I sip tea at the tiny kitchenette table. Montreal layover. Flight out tomorrow. Anonymity hits hard—no one knows me here. That forum post lingers: lesbian couple seeking a third for alley sex tonight. I responded impulsively after porn-fueled boredom. Crazy? Yeah. But the thrill… I laugh it off, grab my keycard, head out for snacks. Heavy bags clank against my rolling suitcase. Heels echo in empty corridors. Past the alley—dark, grimy, perfect for fantasies. Clock hits 7 PM. No one there. I smirk, hurry on.
Bags weigh me down. Arms ache. Drop them sidewalk-side to shake out. Yawn escapes.
The Layover
“Need help, miss?”
Turn. Thirties woman, confident smile. Marie, I later learn. Shake head, grab bags, speed-walk. Two blocks to hotel. Feel her eyes. Keycard beeps. Elevators hum. Dump bags in room. Unpack—wait, missing chips and ice cream. Left one by alley. Sigh. Retrace steps. Streets emptier. Alley looms. No bag.
“Looking for this?”
Marie again, holding it. Heart races. Mumble thanks, reach. She doesn’t hand over. Smiles fade. Steps into alley, drops it deep inside. Weird. Back away fast. Count steps. One, two…
“Hey, slow down.”
Different voice. Clara—stunning, delicate features, shy brown eyes, short hair. Holds my bag. Thank her. She matches pace. Hand grips forearm. Hot. Firm.
“Wait. Need help.”
The Transit
Eyes down. Follow her. Into dingy Chinese restaurant nearby. To bathrooms. She checks stalls. I glance mirror—frazzled long brown hair, pale face, purple dress hugging slim waist, legs, ass. She emerges.
“Your ass looks great.”
Jump. Laugh nervously.
“Need your help.” Pulls camera. “Photo. Proofs.”
Stunned. She hikes skirt, sits on counter, spreads legs. No panties. Smooth, glistening peach pussy. Swollen clit, string dangling—tampon? Amid wetness. Smell spicy. Zoom in. Click. She grabs camera, my bag, bolts.
Pulse pounds. Pussy throbs. Not lesbian, but… aroused. Sit at table. Tea arrives. Bell jingles. They enter—Marie, Clara. Point at me. Stomach drops. They approach.
“Marie. Sorry scared you. This is Clara, my sub tonight.”
Sit. Admit forum response. “Watch only, in alley. Join if you want. No strings.” Nod. Trance-like, follow. Keycard left behind. Sunset fades. Alley shadows.