Elena, Claire, and Vivian

The warm glow of Claire’s living room lamps spills into the hallway as you step inside, the faint scent of wine and expensive perfume drifting through the air. A slow jazz track hums softly in the background.

Claire appears first, barefoot, her hair loose, a glass of red in hand. Her black silk robe hangs open just enough to reveal the lace beneath.

“Elena’s in the kitchen,” she says with a knowing smile, “and Vivian’s… making herself comfortable in the bedroom.”

From the kitchen, Elena’s voice calls out, low and teasing, “Don’t keep us waiting, darling.” You catch a glimpse of her—dark hair swept over one shoulder, a deep green satin slip clinging to her curves.

At the end of the hallway, the bedroom door is slightly ajar. Vivian is perched on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, in pale blue lace that contrasts perfectly with her warm skin. She smirks as her eyes meet yours.

Claire steps closer, her fingers brushing your wrist. “We’ve all had you alone,” she murmurs, tilting her head toward the other two, “but tonight… we thought you deserved something different.”