Never Her

Dorian

The taller one smiles first, with glossy and fake lips, "We’ve prepared something special," she says, running a hand down her thigh like she’s presenting a gift.

The other pushes me down onto the armchair.

She pours vodka into a crystal glass and hands it to me. I take it, then she goes back.

I stare at them as they begin to move — slowly, and sensual. One peels the lace off her shoulders,