“Yeah, what kind of sluts seduce a gay guy?” he said with a playful grin.
“The kind that are hot enough to succeed,” Chiara shot back.
The late sun spilled through the balcony doors, painting the hotel room in a warm, golden haze. The air smelled faintly of salt from the sea beyond, mixed with the faint sweetness of Chiara’s wine. Livia lay sprawled diagonally across the bed in a loose tank top and panties, one leg dangling lazily over the side. Her hair fanned messily across the pillow, catching the light. At the foot of the bed, Chiara sat cross-legged, her t-shirt bunched slightly at the hips as she swirled the wine in her glass, the liquid glinting ruby in the sun. Marco lounged in the armchair, bare legs stretched out, shorts riding low on his hips, a lazy grin on his face.
“I still can’t believe you two dragged me up that hill,” Marco said. “I’m convinced my calves are filing for divorce.”
“Oh, please.” Livia rolled onto her side with a small huff. “You barely broke a sweat. Chiara was the one complaining about the heat the whole way up.”
“I was not complaining,” Chiara said, lifting her chin. “I was… commenting. Loudly.”
“Pretty sure the German tourists behind us thought you were dying,” Marco said.
Chiara laughed into her glass, the sound light and unbothered. “Well, maybe I was. You try climbing that many steps in this humidity.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Livia said, stretching her arms above her head in a slow, catlike arc. “Besides, the view was worth it.”
Marco raised an eyebrow. “The view? Or the gelato stand conveniently placed at the top?”
“Exactly,” Chiara said, pointing at him with her glass. “That lemon gelato was divine. I’d do it all over again for that.”
“And for the shirtless vendor,” Livia added with a smirk. “Don’t forget him.”
Chiara’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, you noticed too?”
“Please,” Livia said. “If you didn’t notice those abs, you need glasses.”
“He had a hot ass, but I was distracted by his terrible tattoo,” Marco said. “I think it was supposed to be a lion, but it looked like a wet cat.”
“You’re impossible,” Chiara told him, shaking her head.
“And you still tipped him more than either of us,” Livia said, tossing a pillow across the room.
Marco caught it easily and hugged it to his chest. “Hey, it’s vacation. Generosity is a virtue.”
“Translation,” Chiara said, grinning, “you wanted him to think you were rich.”
“Absolutely not.” Marco paused, then sighed. “Okay, maybe a little. Also, I might go back and see if he wants a tourist cock.”
Livia laughed. “You’re shameless.”
“Says the woman who flirted with that gondolier yesterday just to get a free ride,” Marco said.
Chiara turned to her friend, wide-eyed. “Wait, is that what happened? I thought he just liked your accent.”
Livia pressed her lips together in an exaggerated innocent expression. “Maybe both.”
“Unbelievable,” Marco said, shaking his head but smiling all the same.
A soft lull settled over the room. The sound of faint street music drifted in from below.
“Honestly, today was perfect,” Chiara said at last, leaning back on her hands. “The food, the sun, the hike… it feels like we’ve been gone for weeks instead of just a few days.”
“Yeah,” Livia agreed quietly. “It’s been good. Just… easy, you know?”
“That’s what happens when you vacation with people you actually like,” Marco said.
Chiara grinned. “Aww, look at you being sentimental.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said. “It’ll ruin my reputation.”
The ceiling fan gave a slow, uneven turn, then stopped altogether.
Chiara let out an irritated huff. “Great. That’s the third time. And it’s after nine now. They said the maintenance guy would be gone if it stopped again.”
“It’ll be fine,” Livia said. “They’re putting in a new one tomorrow. And we’ve got the floor fan they lent us.” She leaned over the side of the bed and switched it on.
Chiara shrugged. Then, with a sudden motion, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it onto her suitcase. She was left in nothing but her cheeky panties. Stretching lazily, she arched her back. Livia’s eyes widened as she caught sight of her friend’s bare breasts.
“Did you forget there’s a guy in the room?” Livia asked.
Chiara rolled her eyes. “Did you forget he’s gay? Boobs aren’t going to do anything for him. Plus, it's going to get hot in here.”
“She’s right,” Marco said, raising his glass in salute. “I feel nothing. They do look nice, though.”
“Really? Nothing? Not even a little hard?” Livia asked, amused, as she sat up.
“Really,” Marco confirmed.
“I feel the need to test this,” Livia said with a sly grin. She pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it aside. Her breasts were smaller than Chiara’s but just as perky. With a playful shake of her shoulders, she made them bounce. “Now?”
Marco laughed. “Still nothing,” he said, but he nodded approvingly. “They look great, though.”
Chiara laughed with him. “Okay… how about a real test?”
She stepped away from the bed and sauntered over to Marco, hips swaying. She motioned for Livia to join her. When both women stood in front of him, Chiara hooked her thumbs into her panties and slid them down to the floor, baring her neatly trimmed pubic hair without hesitation. Livia hesitated. She tugged at the waistband of her own panties, pausing for a second before slipping them off. She held a hand in front of herself for a moment, then dropped it and let him see her completely shaved slit.
Marco smiled warmly. “Yeah… still nothing. But you two look gorgeous, by the way. A straight man would be drooling.”
“I don’t believe you,” Chiara said, her giggle soft and teasing.
“Don’t know what to tell you,” Marco replied, casual as ever.
“I want proof. Take off your shorts.” Her tone was playful, but her eyes dared him. Livia’s cheeks warmed instantly.
Marco didn’t hesitate. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband, slid his shorts down, and sat back in the chair naked. With an easy grin, he pointed toward his clearly flaccid cock before taking a slow sip of wine. Livia’s gaze flicked toward it, then quickly away.
Chiara leaned in, her breath brushing Livia’s ear. She whispered something that made Livia’s brows shoot up. For a moment, she looked startled… then her lips curved into a grin, and she gave a small, decisive nod.
They leaned toward each other, bodies close, arms wrapping around in a slow, sure embrace. The kiss started gently but quickly deepened, a hungry, breath-stealing exchange that made the air between them hum.
“Still not working, ladies, but I like the lesbian action. Don't let me stop you. Explore your new desires.” Marco said, rising from his chair to refill his glass. His tone was smug, but his step was unhurried.
"You're such a jerk.* Chiara giggled.
When he turned back, Livia was perched on the edge of the bed, her legs parted in quiet invitation. She wore a look that was part shyness, part heat. Between her knees, Chiara knelt with unshakable confidence. Winking at Marco, she leaned in slowly, her lips brushing and tasting, drawing a soft, unguarded sound from Livia’s throat.
Her tongue traced a slow path before finding her clit, and she sucked gently. She slipped a finger inside, curling it in just the right way. Livia’s breathing turned uneven, her head falling back onto the pillow. Marco settled himself near her shoulders, watching with a deliberate calm as if to underline his earlier claim.
Livia’s hands clutched the sheets. Her hips shifted restlessly until the tension inside her broke apart in a sudden rush, her body shuddering with release.
Chiara sat back on her heels, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Still nothing?” she asked, breathless but teasing.
“Told you,” Marco replied, stretching out on the bed as though nothing could disturb him.
Livia slid up beside him, her skin still warm, breath still uneven. “How do we even know it works?” she asked, almost mischievous now. Chiara crawled onto the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, and straddled him across his thighs.
“Maybe she’s right,” she said, wrapping her fingers around him.
Marco’s mouth curved as his cock hardened under her touch. “Naked women won’t get me hard,” he said. “But anyone touching it will. Now that it’s hard… what will you do with it?”
“Have you ever been with a woman?” Livia asked, her voice low.
“No. But I’m open to trying.”
“Can I?” Chiara asked, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“Absolutely,” he said, smiling up at her.
She slid forward and settled onto his lap, her knees bracketing his hips. Taking him in hand, she moved his cock along her folds, rubbing the tip over her clit to heighten her own arousal. A soft sound escaped her as she shifted it back to her entrance. Then, in one smooth motion, she lowered herself onto him. Her slick heat welcomed him easily, and a deep moan left her lips at the stretch and pleasure of it.
“Okay,” he groaned, breath catching. “I can see why straight guys like this.”
Livia moved closer, looping an arm around his shoulders. Chiara giggled and began a slow, steady pump up and down his length. Their moans blended, and Marco’s hips rose to meet hers, the motion becoming instinctive.
Livia reached for his hands, guiding them to Chiara’s breasts. He hesitated, unsure, until Chiara took one of his hands and pressed it firmly against her. The sharp change in her moan told him everything he needed to know. He began kneading and exploring without further instruction. Livia’s hand trailed down along his body until her fingers brushed where his cock was sliding in and out of Chiara. She found Chiara’s clit and began to rub in slow, precise circles, matching their rhythm.
Her climax hit hard. Chiara’s back arched instinctively, every nerve alight, a fire spreading through her with dizzying speed. Her legs pressed tightly against him, muscles trembling as she fought to maintain control, while her hands braced her on his abs. Marco’s hands gripped her hips with steady pressure, a grounding presence that only made her crave the sensations more.
Her breath came in ragged bursts, short and trembling, mingling with soft, raw moans that seemed to echo off the walls. Goosebumps rose along her arms and shoulders, her skin tingling at every touch, every subtle shift in his rhythm. The warmth between them was intoxicating, and the room seemed to shrink around their bodies.
She tilted her head back, eyes fluttering closed, letting herself sink into the wave of pleasure, her mind dizzy with the struggle of holding herself steady while also wanting to surrender completely. Each small movement, each slight change in weight or angle, sent sparks through her body, and the pounding of her heart felt almost loud enough to drown out the world. Her pulse raced with every brush of skin, every shiver that ran from the tips of her fingers down her spine. She shook with the force of it, losing all strength as she slumped to the side, collapsing onto the bed with ragged breaths.
Livia met Marco’s eyes and raised her brows in silent question. He gave a quick nod. She climbed onto him, straddling his hips, and guided his cock into herself. The first slide made her gasp. She rode him slowly at first, leaning forward until her body was pressed to his chest. Her lips found his, and she kissed him deeply while rolling her hips.
They moaned together, each sound vibrating between them, mingling with the heat and tension that had built to a fever pitch. Her breath caught sharply as she nipped his lower lip, and a thrill shot through her, sparking fire along her spine. His hips pressed with urgent rhythm against her, but she held him, teasing and controlling the pace, every touch stoking the mounting ache inside her.
A guttural groan tore from him, raw and ragged, and she could feel the pulse of his tension through every nerve in her body. Her own pleasure roared to life in response, washing over her in an overwhelming tide of warmth and trembling shivers. Her muscles clenched and released with each wave, and her breath came in ragged gasps, mingling with his strained cries.
Heat and shivering energy radiated between them, raw and consuming, as she felt him climax beneath her. The sudden, pulsing surge of his release made her heart race, her own body trembling with aftershocks that left her dizzy and breathless. Every tremor, every gasp, every whispered moan bound them together in the intensity of the moment, leaving them flushed, trembling, and suspended in the shared fire of their climax.
“Shit,” Marco panted, chest rising and falling. “I tried to stop you.”
“Did you… Did you cum in her?” Chiara asked, her voice tinged with nervousness.
“Yes,” he groaned.
Livia slid off him and curled against his side, still flushed and catching her breath. “Relax, guys,” she said softly. “I’ve got an IUD. I won’t get pregnant.”
Marco let out a long sigh of relief, and Chiara nestled against his other side.
“That’s good. It would be hard to explain how a gay guy got you pregnant,” Chiara giggled.
“That would be an awkward conversation with her mom,” Marco chuckled. “She thought this trip was perfect because I wasn’t going to try to fuck either of you.”
“Guess she didn’t think we’d fuck you instead,” Livia teased, nuzzling his shoulder.
“Yeah, what kind of sluts seduce a gay guy?” he said with a playful grin.
“The kind that are hot enough to succeed,” Chiara shot back.
She sat up, leaned over his cock, and pressed a kiss to the tip before taking him into her mouth, sucking slowly, cleaning away both Livia’s and his release. Marco groaned, his head dropping back, while Livia pressed gentle kisses to his shoulder.
“Ready for round two?” Livia teased.
“I thought you were round two,” he said, breathless, just as Chiara climbed back onto his lap.
With one slow push, she slid his stiff cock inside her again. A moan spilled from her lips as she settled fully onto him.
“Then this must be round three,” Chiara gasped, starting to ride him once more.
By day, Italy seduced them with its easy beauty. They wandered ancient streets, kissed under sudden bursts of rain, and fed each other bites of pasta across tiny café tables. They climbed towers until their legs ached, then tumbled back down again only to reward themselves with wine and gelato. To anyone else, they were just friends on holiday, sun-touched and smiling.
But by night, the hotel room told another story. It became their private stage, their confessional, their playground. Clothes fell away almost as soon as the door clicked shut. Sometimes their laughter came first, sometimes moans. Often it was both at once, tangled together as surely as their bodies. The bed creaked, the fan hummed uselessly overhead, and their pleasure filled the dark until dawn spilled across the balcony.
On one hot night, they moved their play to that balcony. Only realizing when they had finished that they had attracted an audience of admirers. They gave themselves over to it again and again, until none of them could keep track of how many times they’d come or whose turn it had been last.
One night, Marco brought a man back from a crowded bar. He was taller, broader, with a careless smile and a curious spark in his eyes. At first, he seemed unsure what he’d walked into. He kissed Marco, eager and certain, but the girls watched with hungry grins. Chiara was the first to act. She leaned in, pressed a teasing kiss to his bare shoulder, then a second near his throat. Livia slid to his other side, her hand grazing his chest, her lips brushing his ear.
He froze, caught between surprise and temptation. Chiara’s giggle was low and wicked. “Relax,” she whispered, her mouth tracing lower. “We’re not here to take anything away, and you can say no if you prefer only men."
It didn’t take long before his resistance burned off. Soon he was lost in them, surrounded on every side by eager hands and warm mouths. Marco’s laughter mixed with the girls’ moans, and the room turned fever-hot, all four of them colliding in a rhythm that had no rules except more.
After that, he returned. Not every night, but often enough. Sometimes Marco brought him deliberately, and sometimes he appeared on his own, as if drawn back by a craving he couldn’t name. Each time, the four of them gave in with less hesitation, less restraint. The girls teased him as easily as they teased Marco, and he surrendered to them with a kind of desperate gratitude. They kept nothing back. Every kiss, every gasp, every climax was shared until they collapsed together in a slick, shuddering pile.
By the end of the trip, the pattern was as natural as breathing. Days spent in the sun, chasing beauty across Italy. Nights spent in tangled sheets, chasing something far more primal. They laughed until their voices went hoarse, moaned until the neighbors banged on the wall, and loved until the lines between friendship, lust, and something deeper no longer mattered. Italy gave them art, wine, and endless skies, but what they would never forget was the heat of those nights. The taste of each other, the shameless hunger, the impossible thrill of never wanting it to end.
When they returned home, the warmth of their vacation lingered, coloring every memory of sunlit streets and quiet hotel rooms. Livia and Chiara found themselves drawn to each other in ways they had not anticipated, exploring their feelings and desires with a newfound openness. Over time, they began dating, discovering that their connection was as much emotional as it was physical. In the process, they came to fully embrace their bisexuality.
Marco remained a cherished part of their lives, a friend and occasional companion. Though he sometimes joined them, his own attractions guided him, and he was present only when he wasn't with a man. Even so, his laughter, teasing, and easy camaraderie continued to weave into the fabric of their relationship, a reminder of the playful, boundary-pushing adventures they had shared.