Winona made herself small in the corner of her corner booth, swallowing thickly and willing herself to look away from the bar. It wasn't her night. It wasn't her week. Hell, it wasn't her
month
. Her friends took her out to celebrate her 'independence' from Peter.
They all knew that Winona was sad about the break-up. They all knew Winona had tried, and failed, to mend things with him. Even so, they urged her to 'recontextualize' what their break-up meant, whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. Everyone in their little circle of twenty-something ladies showed up.
Besides Veronica, but that wasn't surprising. Winona and Veronica mixed like fire, water and a heap of spilled oil, which is to say usually 'not great' and more rarely 'fiery and terrible'.
The night out didn't work. She stayed behind after they all left for one more drink, considering it her nightcap... and then Peter walked in. They had picked
this
particular bar because it was well away from Peter's usual stomping grounds. He didn't notice her, but Winona couldn't take her eyes off him.
She watched him do one shot, and then another, and ordered herself another drink. With all the liquid courage in her belly, she wanted to get up, go over and try again. She was
going
to get up, go over and try again, but then a woman sat down next to Peter.
Winona had recognized the dolled-up beautiful blonde immediately. That was when she made herself as small and as unnoticeable as she could. Why was Veronica here, and why was she smiling at Peter that way? Why was she touching his arm and leaning in so close to her boyfriend--
no, my ex,
Winona had to remind herself.
She ordered herself another drink.
And when that drink was done, she ordered herself a soda instead. Petite in every way that mattered, Winona knew she was at her hard limit for alcohol. She already felt on the verge of tears watching her ex flirt with Veronica -- fucking Veronica. Veronica was
almost
everything Winona herself wasn't.
Where Winona was short, Veronica was tall. People called Winona fun-sized, but they called Veronica a supermodel. Where Winona had a farmer's tan, Veronica was just the
perfect
fair shade. And where Winona had long, wavy dark hair, Veronica had perfectly straight blonde hair.
Naturally, it followed that Veronica had strikingly icy blue eyes and Winona had plain brown eyes. They were both slender -- but with her height, Veronica made it work so much better than Winona could. Where Winona was regularly mistaken for a boy with her flat chest, Veronica managed to use hers to her advantage. She knew how to make it work. She could make anything work.
Winona had always been jealous of how she could do that.
How long had she known Veronica? Winona grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her eyes, not wanting to cry while still not trusting herself to uncurl from her little ball. Almost her entire life; their birthdays were just days apart. Their mothers were friends before they were born, and up until they were eight they shared
every single birthday party
. It had become clear before their ninth birthdays that the two girls didn't exactly love one another.
Their mothers stopped that. Still made them go to each other's birthday parties, almost always back to back. Veronica's parties were always a touch bigger and just that little bit more extravagant. Now that she was dwelling on it, Winona couldn't even remember a time where she
wasn't
jealous or resentful of Veronica.
She balled up her napkin and dropped it on the booth's table, then sneaked another glance at the bar. Neither Peter nor Veronica were there any longer, but from the corner of her eye Winona could see the former disappear into the women's washroom. She had to do a double take on the sign to be sure of that. Had he wandered into the wrong washroom by accident?
Part of Winona knew she should just stay in her little corner, or go pay her tab and sneak out while Peter was behind a closed door. The part of Winona that was still madly in love? That part of Winona, intoxicated as it was, was mortified for Peter's sake. She couldn't let him make a fool of himself. She had to protect him from his own lovable stupidity. That was the part of Winona that cared the most, and that was the part that won the day. She got out of her seat and approached the door.
A bad feeling struck Winona and gave her pause, but then she swallowed it down, threw caution to the wind and opened the door. She expected to see her big old doofus of an ex drunkenly looking for a urinal, or maybe trying to use the sink as one in confusion. Instead, she saw -- nothing. Was she the only one in the washroom?
No, she wasn't. One of the bathroom stalls had its door closed. Had Peter found his way in there? That was good. He loved to go for the sink when he was drunk for whatever reason. Something told Winona to leave. She didn't. Fighting her better judgment, fighting what she suspected, Winona went into the stall beside the stall and put her ear to the wall.
"Mm... mm.. Mm.. haaa, not bad at all," Veronica laughed breathlessly between her moans and the softer, wetter noises her mouth made. Winona felt her own mouth go dry. Was she... she couldn't be sucking Peter's cock, could she? She heard a grunt chase those moans, more masculine, but it didn't sound anything like her boyfriend Peter.
My ex-boyfriend,
Winona reminded herself, knowing she NEEDED to leave at this point. Instead, finding her hand far more steady than it had any right to be, she took out her phone and flicked the camera to selfie mode. She got down on her knees and slipped it
just
between the two stalls, staring down at what her camera saw.
There Peter was, belt off and jeans unbuttoned. And there Veronica was, popping her pretty little mouth off his cock and grabbing his wet rod in one of her elegant hands. She curved her whorish red lips in a smile at him, meeting his eyes -- Winona couldn't see Peter's face from her phone's angle. Then she did what Winona was always afraid to do, as much as Peter wanted her to try it.
Winona's mouth gaped in horror as she watched Veronica take one of Peter's nuts into her mouth, her other hand briskly jacking his slick cock off. It was aimed up and towards her, in a way she could never muster the courage to do. As silly as it was, Winona was always afraid of a surprise spray of hot white cum hitting her face and getting in her eye or her hair. The few times she gave Peter a handjob, she tried to point it away from her the whole time.
She swallowed thickly, then tugged her phone back towards her and fell back to her ass. Was this really happening? Winona couldn't believe it. Was Veronica really sucking her boyfriend's dick less than a meter away? It had to be a dream. She pressed her back against the stall's wall and stared at the one opposite of her, shocked into stillness and silence.
Winona could only see Peter's shoes, Veronica's knees and her ballerina flats, but her mind filled in the blanks based on what she could hear as though she had X-ray vision. And she'd never forget what Peter sounded like as he got progressively and closer to blasting his load. Veronica laughed again as she freed his nutsack from her mouth, audibly slapping her cheek with the head of his dick. "Feel as good as you imagined, baby?" she purred softly in her soft accent before pressing a worshipful kiss to its tip.
For Peter's ears only, not her. Winona was intruding, she was spying. She should have left, but she couldn't. Tears brimmed at her eyes. Much to her horror, it wasn't the only part of her body getting wet. Listening to Peter's grunts and hoarse breathing had always gotten her cunt downright sodden, and it was the only thing she really enjoyed about giving him blowjobs.
"Better," Peter groaned out. If he felt bad about getting his cock sucked by Winona's friend in a bar's washroom, she couldn't hear a hint of it in his voice. "I'm going to nut soon," he warned Veronica. Winona closed her eyes and squirmed her hips. She hadn't managed to get off since the last time she slept with Peter. Sex was always
so
special to her. This was the first time she had really been aroused since their split became permanent. In her intoxicated state, she couldn't ignore her body's needs.
Biting down hard on her bottom lip, Winona slipped her hand into her leggings and under her panties, slipping two of her short-nailed fingers into her cunt while grinding the heel of her hand against her clit. She had to be quiet.
"Whenever you want and wherever you want," Veronica promised in a whisper. Winona kept a tissue or cup nearby whenever she sucked Peter's cock, either using the former to catch the cum or spitting it out right away. Was she really--?
"Yeah?" Peter's voice perked with excitement.
"Yeah," Veronica said, her grin audible in her voice. "Give me that hot cum, baby."
Winona was stunned by what she was hearing, though she felt stupid for it. When they started getting interested in boys, Veronica never put on prudish airs. She was always confident and extroverted, outgoing in both fashion and attitude. As an adult, she oozed sexuality.
"Fuck," Winona whispered, equally stunned by how
great
