Jenny woke up wrapped in a blanket on a couch, groggy and disoriented. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was, but then it all came flooding back.
After leaving the club, she and Lindsay had followed Hana for a couple blocks to an old apartment building, then up three flights of stairs. It took Hana a minute to get the door open, but when she did, they stepped through into a surprisingly spacious studio apartment. It was a little rundown but charming, with antique woodwork, ornate windows, and a skylight.
Jenny went immediately to pee and when she was done, she lingered in the bathroom doorway for a minute, peering around the corner at Lindsay and Hana. They were sitting on the couch, laughing and sipping from full-sized glasses of tequila. Their hair was a symphony of color — Lindsay's blue with newly added streaks of platinum, Hana's dark red and jet black.
"This is good stuff," said Lindsay, tipping back her glass.
"Yeah," said Hana. "Smooth."
Jenny herself was a little drunk and extremely horny, which combined to make her feel reckless and bold. She decided that, rather than wait to be told what to do, she would take the initiative; she would act like the wanton slut that Lindsay had advertised her to be. And so when she came out of the bathroom and started walking toward the couch, she was stark naked.
Lindsay and Hana went silent and both sets of eyes followed Jenny as she approached them. She walked tall and proud, feeling sexy and audacious and free. Without a moment's hesitation she plopped down in Hana's lap.
Raising an eyebrow, Hana gave Lindsay a look that roughly translated as "You weren't kidding, were you?" And then she and Jenny were kissing, two pairs of soft lips melting together. Hana wrapped one arm around Jenny's waist while the other reached out to feel and squeeze the younger girl's breasts. Jenny shuddered; it felt like months since she had been touched, though it reality it had been only a few days.