StumblingFillies

 The following precedes  https://stumblingfillies.blogspot.com/2022/07/jussa-seconn.html  and  https://stumblingfillies.blogspot.com/2023/07/jussa-seconn-2.html The evening had started with a spark of excitement. You and your girlfriend, Tara, had been planning this dinner for some time. It was a rare night where neither of you had work, errands, or obligations—a chance to dress up, indulge, and just be together. Tara had spent the afternoon primping, sipping wine, her excitement palpable as she slipped into that little black dress that hugged her curves just right. You’d caught her twirling in front of the mirror, grinning at her reflection, and you couldn’t help but whistle. “Damn, Tits,” you teased, using the nickname that always made her giggle. She’d playfully swatted your arm, her cheeks flushing. “You’re gonna have to behave tonight,” she said, pointing a manicured finger at you, though her smirk suggested she didn’t mind your antics one bit. The restaurant wa...

  It was July 25, 2025—a Saturday so sweltering the air felt like a lover’s breath, thick and damp, pressing against every inch of exposed skin. Humidity hung heavy, a sultry shroud that plastered hair to necks, turned flesh slick with sweat, and made clothes cling like a second skin before the sun even crested noon. Jules had hatched the idea a few days after the Fourth, her voice a husky crackle over breakfast as she’d slammed her coffee mug down: “Christmas in July, bitches—why wait for December to get trashed and festive?” The backyard still bore the battle scars of their Independence Day rager—faint scorch marks from errant sparklers seared into the patio concrete, a lawn chair dented and crumpled from Tessa’s drunken tumble—now transformed with a reckless holiday twist. A string of dollar-store Christmas lights flickered feebly around the pool, their red and green bulbs buzzing like tired fireflies, half of them winking out in the heat. A plastic Santa hat floated mournfully ...

Part 1 & 2   https://stumblingfillies.blogspot.com/2023/07/vera-in-hotel-office-part-1-and-2.html Part 3 https://stumblingfillies.blogspot.com/2024/07/vera-3.html   Vera Part 4: Vi, or Flea as she liked to be called, was nervous about attending the trade conference. She’d just graduated college with a degree in hospitality. So far since graduating, she had not found a job that was better than minimum wage. And with large student loans, she needed to find something better. So the other day when she’d overheard someone at the hotel say there was a trade conference, today, she’d decided to attend. Registering had been simple enough, she was able to use her student ID and register for free. However, she hadn’t been able to find much info about the conference itself, just a dress code, business sexy.  The young blonde didn’t really know what that meant. However, she knew from experience, the best way for her to dress sexy was to drink. So even though it was early mornin...

  The three girls—Alex, Sasha, and Grace—were buzzing with anticipation as they gathered in Alex’s apartment, the late afternoon sun slanting through the blinds. Tonight was the biggest party of the summer, a chaotic mash-up celebrating the third anniversary of the Stumbling Fillies, the sixteenth of Stanmaps, and the twenty-fifth of Dunsel. The air smelled of fresh laundry and Alex’s vanilla candle, a calm before the storm. “Okay, let’s keep it chill while we get ready,” Grace said, adjusting her glasses as she perched on the edge of the bed, her voice steady. “No disasters before we even leave.” The vibe shifted when Alex spotted a bottle of red wine on the counter. “Oh, come on, we need a toast,” she said, pouring it into mismatched glasses. “To epic nights!” Sasha clinked her dlasses against Alex’s. “To epic fights,” she added with a smirk. Grace joined in, cautious but game. “To surviving,” she said softly. One toast became two, then three, the bong gurgling and the pipe glowi...

  The Fourth of July sun blazed over your backyard, the air thick with heat, grill smoke, and the promise of chaos. The barbecue was in full swing—burgers sizzling, a cooler stocked with beer, and a table groaning under bottles of tequila, vodka, and mixers you’d set up for the occasion. Claire, Jules, and Tessa had been planning this since their Juneteenth swimsuit spree, and they’d pulled out all the stops. Jules had invited her college friend, Riley, and Tessa had brought Simone from Edge & Elegance. All five women were determined to make this a night of epic, drunken revelry and sex. Claire strutted out first, rocking the red one-piece with the plunging neckline from Victoria’s Secret. She’d thrown a sheer white cover-up over it, the fabric clinging to her curves, her dark hair loose and wavy. She’d started the day with a vodka cranberry, her green eyes already bright with a pre-party buzz. “This is gonna be a mess,” she said, grinning at you as she adjusted the grill, her ...