A temptress sat in the consuite. A black corset embraced her monumental bosom. Red hair framed a face twisted into querulous expression. Eyes, two different shades of gray, rested at half-mast.

She had staggered in on spike heels, tall tropical drink in hand, muttering about 'fucking bones' and 'stood up' and other words Amy couldn't make out.

Amy had been watching her for half an hour, ignoring the other women in the room. They've been talking about The Sentinel, and Alien Nation, and some other TV shows Amy was pretty sure were canceled before she was born.

"Hey, kid, you want a shot of something?" Amy turned to look at a teensy blonde with pink glasses. The blonde smiled in Amy's direction and pointed at a box of bottles on the floor. "Tequila, gin, Bailey's, rum, margarita, beer?"

Amy looked behind her, saw no one. She started to stand.

A black woman with dreads and glasses and monkey slippers dashed in front of her. "Tracy! Hit me with a shot of Bailey's!"

"WitchQueen!" The blonde stood up and held out her arms. "It's been too long!"

"Last Connexions, so I guess it has been a year. Oh, I changed my name. I am now the great and powerful Zvi!"

The two women hugged, and Amy looked away. The redhead sprawled in a chair, glass resting on her breasts. Amy couldn't believe she could show so much skin but no nipples.

Red got up, tottered on spike heels to the alcohol. "Are you sharing? Can I get Bailey's?"

"Sure thing, honey." Tracy bent over her box of booze.

Zvi licked her lips and circled the two women. "Nice corset. Where'd you get it?"

Red smiled crookedly. "Gift from a friend. She was supposed to meet me this weekend." Red pouted. "But she broke her foot and I'm all alone."

Tracy sat up with a bottle and a cup. "I don't think I should try to hold and pour at the same time. I am just the wee littlest bit tipsy." She nodded vigorously as Red took the cup from her.

Amy watched the liquid rush into the glass. It was a small cup, and it overflowed. "You're spilling that."

Tracy giggled. "Oh my. What have I done?" She grabbed some napkins and began wiping up the leather boots.

The redhead lapped up spilled Bailey's from her hand and said, "If you'd been watching the drink and not my tits, that wouldn't have happened."

"Nice shoes. Wanna fuck?" Zvi stage whispered.

The redhead turned her head, looked Zvi up and down. "Are you serious?"

Zvi poked out her bottom lip and shrugged. "I'd love to, but I've already got a date, and it would be rude to just bring you along. Otherwise, I totally would, because boobies, man! But, you know."

Red sniffed. Then she bent down to where Tracy was still wiping her boots. "What about you, hon? You wanna fuck."

Tracy chuckled and nodded. But she said, "I think I can't though. Because, um, there's this thing?"

Zvi snorted. "Because you're married, Tracy. And if you can't remember that, it's probably time to put you to bed."

"Probably," said Tracy. She struggled to her feet, wobbling to a stand.

Red draped herself theatrically over Tracy's chair. "It's amazing how all the women who leer at me don't want to actually touch me."

Zvi shrugged as she picked up the booze. "Sweetie, you're hot business. We've just got prior commitments."

The temptress sighed, fluttered her eyes, and inhaled, but she looked away and didn't say a word.

"Kisses for the road?" asked Zvi.

The redhead snorted. "I'd rather have the Bailey's."

"Tracy, can she have your Bailey's?"

Tracy giggled. "Sure. For a kiss."

Red pulled Tracy down into a half-crouch over her body and pressed her open lips to Tracy's giggling mouth. She shoved Tracy to an unsteady vertical and held her hand out towards Zvi.

The black woman rolled her eyes, but she handed over the booze, grabbed Tracy by one arm, and left.

Red looked around the room. Amy looked away, not wanting to be caught staring. No one else was in the room, and the TV in the corner was playing vids for an old fandom Amy didn't recognize. When she looked back, the older woman was staring at her. Amy tried to use her best anime eyes and said, "You, uh, you should take off your boots before you break your neck." She immediately regretted what was probably the least smooth opening line in the face of the universe and looked at her lap.

"You're. Not. Drunk."

"Uh, no?" Amy huddled further into her chair, but looked back up at the redhead.

"You don't get to play if you're sober. Come here. I have to spike your drink."

Amy looked at her silently. She did sort of want to get to know the redheaded goddess, but just how drunk was this chick?

She decided to take a chance and walked over. Amy placed her can of Coke next to Red and sat at her feet. "Give me your feet. You're gonna kill yourself in those shoes."

Red lifted her left foot, and Amy took it in her hands. Amy jumped a little when Red's right foot ended up in her crotch. The foot lined up exactly with the seam of Amy's jeans.

Amy raised her eyebrows. Red smiled but kept silent.

Amy shrugged and bent her head over the boot. Thin, black laces criss-crossed all the way up to the knee, but Amy couldn't find the knot. She ran her fingers lightly over the threads, skimming the flesh below.

The foot, the heel, in her crotch pressed forward and up, and Amy drew in a sharp breath. She looked up and Red was grinning crookedly. "Sorry, kid. I like the sensation, but you might want to press a little harder. Light touch gives me the shivers."

Amy shrugged and bent forward again. She found the knot, in the hollow of the knee, and tugged it loose. This leg was easier to undo.

Amy ran her hands up and down Red's legs. They were nice, soft and smooth and fleshy. She wanted to lick them.

Red stood up first, one foot to either side of Amy's thighs. She bent down and pulled Amy up, squeezed tight against her body and kissed her. She tasted sweet and sticky from the Bailey's, but she tasted good under that. Amy couldn't think how to describe the taste, except the temptress tasted like a person who tastes good. Retarded but true.

Red's hands were as good as her mouth, running over Amy's back, dancing along the spine. She squeezed Amy's ass but not too hard.

Amy moaned and bit at Red's lower lip. Not so much bit as grazed, catching the lip between her teeth and then letting it go.

She bit down hard enough to draw blood when a voice behind her breathed, "Frell."

Red had jerked, startled, at the noise, but she smashed her head foreward when she was bitten. The two of them tried to stagger apart, but they were standing too close for that. They fell in a heap together.

"A woman takes ten minutes to go pee—ten minutes—and comes back to find an orgy." Amy looked behind her; a dark-haired woman with a bright red Helper dot on her con badge is laughing at them.

Red sighed and started talking in a voice that wasn't fuzzy and soft at all, not at all the way she'd been talking to Amy. "Laura? That's your name right. We—."

"No, don't tell me." Laura raised one hand, palm out, but she started walking towards them at the same time. "I don't want to know what lewd and lascivious hijinks drove Zvi and Tracy from the room."

Amy blushed and bent her head, looked up through her lashes at the older woman on whose lap she balanced poorly.

Red rolled her eyes. "Don't be a bitch, just help us up and we'll go to my room. Jesus."

Between Red's shoving and Laura's pulling, Amy got to her feet. Then she and Laura helped Red up and out the door.

The walk to Red's room was uncomfortable. Not emotionally, but physically, because Amy was half-carrying her, and Red was short but not tiny.

They stumbled into Red's bedroom, and Amy shoved her towards the bed, slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, breathing hard.

She looked around the room, and it was together, but not like a maid had been there. The door to the bathroom was closed, and a closed suitcase, t-shirt and jeans folded over it, stood next the chest of drawers. There was a whip coiled next to the TV, with handcuffs and dark fabric in the center. Amy swallowed hard and looked at the desk; bags of merchandise, what looked like zines and t-shirts and maybe video tapes, were piled on top.

She looked back at the bed, and the redhead had posed herself, long, black skirt hiked up to her knees and her arms braced so her tits thrust proudly forward. She gestured with her chin at Amy. "Come over here, girl. I can't touch you all the way across the room."

"I." Amy looked down, shook her head. "Are you sure? You're sort of drunk. And I'm not so much. So, you know, potential bad. I don't even know your name."

"Minim." The sound rolled off her tongue and Amy shivered. "My name is Minim. You tell me your name, and we'll be properly introduced, and we can fuck."

Amy whispered her name, but she didn't move.

"Come here, Amy. I saw you." Minim placed a hand to her breasts. "I saw you looking at these. I know you want to touch them."

Amy stood up a little straighter.

"You want to touch them with your hands? You want to lick them, suck on them?" Minim rubbed her finger across her breasts. "Come on, Amy. Come on over."

Amy took a step forward, then stopped. "I should go. It's late and I never met you before. You don't really want me here. And. Well, I." She shrugged, started to leave.

Minim's laughter stopped her, brought her back. "You think I don't want you?" Minim laughed more, louder. "You really think I would have pulled just anyone back to my hotel room?"

Amy shrugged. No good way to admit she thought Minim was a drunken slut.

"Oh, you do! You do!" Minim lay flat on her back, cackling. "Don't think very highly of yourself, do you?" She sat up. "No, really. Come here, and I'll tell you why I want you, specifically."

Amy walked over, crawled onto the bed, onto Minim's lap. "You're drunk and looking for a good time, okay. You don't have to say I'm so beautiful you can't help yourself or something lame. I'm not low-self-esteem!Xander and you're not Romantic!Spike. But you taste good, and you're not too pushy, and," she put her hand down Minim's front, "I do like these."

Minim opened her mouth, but Amy kissed her. Amy's lips were closed and Minim sucked at them, nipped them. She bit too hard, and Amy pulled back, tugged at the corset. "How do we get this off?"

Minim looked at her for a long moment. Amy looked back, let her eyes show her hunger, thought hard about licking, sucking, stroking, and wet, hot, soft, furry.

Minim picked up Amy's hand, pushed it down a few inches to the top of the corset. "Pull my strings."

Amy did as instructed. Topless, Minim tugged at Amy's shirt. "I want to touch you, too."

Amy decided to go all the way and strip down. Panties, bra, jeans, and t-shirt landed on the floor next to the bed.

"Oh. Nicer than I thought," said Minim. She ran a hand over Amy's tummy, down to the bush.

Amy tightened in reaction, muscles contracting in her belly and lower. When Minim pushed her shoulders, she scooted backwards until her head was on the pillow.

Minim kissed her again, on her neck, on her shoulders, her hands. Amy closed her eyes and let the feelings wash over her, soft, dry brushes from this beautiful older woman's lips.

She put her hand in Minim's hair, petted her then pushed her lower. Minim went down, pressed a kiss to her pussy. Amy felt herself opening and melting.

But Minim didn't move, didn't lick, didn't suck, didn't use her fingers to stroke in or on or around anything. Amy finally sat up. "What are you waiting for?" She ran her fingers through Minim's hair. "Hello? Are you awake?" She poked Minim's side. "Dude, seriously, what's up? Please don't have had a heart attack. The amount that would suck is incredibly hard. Shit. Say something!"

Silence.

Amy slid off the bed and stood next to Minim's head. She leaned down to listen. "Oh, thank god!" Minim was still breathing. Amy checked for a pulse and it was still going strong.

Amy wasn't sure what to do. Minim hadn't vomited yet, but she'd passed out drunk. Vomiting seemed like a possibility.

So, she couldn't leave Minim alone. She couldn't go to sleep. She could begin a life of crime. "Okay, look, I'm not stealing your stuff. But it's only midnight, and I bet you're going to get a full eight hours' sleep. So, I need drugs. Here's hoping you have some."

Amy went through Minim's bags and came up with porn, zines, chocolate, Red Bull, a mini coffeepot with ground coffee, and most exciting, Starbucks Doubleshot.

She put a trash can on Minim's side of the bed, pulled Minim's skirt off and picked her own clothes up, folded them neatly and put them on the chest of drawers. Then Amy grabbed a zine, pulled the comforter over herself and Minim, and settled in for a long night.

A baby lay in Minim's bed. A brown pony tail and a sweet, round body jiggled and twitched in place, woke Minim up. The kid had espresso in one hand and familiar porn in the other.

"Who the fuck are you?" Minim growled.

The girl fell out of bed. "Uh, nobody really." She popped right back up, and ran for the chest of drawers. "It's just, you, uh, you passed out last night." She yanked on a pair of jeans. "I was afraid you'd choke on your own vomit, so I drank some of your coffee." She ran to the door and put on a shirt. "Bye." And she left.