It was going to be a good day—and Sonata was thinking that when it’d been, like, a whole week since she sucked any dick, so that thought was nice and big weighty. Kind of like her boobs, which she’d been playing with all night, squirming on her bed in just her panties. She hadn’t touched her pussy once, though, even though she was dreaming of all kinds of fat, juicy cocks to stuff it with. She really wanted to hold out until she had a real one in front of her.
Because, as Adagio was explaining—on mostly deaf ears, because wow her legs looked scrumptious in that skirt—it was Hearts and Hooves Day, and that meant there was a lot of fun to ruin.
Aria was there too, looking bored, like she was trying to pretend she wasn’t a massive slut, but Sonata wasn’t fooled. That was definitely an “I’m so bored kill me now but actually I’m secretly dreaming of being spitroasted” kind of look on her face.
“… dating couples are fair game, as long as they’re serious. The point is to make people compromise an investment.” Dagi had a nice clear, crisp voice while she ran through the rules, and it just made Sonata want to throw her on a table and tear her clothes off, but she was a good girl and kept her hands to herself. “We’ll meet back here at eight pm sharp,” Adagio added, checking the time with a clock on the wall. “That gives us twelve hours or so.”
Adagio kept talking, but Sonata sort of tuned her out a bit, ‘cause she was trying to picture how big a box twelve hours was and how many dicks could fit in something that big. She got as far as “A very good number” and then lost focus.
“… obviously we’re not going to be with each other all the time, so we’re using an honor system. Any questions?”
Sonata wondered about asking something, to show how she’d definitely been paying attention and doing the thinkythings and stuff, but realized that’d make it take longer, so she shut up.
“Alright then. Let’s go wreck some homes, girls.”
A grin spread wide across Sonata’s face.
It was going to be a gooooooooood day.
Aria always had loved MILF. There was just something about the way a woman a certain age jiggled, a roundness that made Aria’s physique seem all the more unyielding by contrast. So finding a MILF who had a nice big cock to play with? That was a rare treat.
It really didn’t hurt that this particular MILF was a bit of a sex maniac, too, Aria grinned as she lay back and took her desired pummeling. All it had taken was a lingering touch on an arm here, a cheeky leer there, and—bam!—her pussy was hugging a fat shaft and reaping the rewards.
“Oh yes, it’s always good to try before you buy,” Twilight Velvet panted. Aria would have facepalmed if her hands hadn’t been overflowing with really good tits. The only downside with meeting people through posing as a door-to-door fleshlight saleswoman was the increased likelihood of them then spouting bad porn dialogue during sex.
Another time, Aria might have tried thinking up some quip about the wisdom of sometimes going for the display model, but she couldn’t quite figure out how to phrase it without suggesting her cunt was cheaper, used and damaged B-stock. Normally she could have. But Velvet really fucking knew what she was doing, and Aria was only a minute or so from cumming, so whatever.
No, less than a minute, a familiar spasm told her, and she lifted her hips so Velvet could hit that sweet deeper angle. She held herself there, eyes rolling back until she came in torrents. And once she’d pulled herself back together, she drew back and flipped herself around, stuffing that plump cock into her mouth. Aria might not have been on a timeframe to be ridden into the ground, but expertise like Velvet’s had to be rewarded or it would die out.
And there was something cheeky and fun about her too, even when fucking, like the rest of the world was missing a joke in taking it seriously. Which made Aria smile inside while swallowing her cum.
Willpower was something Adagio had in no short supply, but it still took a fair bit of it not to sigh as she slipped her hand into his waistband and closed her cold fingers around his member. It was already hardening, just as expected, and he was too frozen in place to pull away.
Men were just so easy. There was no skill to it, no need for planning or tailoring an approach. They made seducing them a function, rather than an art. She breathed into his ear as she squeezed his package, then trailed a delicate finger down its length. At least it was passable on that front.
As she unbuttoned his jeans with her other hand, she cast her eyes over the photos hanging on the hallway walls. Those were the things she might have had to take note of when seducing a woman, picking up details of the girly pink wife or girlfriend, or the nerdy purple girl who was obviously a younger sister. Anything that could be exploited, perhaps appealing to a secret, taboo desire by showing up in a tight school uniform and thick-rimmed glasses, or going the other way and appearing as the leather-clad dominatrix his simpering partner could never be. But with men…
Adagio deftly tugged his jeans and underwear down in one move as she sank to her knees, stretching out a leg behind her to kick the front door closed. She had his tip in her mouth before she even reached the floor, suckling it with increasing intensity until it was just slightly too much for him to take.
Then she performed her favourite magic trick and made his whole length disappear into her throat without any warning or warm-up. He gasped, of course, and then moaned. But would he have the common decency to give her face a thorough fucking? She doubted it, he’d been nothing but passive so far. But she’d wait and see. She could always just fuck off halfway through, if he really failed to step up to the mark. There was always the chance the next man would do better…
“Uh, hi there,” Aria said, bending down to peer in the car window. “Sorry, I was hoping you could give me some directions?” The skirt she’d chosen for the day’s events hardly covered her ass in that pose, but the driver gave a kind smile beneath his moustache and pretended not to have been staring.
“Certainly, miss, where’re you trying to get to?”
Yep, definitely a family car, from the personal items here and there. And the hand on the steering wheel bore a wedding ring. “I’m looking for your cock in my mouth.”
He blinked, like he obviously couldn’t have heard it right.
“I want to feel it hit the back of my throat and keep going,” she confirmed. Pointed to a spot on her windpipe and added “right here.”
Two minutes later, she’d very much reached her destination, the car parked in a side alley and she with her head in his lap. He’d been offering some half-assed protest about having a daughter her age so she just pushed through, unzipping his fly, and going straight for the important part with her mouth, and now his only preoccupation was winding the seat back to give her more room to work.
Not that she needed it. That should have been apparent. But then he’d also misjudged her age, and that she’d prefer a hand playing with her hair to one grabbing her tits.
Still, his dick wasn’t bad, and he quickly learned to keep his mouth shut, so she couldn’t really complain.
Another two minutes, and she was striding away without looking back, while he watched like he still had no idea what had just happened. She probably shouldn’t have had him cum all over her face like that, but at least a family car always contained a packet of tissues, so indulging herself hadn’t turned out too badly. And it would have provided a perfect mental image to haunt him for the rest of his marriage!
It hadn’t been long since she’d gotten sick of the last one, and already Adagio knew she didn’t miss him. Part of that was that he wasn’t anywhere near her, but mostly, it was that she’d nestled between a different pair of thighs, and already she liked these quite a bit more.
They were smoother, for one. Smelled better, for another.
Naturally, men being as easy as they were, Adagio couldn’t spend her whole day with them. She wouldn’t be breaking any rules, but she’d be betraying herself, on a certain level. Indulging herself on another, sure, but still.
Fortunately for her, opportunities presented themselves.
Octavia was sitting by herself in the loneliest corner of a quite café. That alone had been a thought-provoking sight, but when her face sat right in the middle of frustration and anger, Adagio couldn’t help but slink on over.
It turned out, Octavia revealed after pleasantries were exchanged, that her date had to cancel on her. Vinyl was quite dependable, she said, but something had come up—and of course, Adagio’s ear was nothing but sympathetic. Because that was something of a disaster, and they both knew it—or one of them did and the other was willing to pretend, anyway.
“Maybe I could keep you company instead,” Adagio had said.
They were sitting in a booth, Octavia’s side facing the café’s entrance. Her legs, then, were covered by the table, provided someone wasn’t quite close. How convenient. And she was wearing a skirt—also convenient.
“Don’t worry,” Adagio said when Octavia voiced some discomfort—in that tone of voice that said she’d gotten off to the idea before, and was just anxious about making it a reality. “Nobody’ll notice.”
Probably, she added, but she forgot to say that part out loud. Oh well.
She was pretty sure Octavia forgot about that part fairly soon as well. Sure, she made a few nervous glances at first, and kept her eyes roaming and vigilant, but a few touches on her thighs, a little pressure to push them apart and make space, and her attention tended forwards and downwards.
That changed when her panties were being coaxed down, but by the time Adagio spread her lips and went to work with her tongue, Octavia couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere but between her legs. Her teeth gripped her bottom lip tightly, her hand poised to muffle if she cried out.
Which she did, of course. Adagio wasn’t an amateur.
“See?” Adagio said as she slipped out from under the table. “Nobody noticed. We’re fine.”
Octavia seemed too jittery to do much but nod quietly, so Adagio moved over and gave her a quick kiss, right on the lips. Something to remember.
The jackhammering into Aria’s ass was ruthless, relentless, remorseless, and, above all else, worth it. It was worth the tenderness with which she’d sit for the next few days, with how it ran roughshod into her poor, stretched hole. It was worth the discomfort she’d endure next time she needed the bathroom, with how it battered aside anything in its way, apparently including half her internal organs. And it was worth the time lost indulging it for a third round, even if doing so cost Aria the contest.
But she was an adult, and supposed to be capable of putting mind over matter, so she couldn’t indulge herself. She had to at least try to justify it with some kind of excuse. If she risked losing on sheer numbers, she’d make up for it in audacity and go for bonus points that way. Just infidelity, like a box ticked on a form, wouldn’t do, not when she’d already deepthroated those particular marriage vows into insignificance.
So offering up her pussy, after she’d swallowed and licked her lips, had come at the price of fucking her in the family bed. It would take them months to get the smell out, with the amount of fluids they’d both spilled.
Pretty much wasted effort, given where things had gone from there. Who cared about smelling your husband fucking someone else, when you were tied up and forced to watch them go at it right in front of you? Aria grinned, even while grunting and groaning into the mattress. Her ass commanded a very high price.
Worth it, and they all knew it. None more so than the apple farmer as he bottomed out inside her, grip tightening on her hips, making her clench around him a last time. She felt him emptying his load into her ass, pumping his seed in, and she made a concerted effort to look his wife in her horrified eyes and wink.
Then Aria passed out for a while. She’d earned it.
On paper, Adagio’s plan had been ingenious. Rarity was the sort who loved to gossip—surely she, of all people, would know of all the promising budding romances out there, and could possibly be persuaded to point a few out, that Adagio might crush them under her irresistible heels.
Rarity, as it turned out, was somewhat harder to fool than that.
“You realize, darling,” she said, arms folded beneath her breasts as she stood in the doorway of her house, “that I couldn’t possibly let you get away with something like that?”
“Hmm.” Adagio tapped her chin thoughtfully, then shrugged. “No, I’m not convinced I do.”
“I see.” Rarity crept up to Adagio’s side, all demure and ladylike… at just the right angle that her crotch brushed Adagio’s hip and made the bulge down there all too noticeable for an instant. “In that case, I suppose I’ll just have to educate you.”
Adagio arched an eyebrow. “There’re more than a few hours left in the day.” She let her eyes snake downwards, drinking in the soft curves of Rarity’s breasts, hugged as they were by a tight shirt. “Do you really think you can keep me busy that long?”
Rarity slipped an arm around Adagio’s waist to pull her inside. Her grip quickly wandered downwards. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But that’s a question I think desperately needs to be answered.”
A chuckle spilled out from Adagio’s lips.
She really shouldn’t be going along with it, not when she had a deadline to keep.
But a quick grope was in order, to satisfy her curiosity, so she slipped her hand down the front of Rarity’s skirt. And Rarity decided it was only fair that she got to see some tits after a stunt like that, but obviously Adagio couldn’t let someone order her around...
So she dropped her skirt as well.
Honestly, it wasn’t like Aria had the self-control to not take time to enjoy herself. Going on a silly diversion, that was just keeping things fair. It was the good, sisterly thing to do.
And, since Adagio at that point was down to just panties and heels, Rarity—who was only human—didn’t have nearly enough patience to get them to a bed, so Adagio ended up seated on a couch while Rarity stood in front of her, skirt hoisted up and a thick, enticing cock swaying alluringly underneath.
“Well?” Rarity said, a regal eyebrow arched imperiously. “Surely you’ve seen enough of these it’s no mystery what comes next.”
“It’s different for everyone, really.” Adagio shuffled closer, reaching out to stroke Rarity’s shaft; it wasn’t at full mast, she guessed from the softness. She contrasted the tenderness of her touch with a veil of haughty disdain over her face. “I’d normally find something nice to say, but you’re not giving me much to work with down here.”
Rarity’s face hardly changed from its beatific grace, but there was a twitch in her lips and a twinkle in her eyes that said she’d relished the barb. “I could put it away, if you’d prefer.”
She said that, but the hand that wasn’t busy holding up her skirt threaded through Adagio’s hair and clenched into a tight grip. She rolled her hips forward and pulled Adagio’s head towards her, until there just wasn’t room for Adagio to not be stuffing her mouth. Adagio swallowed it all in one go, reaching so far down she could almost have kissed Rarity’s balls. Rarity sucked in a breath; her cock grew and stiffened in Adagio’s mouth, greedy to explore as deeply as it could go.
It was equal parts disappointing and satisfying, how quickly Rarity decided she wanted more than a mouth. Not unexpected, though, from the way her eyes had wandered while Adagio deepthroated her like she was half her length.
She dragged her cock out from Adagio’s lips—it was nice and slick and shiny, and Rarity evidently decided it was just too beautiful to cover up anymore, so she wriggled out of her skirt before crawling onto the couch and pushing Adagio onto her back.
And she’d just began to spread Adagio’s legs and slide a hand between them, leaning in to no doubt whisper something sexy, when the door flung open.
“You would not believe the day I—”
Rarity’s cheeks reached a paleness Adagio didn’t think could be natural. She froze in place, like she was too petrified to even look at… her father, Adagio guessed the mustachioed fellow in the doorway was.
With a sigh, Adagio made up for Rarity’s slacking by sliding her panties down herself, shuffling forward and guiding Rarity’s cock into her pussy. “Don’t mind me,” she said, letting out a loud moan as Rarity instinctively pushed deeper into her. “Watching’s free, pictures’re… seventy-five each sounds fair, I think?”
It did feel quite predatory, following a child home from school. But then, sirens were predators, so who cared? Aria did struggle to keep the wicked grin off her face, though, because it was the best plan she’d thought of all day.
Less of a plan, perhaps, and more a theory. An equation.
Child with unhappy home life = parents with unhappy sex life.
And that led to a pink-skinned girl with purple and white hair, walking home with her head bowed despite the way she scowled and snarled at anyone in her path. Aria watched her let herself into a big townhouse, the kind that said more ‘status symbol’ than ‘home,’ and plotted how to proceed.
A quick transaction leading a passing businesswoman into an alleyway, five minutes of Aria’s tongue, and she was all set with smart blouse, skirt, jacket and shoes. Then she strolled over to the house in question and rapped on the door.
“Yes?” The door swung open, revealing a woman with a face made for sitting on, already impatient. That could be a challenge.
But then Aria noticed the wine glass in the woman’s hand, and the rosiness in her cheeks, and revised her assessment. This would be a piece of piss.
“Good day, maam,” Aria nodded, with a professional smile, “I’m Cherry Pie, here to drop off the contracts for tomorrow’s 08:00 as arranged.”
There was a frown, but, while suspicion and anger lurked there, it appeared mostly flustered.
“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” she snapped.
Being a siren, Aria was perfectly capable of being believably uncertain and apologetic whenever the situation called for it. She just didn’t like to be. Still, she made the effort, because the clock was ticking, and this woman needed putting in her place. A place which was, unquestionably, jammed between Aria’s thighs and begging for Aria to gush all over her face yet again.
“...Sunny and Patience from Legal didn’t send a note that I’d be over?” Equestrian names really could not be easier to invent.
The woman shook her head, with a sour twist to her mouth. But then she murmured something under her breath, something only siren ears would have caught. “Perhaps he did mention something like that this morning…”
Aria covered her face with a palm, a gesture she couldn’t have been more at home with in-character or out, and coupled it with a sheepish laugh. “I swear, the Equestrian Postal Service is getting worse by the day.”
“Urgh, tell me about it,” the woman rolled her eyes, then threw back the rest of her wine. “Well, you’d better drop them off through here,” she said, inviting Aria in and leading her off down the hallway.
Nothing quite hampered Adagio’s ability to focus on a problem like having two cocks inside her at once. The issue was whether or not both halves of a couple screwing her concurrently still counted as cheating, and, if so, did it count once or twice? And the answer was that ohhhh fuck she didn’t care, just keep going, one glorious ivory cock filling her pussy while the other made itself at home in her ass.
She was a grain of sand being swirled around by ocean currents of ecstasy. A hand supported her under each raised thigh, her back pressed against a pillar of abs and stubble and the smell of cognac, while in front of her was a vision of rose hair and truly beautiful breasts, shining like porcelain. Fuck, but Adagio did love the nobility sometimes.
At first, no party moved beyond breathing, merely revelling in the closeness of their union and how Adagio was stuffed to bursting. Then Fleur began to shift her supermodel hips, at first merely grinding further inside, but soon pistoning her slender cock in and out with thrusts steady and torturously slow.
Fancy Pants, too, began to move, lifting Adagio up from his shaft and lowering her onto it again with a pace glaciers would have called dawdling. Adagio seriously wasn’t sure if she could survive much longer of her ass being so empty when the cock it desperately needed was right there, inching its way back where it belonged.
There was no doubt about it—she’d have to revisit this pair on another occasion.
Even by the time they’d worked up a rhythm, the deliberate restraint to their tempo was perfectly calibrated to have her itching for more. Each shaft drove into her alternately, steadily building her up with each grind against her inner walls, but then periodically they’d both stop and hilt all the way inside her, a pattern that simultaneously satisfied everything she could possibly want and left her almost crying out for them to keep going.
The connection was everything, with Fleur and Fancy Pants no doubt able to feel each other nestled inside her, and Adagio intimately aware of every twitch and quiver either of them might make there.
She’d need a shower afterwards anyway, so, when they were all spent and the time to finish arrived, she dropped to her knees between them, taking turns to deepthroat each cock while fiercely pumping the other with her fist, inviting them both to cover her in cum from face to chest.
Fleur even washed Adagio’s hair afterwards, while Fancy Pants made tea.
“Okay, so here’s the deal,” Aria said, leaning onto the counter. “It’s been a long day. You’re closing in, like, five minutes.”
The guy behind the counter was a gangly little noodle, with dorky freckles running down his nose. But he had a ring on his finger.
And Aria’s shirt was very white, very wet and extremely see-through from “accidentally” spilling water on herself in a park earlier. Which, fuck her luck, she just so happened to do in front of that camp counselor who the nerdy glasses girl was fucking. What’re the odds, right?
All of which is to say that the baker had a nice clear view of damp, shiny cleavage, and even if he managed to look up, he was possibly observant enough to spot a few flecks of cum around Aria’s lips.
So the ratio of effort to reward was looking pretty nice, right about then.
“You’ve probably sold stupid fucking well today, since it’s a holiday and you dove face first into that sappy shit so you could pretty up the same old crap you’d be selling every other day and call it something new. Good stuff. I approve.” Aria flicked her head towards what few customers remained, that late in the day. “So how ‘bout you get those dweebs outta here, bend me over this counter, and we both treat ourselves?”
“I—look, you’re very pretty, but I couldn’t—my wife—”
Said wife took that moment to stick her head out a door behind the counter. She kept most of herself hidden behind said door. But there was a little window in the door, which made it pretty abundantly clear she was at least topless. “Erm, hope I’m not interrupting, but—” She cleared her throat, and gestured to a cupboard under the counter.
The husband, cheeks flushed bright red, crouched down, rummaged through the cupboard, and failed utterly to conceal the bigass strap-on he dug out and tossed to his wife.
“Thanks, sweetie!” The wife blew a kiss, and a moment later the door slammed shut.
There was a pause. The husband looked like he wanted to die, a little. “Sorry about that,” he said half-heartedly. “She’s, um—she’s just taking inventory, you know—”
A pair of distinctly Adagio-colored tits pranced into view of the window. The door creaked and groaned in a steady, but frantic, rhythm. The aforementioned tits bounced and jiggled and squished up against the glass.
Aria arched an eyebrow.
The husband breathed out a heavy sigh.
“Alright, we’re closing up, people!” he called out—and just after he finished, Aria tore her flimsy top down the middle and pounced on him.
“Take it all, you whore!” the woman shouted, loud enough that the neighbours would have heard—if they’d been anywhere but a farm in the middle of nowhere. Adagio’s tongue would have lolled out in idle delight, like a dog after a run, if her mouth hadn’t been entirely full of thick grey cock.
While this outcome hadn’t blindsided her entirely, she had at least considered it unlikely. The demure cardigan she’d picked out—and the white blouse beneath it, too—was soaked with her own drool, which ran freely down her chin as the weighty, tasty phallus invaded her mouth and throat again and again.
She knelt on cold flagstones in the middle of the kitchen floor, staring up at the severe matriarch of the family who’d been looking repressed right up until a few minutes before. Her half-moon glasses barely stayed on the end of her nose as she pummeled Adagio’s blissful throat, rattling on their gold chain. But details like that were hard to focus on with Adagio so occupied, so she mostly let her attention be transfixed by the pendulous swing of the woman’s stately bosom, heavy grey tits lifting and slapping back against her with each thrust.
Stone hands with iron fingers held the back of Adagio’s head in place, for which she was privately thankful, as keeping her head still unbraced, before the force of those impacts, might have been distractingly difficult. Also because the woman holding her there and fucking her throat so mercilessly was exactly what she wanted and really fucking hot and if someone was going to call her a whore then they’d damn better treat her like one.
So she was a good little whore, a perfect one, staying right where she was put and making no sound of protest as a cock that felt the size of a nuclear submarine slammed its way down her throat over and over again. And she only looked up reverently, as the woman became more abusive driving towards her climax.
“Filth! Slut! Harlot!” rained down from above in time with each blow, so Adagio experimented, permitting herself a strangled gurgle. Just as she’d guessed, the suffocating, punishing shaft grew harder at the sound.
Soon Adagio was gurgling constantly, nice little choking noises to say, “Yes, please, fuck me harder, use my body like you were born to.”
The tsunami, when it hit, might have floored her if she hadn’t been held so unflinchingly in place. She swallowed and swallowed, gulping down the sticky seed she’d been gifted, and genuinely did collapse back onto the floor after.
The woman, whose name Adagio never did get, cemented herself as a figure of permanent admiration in how she cleaned up her house by literally dragging a half-conscious Adagio across the floor by the arm, and dumping her outside on the doorstep.
While the neat gardens and picket fences never failed to irritate Aria, with the uninspiring lives their occupants were happy to project, the sight of these particular ones did at least mean she was almost home. Out of the way as it was, the street was quiet enough by sunset that she could walk straight down the middle of the road without bothering to keep an eye out for traffic.
As she rounded the corner, hands in her pockets and making no effort to move any faster than she had to, she spotted Adagio doing very much the same thing approaching from the opposite direction. The clouds above were lit up gold from the last rays of the day, framing Adagio like an entourage, like even nature itself went out of its way to make her look good.
Which it probably did. Wasn’t like the force that gave rabbits their namesake humping enthusiasm was going to miss Adagio Dazzle.
The farm boy had definitely been the highlight, Aria reflected. Not even what she put his wife through, but just that great big satisfying cock. She was still sore in all sorts of places from that encounter, and he’d be getting a follow-up visit sometime for sure.
The bakery had been a fun excursion, though, no denying that. As had the sports team locker room. And riding the crocodile hunter after he’d wrestled her to the floor had been hilarious.
It was a rare thing Adagio cared about anything enough to outweigh how much she cared about herself, and so seeing how dishevelled she looked, once close enough, was a pretty sure sign she’d won the competition. Dishevelled, for her, being one small ladder in her tights, and a few curls out of place.
They halted opposite each other in the street, a few paces apart. “How’d you do?” Aria asked, raising her chin as she did so.
“Thirty-seven,” Adagio stated, then inspected her nails, staring down at them like they didn’t just buff themselves back up to a perfect shine out of fear.
The sinking feeling in Aria’s gut confirmed itself fully sunk, and she let out a heavy breath through her nose. “Twenty-nine.” After shaking her head, she scowled at Adagio. “I know you, I know how indulgent you are. How’d you get so efficient?”
Adagio gave a weak smile. “There’s a couples’ retreat on the other side of town. Ideal hunting ground.”
Through grinding teeth, Aria stored that tidbit away for next year. Adagio would no doubt think of something better by then, but any leg-up would help.
A raised eyebrow said Adagio had noticed the thought. “There’s a blue-skinned lady there with red hair I’d very much recommend. Even you would come out feeling good about yourself after a few minutes with her.”
Aria was going to leave it with just two raised fingers as her reply, but thought, fuck it, and added, “There were a couple of freight trains I saw walking past the station earlier, maybe next year you could try fitting them both in at once?”
“You can make up your own punchline about getting railed, I’m sure.”
Before Aria could reply, the house nearest them exploded.
She and Adagio both dropped to the ground instantly, a lifetime of reflexes jumping in without hesitation. Some had come from fighting, but others…
Yep, there she was. The dust cleared to reveal a house with a hole smashed straight through the middle of it, barely more than the end walls still standing. And, through that chasm where bricks and mortar had recently stood, Aria saw a huge yellow crane, rugged and on massive caterpillar tracks, looming over the street beyond.
From its mast dangled the biggest wrecking ball Aria had ever seen, a metal sphere dozens of feet across, covered in spikes.
And, just visible in the cockpit behind it, was Sonata. She held a phone to her ear, and, sure enough, Aria’s phone rang a moment later. Wordlessly, Aria answered and hit the speakerphone button, holding it out between herself and Adagio.
“Hey guys!” Sonata chirped over the roar of diesel engines, “how’s your day been?”
“Sonata,” Adagio said much too sweetly, “what are you doing?”
“Winning, of course! I had to blow everyone on the whole stupid constriction site, but this year I am winning this homewrecking contest for sure!”
