The Unexpected Unicorn

Kenzie’s brow creases the moment she steps inside the cabana. A stranger, wet and small-breasted, sits on the tiled bench like she’s been caught stealing light. Bella’s hand on her wrist keeps the outburst at bay. “Maybe she needs help,” Bella murmurs. They step closer. Whitney’s shoulders tremble. The blonde and the brunette trade a glance, then offer the spare room. Whitney nods, numb, and follows. Steam curls around her as she rinses off weeks of fear. She returns in borrowed linen, hair still dark from the shower, every inch of pale skin faintly flushed. Kenzie’s voice is low. “If you want to talk, we’ll listen. No judgment.” The words spill. The boyfriend found her journal—dreams of women, mouths, fingers—and the door slammed behind her. Kenzie’s mouth tightens. “Mine did the same.” Bella gathers her into a hug. Warmth. Safety. Whitney’s lips find Bella’s before she can think. Bella stills, then answers, soft and slow. Kenzie watches, breath caught, until Whitney pulls back, cheeks burning. “I’ve wanted this,” Whitney whispers. “An elegant couple who’d look after me. Teach me.” The rest unfolds on the wide bed: Bella’s tongue tracing shy nipples, Kenzie’s fingers parting Whitney where she’s already slick, patient lessons in pleasure that leave Whitney gasping, open, claimed. When she comes—once, twice—the night settles around them like a promise. The cabana door stays unlocked; Whitney’s suitcase stays unpacked. Home, finally, is three bodies learning one another’s names in the dark.