The carnival block wound through the streets of Rio's South Zone, a sea of sweaty, buzzing bodies swallowed up by the party. The music pulsed in the sticky air, old-school marchinhas blending with the stench of beer and raw horniness. I was right there, cracking up with my crew, some half-assed costume thrown over my bikini. The booze was pumping through me, and I didn't give a shit about the random grazes, arms sliding against my skin as we grinded in that mad crush of people. I made out without a second thought, handing my lips to any mouth that caught my eye even a little. Carnival didn't care about names—just grins and bare flesh.
That's when I spotted her.
A few steps up ahead, this blonde was eyeing me. Her stare, this sharp blue, was a straight-up filthy come-on, a pull I couldn't shake. That sly grin of hers hinted at trouble, promising all kinds of sweet trouble. But damn, it was her looks that really knocked me out—knocked me out 'cause she seemed so out of place in that mess of sweat and cheap booze. Her golden hair hung loose over her shoulders, not a frizz from the brutal heat. Her skin, pale like polished marble, didn't fit with Rio's punishing sun. She didn't belong. And hell, maybe that's what made her so damn mesmerizing.
My pulse kicked up. I knew exactly how this game would play out. But I wasn't ditching my friends. I wasn't making the first move. My lips barely moved as I whispered:
"Come here."
I crooked my finger real subtle, betting she'd catch on.
She grinned again. But instead of closing the gap, she looked away.
"The bitch doesn't wanna kiss me!" I hollered, buzzed and giggling, throwing the words to the wind, lost in the roar of the electric trio.
The block kept rolling—that's what blocks do—and when I scanned around, she was gone.
It was like the whole damn block emptied out in a flash. This weird, gnawing void. Every blonde head started jumping out at me. Each face made me freeze for a beat, praying it was her. But nope. I hunted for her in every glimpse, every stranger passing by, chasing those eyes that had me hooked.
"What's up, girl?" one of my friends asked, clocking my vibe.
"Fuck, I saw this smoking hot chick, but she disappeared..." I spilled, still foggy, frustration heating my skin worse than the sun.
She cracked up, leaning in.
"Then kiss me."
Before I could even blink, she yanked me in and laid one on me—quick, sloppy, all tongue.
I shoved her off fast, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Beat it, you straight chick! You don't even like girls, for fuck's sake!"
She busted out laughing, zero regrets, just danced back into the chaos like it was nothing.
I knew I oughta snap back to the party, let the carnival vibe sweep me up instead of chaining me to a phantom. But something about her had latched on, scorching my skin like a secret brand. I sucked in a breath, trying to shake it off and keep moving, until I felt it.
A hand glided over my stomach, nails dragging light, sending chills racing across my flushed skin. The touch snuck up from behind, playful, taunting. My gut said it was some buddy screwing with me, so I yelled in fake fury.
"Fuck! Cut that shit out, damn it!" I cursed, laughing all jittery as I spun around.
Surprise.
And just like that, everything froze.
The band's noise faded. The crowd melted into this hush that was all in my head, obviously. My grin dropped, and my heart hammered so fierce I felt it in my fingers.
Right there, face-to-face, was her.
The blonde. My blonde.
Up close, she was even more unreal. Her eyes burned like a summer storm, and that smirk on her lips looked made for wrecking shit.
"Who said the bitch doesn't wanna kiss you?" she asked, her voice rough from the party and dripping with tease.
And before I could catch my breath, she kissed me.
The world whirled around us, but all I registered was the insane heat of her body melting into mine. She pressed right up, owning every inch of space, no second-guessing, no asking. She claimed me full-on.
Her arms yanked me tight, smashing our bodies till there wasn't a whisper of air between. Our tits mashed first, slick with sweat on fever-hot skin, gliding like they'd done this a hundred times. Her sweat mingled with mine, warm and clingy, soaking every curve, every spot where her skin dragged against me.
She panted hard against my mouth, and when our lips crashed, it exploded. The kiss was sloppy, desperate, all possessive. Her tongue dove in, tangling with mine in this wild, no-holds-barred grind, zero practice, zero bullshit. She sucked my lips with a hunger that made my head reel, leaving this salty, heady taste—like summer and pure want.
Surrounded by strangers, dudes and chicks who didn't exist in our bubble right then, my hand snaked to her. I trailed my fingers over her scorching skin, under that flimsy, sweat-soaked beach cover, till I cupped her tight little ass. I gripped hard, nails biting just enough to get a rise out of her.
Her mouth fell open, maybe to bitch, maybe to groan, but all that came was a low, ragged breath.
She craved more.
My hand crept up her thigh, feeling every quiver, every muscle clench under my fingers. No pause—I tugged her bikini aside, clearing the path for me smack in the middle of the throng. Her body sucked the fabric in, and I eased my fingers to her core, hitting nothing but heat and slick wetness.
She froze. Locked eyes with me. Smirked.
Drew a deep breath.
My fingers mapped her out, uncovering all the feels and folds. She wasn't fully bare—a soft, natural fuzz tickled my fingertips as I traced her shape. She was one of those women with layers, endless spots to uncover. With steady fingers, I pushed deeper, carving out room, getting the lay of her unique heat, pulsing hot under me. Her wetness was a straight-up scandal, sweat and juices mixing, slipping easy between my fingers. I glided smooth till I hit her entrance, scorching and aching to be stuffed.
One knuckle slipped in slow, probing the fit, and her body lit up right away. The breath hitched in her throat burst out in a sharp gasp, her hands clamped my arms in a vise grip, like a quiet no. Her eyes went wide, face tight in a silent beg.
"Not here, please."
No goddamn way.
The idea zapped through my brain like lightning.
With my free hand, I went at her from the front, hard and sure. My fingers hooked the drenched bikini and yanked it over, baring her wide. My palm sealed over her steaming pussy, fingertips nailing her rock-hard clit, throbbing at my touch.
She quaked head to toe.
A choked moan muffled into my neck as she buried her face there, fighting the noise, fighting to hold out.
I wasn't letting her off.
One finger plunged deep inside her while another worked her clit ruthless, switching up the pressure, stroking, circling the way I knew would wreck her. She clawed my arms harder, like she was clinging to keep from crumbling. Her body rocked between bolting and breaking, sometimes bucking into me for more, sometimes jerking back to dodge the bliss I was shoving on her.
But escape? Not happening.
My fingers pumped deep, syncing to the sweaty, pounding carnival rhythm.
"Here's hoping it rains,
Three days without stopping
Here's hoping it rains
Three days without stopping
'Cause I'm dying to get soaked..."
I chuckled at how ridiculous that beat was, offbeat but spot-on, timing my thrusts like some twisted game. She tried to hit back, but I shut it down, keeping the reins, steering her where I wanted.
But then she got through. A bold finger shoved into me. It was rough, awkward, missing that girl finesse—felt like a thumb jamming in.
My body jolted, the jolt mixing shock with the thrill of the surprise. My eyes slammed shut, breath snagged, and then I let go.
Wild, we railed each other right there, give and take, bodies fused in sweat and need, the crowd clueless to our shit. Every thrust hauled us nearer the brink, every graze dragged us deeper into this drenched carnival filth. The climax slammed us, brutal and fierce, but we had to choke it down, stifle it in hushed groans against each other's skin. The rush rattled us, left us shaking, made us blank on the world spinning by.
When it crashed, she kissed me once more, but the fire had cooled. Without dropping a name, she went cold on me, just straightened her shit and slipped into the masses, no backward glance.
The world clicked back on. The block marched on. The band kept blasting. Nobody clocked us. Or so I figured. I glanced around, hunting my friends, tallying them in my head.
One short.
I pivoted slow, and there she was.
The same friend who'd smooched me before.
Squeezed up behind me, licking her thumb all slow and slick, before lifting her hand and flashing a naughty thumbs-up.
Then, grinning, she belted out the tune, all mocking:
"Allah-lá-ô, ô ô ô ô ô ô
But what heat, ô ô ô ô ô ô...
We crossed the Sahara desert
The sun was hot
It burned our faces..."
The laugh ripped out of me before I could stop it.
Fucking lust.
Fucking friends.
Fucking carnival.