The doorbell chimed through the haze of anticipation in Chet's apartment, where the air already carried the faint chemical bite of the pipe waiting on the coffee table. He smoothed the silk camisole hidden under his loose button-down, the garter straps tugging against his thighs as he crossed to the door, heart pounding with the mix of nerves and craving that had built all evening. Dajae and Grit stepped inside with easy grins, the nineteen-year-olds radiating that playful energy he’d watched from afar for months—their bodies brushing close in greeting as Dajae pulled him into a quick hug, her strap-on harness faintly outlined under her tight jeans, and Grit clapped his shoulder with warm enthusiasm.

“Damn, Chet, place smells ready for a session,” Grit said, kicking off his shoes and dropping onto the couch, while Dajae eyed the meth pipe with a spark in her eyes. They settled in naturally, packing the bowl together, the first hit crackling to life as Chet passed it around. The initial rush hit quick and sharp, warmth flooding veins and loosening tongues, the room taking on a sharper glow under the low lights.

Dajae exhaled a plume of smoke, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she leaned closer to Chet, her hand resting on his knee. “You always this quiet when we get high, or you saving something for later?” she murmured, eyes tracing the way his shirt shifted over the hidden lace. Grit chuckled from the other side, scooting nearer so their thighs touched, the high amplifying the flirty edge in his voice. “Yeah, man, you look kinda... dressed for trouble tonight. Bet there’s more under there than meets the eye.” The air thickened with shared laughter and building heat, their hands lingering a beat longer than casual, meth sharpening every glance into something electric and unspoken.

Chet laughed it off, the sound husky and edged with the meth's sharpening rush, as he reached for the pipe again. "We'll see in a moment what this night brings," he said, passing it to Grit first, then Dajae, their fingers brushing his with deliberate warmth. The bowl crackled through another round, smoke curling thick in the low light, and soon the high bloomed fully—every nerve alight, pulses syncing in the thickening air, inhibitions melting into raw, electric want. Dajae's hand slid higher on his thigh while Grit leaned in close enough for his breath to ghost over Chet's neck, the three of them laughing low and hungry as the last hit settled deep.

All of them were floating now, bodies loose and hypersensitive, when Chet stood abruptly, heart hammering against the hidden silk. "Grit, the answer to your curiosity is right here," he said, voice rough with need, and began unbuttoning his shirt. The fabric parted to reveal the delicate camisole clinging to his chest, then the bra beneath, straps taut over his shoulders. His pants dropped next, exposing the garter belts framing his thighs and the sheer stockings hugging his legs, the matching panties stretched tight over his tucked cock forming a pronounced camel toe between his spread stance. "I hope this isn't too much but you guys are so fucking hot I've wanted both of you for so long today seeing you both knowing that you're into what im into I just had to risk it. Look at me my 10" cock is tucked back so I got a camel toe. My mouth is watering to taste your pussy and your cock, my ass hole is wet and ready to be fucked by both of you, and any second I'm going to be something hard ill have tipo let my cock loose so please tell me that you both want me like I want you."

Dajae's eyes darkened with arousal as she rose too, her strap-on harness pressing visibly against her jeans, while Grit's hand moved to adjust himself, his own cock hardening at the sight of Chet's exposed vulnerability and the glistening outline of that tucked length. The meth amplified every detail—the faint sheen of sweat on Chet's skin, the way the garters bit into his flesh, the emotional rush of finally revealing himself mixing with the sharp throb of desire between them all.

Dajae stepped forward first, her fingers tracing the edge of the camisole where it met Chet's skin, sending a shiver racing up his spine as the meth made every touch feel like fire. "Fuck, Chet, this is hot as hell," she breathed, her voice low and thick with lust, pressing her body against his so he could feel the rigid outline of her strap-on grinding against his tucked cock through the sheer panties. Grit was right there too, hands roaming down to cup the garter-strapped thighs, his own erection straining visibly against his jeans as he leaned in to kiss the side of Chet's neck, tongue flicking out to taste the salt-sweat there. "We've been wanting this too, man—both of us. Look at you, all pretty and ready, that camel toe making my mouth water." The air pulsed with their shared high, every breath laced with chemical sharpness and the growing musk of arousal, Dajae's nipples hardening under her shirt as she reached down to free Chet's cock from its tuck, the thick ten inches springing free with a heavy throb that made Grit groan in approval.

Chet's knees weakened at the contact, his hole clenching with anticipation as Dajae's hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking slow and firm while Grit dropped to his knees to nuzzle the lace of the panties aside, tongue darting out to lap at the sensitive skin beneath. The emotional flood hit harder than the meth—years of hidden longing unraveling in this moment of acceptance, their bodies connecting in a tangle of limbs and heat, Dajae's playful dominance shining through as she guided Grit's mouth toward Chet's exposed pussy-like tuck before shifting to press her strap-on against his ass. "Tell us what you want, baby," she murmured, eyes locked on his with raw hunger, her free hand sliding under the bra to tease his chest. Grit looked up from below, lips slick, his own cock freed now and hard in his fist as he added, "Yeah, we're all in—gonna fuck you deep while you taste her." The room spun with sensation, the garters biting tighter with each shift, their moans blending into the haze as hands and mouths explored without restraint, the night stretching open like their shared desires.

The room spun with sensation, the garters biting tighter with each shift, their moans blending into the haze as hands and mouths explored without restraint, the night stretching open like their shared desires. Chet's voice cracked through the thick air, raw and desperate as Dajae's fingers stroked his throbbing cock and Grit's tongue teased lower. "I want to be fucked by your big cock Grit while mine is buried deep inside Dajae," he gasped, hips bucking into their touches, the meth flooding him with a dizzying rush of honesty and need that made his cheeks burn even as his ass clenched in anticipation.

Grit groaned against Chet's thigh, standing up with his own rigid cock in hand, veins pulsing along the shaft as he positioned himself behind, the head nudging insistently at Chet's slick, ready hole. Dajae grinned with wicked delight, shedding her jeans to reveal the strap-on harness strapped tight over her hips, its thick silicone length already glistening with lube she applied in quick strokes while pressing close to Chet's front. Her breasts pressed against his camisole-clad chest as she guided his freed cock toward her wet pussy, sinking down onto him with a shared moan that vibrated through all three bodies—the tight, hot grip of her walls milking his length while Grit pushed inside from behind, stretching Chet's ass in one slow, deliberate thrust that sent sparks exploding behind his eyes.

The sensations layered impossibly deep, meth sharpening every slide and grind into electric pulses of pleasure and connection, Chet's hands roaming Dajae's curves as Grit's grip tightened on his garter-framed hips, thrusting harder now in rhythm with Dajae's rocking motions. Sweat slicked their skin, the air heavy with the scent of sex and chemicals, emotional walls crumbling as Chet surrendered fully between them—filled and filling, his hidden fantasies erupting into reality with every shared gasp and thrust.

Chet's cock, a full two inches longer than Grit's, slammed into Dajae's G-spot with every forward thrust while Grit's thick shaft dragged relentlessly over Chet's prostate, the dual pressure building into an earth-shaking wave of pleasure that made his whole body quake. Dajae came first, her pussy clenching and flooding around Chet's length as she squirted hard, hot juices gushing out to soak his garter straps and drip down his thighs. She locked eyes with him, breathless, and asked if he'd ever been fisted or double penetrated; he gasped no to both, the filthy images of her fist or Grit's cock and her strap-on stretching him together shoving him over the edge as he cried out that he was about to cum. His ass clamped down on Grit's driving shaft, milking him into release with a guttural groan while Dajae shuddered through a second climax, her walls pulsing around Chet's spurting cock.

Dajae eased off him with a wicked grin, retrieving the meth pipe and her kit bag. She laid out three 100-unit syringes, a bag of meth, a spoon, and a bottle of water, then smiled mischievously at Chet. "Chet, we are all going to do a big shot of this meth then you're going to be our slut. You're gonna let me fist fuck your little pussy while you're sucking Grit's cock, making sure it's rock hard and ready for your pussy. Once I've got you good and ready, Grit is gonna bury his cock deep inside you then I'm going to shove my cock in with his, stretching your pussy to its limit. Then we are gonna fuck you like the slut you are." They each slammed their shots; the rush hit Chet like lightning. He bolted to his room, snatched pillows and a blanket, dropped to his hands and knees with his face buried in the pillow and ass high, and moaned, "Dajae, do it baby, fist my tight pussy."

Lingerie in the Haze: A Meth-Infused Threesome