Love Spell

"Thanks for putting up with me."

"That's what friends are for," she shrugs. "Now it's time to go."

We get to the party a little late. Everyone is enthusiastically holding on to their red solo cups. A few guys eye us when we walk in but we ignore them, looking for Tom and Brian. We spot them almost immediately. They're by the keg, chatting with a couple of guys. We catch their eyes and they both do a chin-lift.

"Let's get something to drink," Tara suggests, pointing over to a cauldron where one of Tom's friends' girlfriends is scooping some punch into cups.

The punch turns out to be delicious. We both have a few cups before the boys descend, grinding against our asses. Flashing blue lights illuminate our bodies as we dry fuck our men. We're lost in being tipsy and into the erotic joy of fucking one another over our clothes. Brian grunts and curses in my ear. I think I can hear Tara shriek with pleasure over the driving bass of the song.

Then I open my eyes and the music stops. Snow surrounds us.

A faceless yet familiar voice purrs, "You look beautiful, Rosemary."

"No," I sob. "It can't be."