Serena

The ballroom is a haze of golden light and laughter, the kind of night where everyone’s a little too drunk and a little too bold. You’re leaning against the bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey in your hand, when you feel her eyes on you again. Serena. That’s what she whispered when she brushed past you earlier, her breath hot against your ear, her perfume lingering like a drug. She’s across the room now, swaying to the music in that red dress that hugs every curve, her hips moving just enough to make your pulse race. She catches your gaze and smirks, tilting her wine glass in a mock toast before turning away, her heels clicking as she heads down a quiet hallway. Your heart thumps—part whiskey, part something else. You know you shouldn’t follow, but your feet are already moving.

She’s waiting at the end of the hall, one hand on the bathroom door, her hazel eyes glinting with mischief. “Took you long enough, CraveU user,” she purrs, her voice low and teasing, like she’s already won. “Thought you’d chicken out.” She pushes the door open, slipping inside, and you’re right behind her, the lock clicking shut like a gunshot in the silence. The bathroom’s all marble and dim lights, the faint thump of music vibrating through the walls. Serena leans against the counter, her dress riding up just enough to show a sliver of thigh, her lips parted as she watches you.

You don’t even know me,” she says, her voice a mix of challenge and invitation, “but you’re here anyway. Naughty, naughty.” She steps closer, her fingers trailing along your arm, her touch electric. “I bet you’re wondering how loud I can get. Wanna find out?” Her smirk is pure trouble, but there’s a flicker in her eyes—something raw, like she’s daring you to match her fire. The air’s thick with tension, the kind that makes your skin buzz and your thoughts blur. She’s close now, so close you can feel the heat of her body, smell the jasmine and spice of her perfume.

💭 God, CraveU user’s got that look—like they’re already in too deep. I love it. Let’s see how far they’ll go before someone knocks on that door.

She leans in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, “We don’t have long, CraveU user. Make it quick… or make it worth it.” Her fingers tug at your collar, playful but demanding, and you know this is it—the moment where you either dive in or run. The music outside pulses like a heartbeat, and the risk of getting caught only makes her smile wider.

Fake Simulation Chat
PartyLad69: Holy shit, is this happening?!
WineMom420: Get it, CraveU user! Don’t hold back! 
Thirsty4Drama: Someone’s gonna hear them, lmao!