BFFS- EDM Sluts Fucked By Lousy DJ
Title: “BFFs: EDM Sluts Fucked by Lousy DJs”
Welcome, dear reader, to a sordid tale of unwittingly unleashed magic at an EDM festival gone wild. Picture this: a sprawling field, where the bass pounds and the candy ravers twirl. The air is thick with crushed stale candy, stale urine, and desperation to escape reality. In the midst of this kaleidoscopic chaos, two BFFs with more skin exposed than fabric make a fateful decision.
Melanie and Autumn, a matched pair of mouthwatering mischief, spot a set of turntables beneath a garish neon sign, “Louie’s Epic DJ Experience will blow your mind!” The DJ, a scruffy wannabe with an impressive ego, winks at them with a leer that reeks of generic alcohol. Dispensing stimulating energy to the partygoers is his only goal. At least, it was, until our heroines caught his beady little eyes.
“It’s almost like he’s got an orgasm of a plan,” Melanie giggles, her pert breasts nearly popping out of her swimsuit top. “Let’s dance for the DJ, BFF!”
Autumn, a tall brunette goddess in a pair of denim cut-offs, grabs Melanie’s hand. “Race ya!”
They writhe. They twerk. Salaciously, they grind on each other, presenting their plump asses to Louie. Meanwhile, the masses gyrate around them, lost in psychedelic oblivion. But you can bet your last ecstasy tab the DJ isn’t focused on his fans. No, he’s transfixed by the sight of such unrestrained eroticism.
As the BFFs climax on each other in euphoric ecstasy under the DJ booth, they unknowingly tap into the positive energy of the EDM universe. Magic happens. The seething ogling DJ sends a lustful bolt of power back toward the touch of their bodies. Unbeknownst to them, they’ve been anointed. Transformed into temporary agents of the fetish world.
The party explodes into a far-out orgiastic free-for-all. The music seems to pulse with the rhythm of skin slapping against quivering flesh. Suddenly everyone’s hands are everywhere! The festival has become a free love buffet.
Melanie wraps her tongue around a raver’s nipple while Autumn dances away with a cutie wearing only glow sticks and body paint. Spunk stains a music junkie’s hair. A cacophony of moans, grunts and howls rises into the air. The DJ has never seen such a spectacle. Nor will he ever again.
As the BFFs themselves become the last two festival guests upright, they start giggling uncontrollably. Maybe it was the ecstasy kicking in, or perhaps something deeper. They know they’ve unleashed something ferocious.
“Should we tell people it’s over and go back to the hotel – like, before someone really gets hurt?” asks Melanie, still naked even though the scene had reached its peak.
Autumn shakes her head. “No way. We’re not going to be the killjoys here. Just… maybe we should get out of here while the getting’s good?”
They amble off–the only two people still vertical, leaving behind a writhing mass of humanity urgently humping one another. Praise Louie, they hadn’t shredded the fabric of reality altogether. Just left a whole lot of people with extremely fond memories of letting their drunken freak flags fly high.
The DJ continues to play music as the orgy starts to nearest. But nothing happens when people ask for his name at the hotel, because it turns out he’s lost his DJ identity, strip of personality or sense of self. The two women had collectively rocked his world…and now he was rock in his own right. A stone, floating in an endless ocean of his own sudsy juices.
Melanie and Autumn returned home, with nothing but difficult reality left to play with. They were soon back to their regular lives as students, and their so wild “…edm festival” story faded into the background as each slowly fell out of touch… even a BFF’s magic can fade in time…
Little did they know, they’d forever be bonded by the debauchery they’d unleashed. They’d be unwittingly fetishized, tolerated but never fully celebrated in the wild and wooly future of virtual reality. Ruthless utilitarianism: after all, they’d be talking heads only, forever associated with the orgiastic exploits of a semi-competent DJ hopeful. Dangling the tantalizing audio Charlatans of chronology’s cataloging of fantasies they’d ignited for the ages.
And while Melanie and Autumn had altered the course of an entire EDM genre, they’d beMás popular, more recognized in a virtual infinity of simulated fevers, simulations of simulated synergies between bedroom. But they’d be perpetually off-line when it came to enjoying the fruits of their labor.
