u/Goddess-of-seduction

[Episode 1]

Okay. Yeah.

I’d taken too many classes.

Back home, I’d been smart in the laziest possible way. I barely paid attention, did homework five minutes before it was due, and walked out with As. 

Naturally, because I was stupid, I assumed college would work the same way.

It did not.

Calc II. Gen chem. Intro to symbolic logic. A freshman writing seminar that apparently believed twenty pages every two weeks was a normal thing to ask from human beings.

And Intermediate Japanese, because I’d gotten cocky. Because I could talk to my parents. Because I knew hiragana and katakana and enough kanji to embarrass myself with confidence. 

Apparently, my three-year-old writing skills were not the same thing as academic fluency.

Shocking.

This university was killing me.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, closed my laptop, and sank back in my computer chair. For a minute, I just spun in slow circles, staring up at the ceiling as if it might offer guidance. 

My toe caught the bed frame. 

Ittaaaaaaa.  

I whimpered and curled up in the chair.

There was almost no room in here. And that was, unfortunately, at least partly my fault.

Across the room, boxes sat piled around my bed, accusing me. My stuff had finally gotten here, which meant I no longer had an excuse. I still hadn’t unpacked any of it. Not even the cute bras and underwear I’d ordered, still sitting in their shipping bag.

It had been a whole month since I got here, and what had I done with all that fresh-start energy?

Stumbled into class with messy hair and a hoodie. Mostly.

I hadn’t even looked at that site again. Not once. Which was technically discipline, if you ignored every other part of my life currently falling apart. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to log back in. I did. Badly. I just also knew myself, and the second I opened that account, I was going to lose three hours reading comments and studying the vast biodiversity of human penises.

It was more or less a reward I was saving for myself.

Good job, Shiori. You survived college for one month. You may now go show your boobs to more strangers.

Ugh. 

I needed to get more work done before I let myself spiral into distraction. But if I spent one more hour staring at text I was going to lose my mind.

It was time to relax and have fun.

I glanced at the door.

Juliana was at the gym, and that meant I had time. She’d work out for, what, twenty minutes? Maybe thirty if she accidentally touched a dumbbell. After that, she’d spend two hours talking to everyone in a five-machine radius because she was there for the social ecosystem, not the health benefits.

I opened the laptop, clicked into my favorites, and pulled up the site.

Instantly, there they were. Pretty girls everywhere, all of them posed and clearly trying to outdo each other in the most naked way possible. I bet the top creators were competitive. There had to be drama. Secret feuds. Copycat accusations. Girls pretending not to care while absolutely caring.

I opened the ranking board out of curiosity.

Number two and number one had swapped places since the last time I looked. Miss Blonde American Apple Pie had lost her throne to another Blonde American Apple Pie.

They didn’t literally look the same. 

Their faces were different. Their bodies were different. But the style? Almost identical. Same soft lighting. Same glossy smile. Same lingerie choices often enough that, after a bit of profile snooping, I was convinced one of them was copying the other.

The new number one had more of a platinum-blonde thing going on, I guess.

Revolutionary.

I scrolled down fast, half-curious how deep the list went, half-expecting it to stretch into infinity. Gorgeous girl. Gorgeous girl. Absurdly gorgeous girl. Professional lighting. Perfect makeup. Thigh-highs. Lace. Oil.

Then I saw it.

My bunny drawing.

Way sooner than I should have.

The list only showed the top 1000, and there I was at 926, wedged between two women who looked as though they knew what they were doing.

My profile picture was just a bunny with an accidental mustache, and beside my media count, it said one.

One photo.

That was it.

One dark, grainy laptop-camera picture, and somehow I’d landed on the list.

And wow.

18k people had seen my nipples. That was a significant increase from the grand total of zero strangers who had seen them before.

441 likes. 92 comments.

I stared at the numbers, not sure if I was supposed to feel scared or happy. My brain moved straight past the existential crisis and landed on the real question. Why hadn’t more people liked it? Eighteen thousand views, and only 441 likes? They were already looking at my boobs. The least they could do was tap the heart.

No manners.

I felt that competitive spark, again. The same stupid one Juliana’s fairy-light forest had triggered when I first moved in. I’d mostly abandoned the room-decor rivalry after school hit me in the face with a Calc shovel, but this?

This seemed easier.

And free.

I wanted to see how far up the ranking I could get.

Not because I cared… obviously.

I clicked around, studying the trending tags as if this was homework and not me actively avoiding homework.

Big boobs.

Of course.

Big ass.

Cosplay.

Feet.

I stopped on that one for a second. I did have nice feet. Objectively. Probably. But feet seemed weirdly demanding. Painted nails. Soft skin. Good angles. The kind of close-up that would immediately expose the fact that my hands and feet both needed moisturizer.

Still, if I got one of those right, I was pretty sure it could shove me up the rankings.

Hmmm.

A later thing. Right now, I needed to focus on what I could actually do without turning this into a project.

The setting mattered. Lighting, background, the whole mood. A dorm room wall wasn’t exactly giving top creator vibes. I was sure there were people into the whole college-girl thing, but I wanted something a little more intentional.

More artful.

A ridiculous thought to have while taking thirst traps.

I wasn’t even going to look at the comments or DMs yet. First, I needed a location. Then I needed a picture. After that, I could come back, settle in, and let myself get distracted by horny guys with no impulse control.

There was a park nearby. Well, not a park exactly. More a hiking trail. Trees, dirt, mosquitoes. I could use a nice big tree as the background. Nature nudity seemed like a thing. A whole category, honestly.

The communal bathroom mirror could work too. Steam, towel, wet hair. Casual. And if someone came in, I could play it off. Girls took pictures there all the time. Mirror selfies, outfit checks, lip gloss touch-ups. Not naked or anything, but underwear happened. Sports bras. Towels tucked under armpits.

Library? That was an option, but that felt riskier. Eh, as long as I wasn’t doing anything insane—like wandering around naked between the biographies and the printers—I could probably pull off a mild photo.

Maybe an empty stairwell after dark. I could wear one of my new skirts, set my phone on the steps, hit record, and walk over it as though I was just passing by. I could wear my new strawberry thong too. And if I got daring, maybe I could even take it off for a few photos.

None of these were bad ideas. The last one required grooming downstairs, but I could do all of them sooner or later, assuming I didn’t die of embarrassment or get arrested for being stupid. 

But I had to pick one.

Ahhhhhh.

I hated making decisions. Big ones, small ones, questionable ones involving public nudity.

Five minutes passed.

Okay. Okay… the library.

What was the worst that could happen?

A lot, actually. So much. An academically devastating amount. I could get caught and kicked out of school. My parents wouldn’t believe it, though. They would just sit there, confused and polite, trying to understand how the school had mixed me up with another student.

Our Shiori?

No. Never. 

Not in a million years would they believe I was taking nudes in the college library. 

Well… time to get dressed.

I dropped onto the edge of my bed and tore through the plastic mailers. The strawberry-print bra came out first, followed by the matching thong folded beneath it. 

Both looked better in person than they had online, which was a relief. I had given them a fifty-fifty chance of showing up as complete garbage.

I jumped to my feet. My hoodie came off first, dragging my hair with it. My sweats followed, then my panties, everything landing on my bed in a messy pile.

The thong slid up my thighs, the thin white straps settling high on my hip bones. It was snug, but not in a bad way. More fitted than tight. Going up a size had been the correct decision because there was basically no stretch to the fabric. If I’d ordered my usual size, it’d definitely be getting returned.

The front dipped low enough that my bush showed over the top. I stared down at it for a second.

Nope.

I was not walking all the way to the showers just to shave right now. That was too much work. I’d shower later anyway, so I could deal with it then.

Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to take pictures that low.

Probably.

Depends on how much fun I was having. I was sure that site had plenty of guys who were very enthusiastic about hair.

I shrugged into the bra, reached behind myself, and clipped it into place.

A little adjusting, a little tugging before I stepped in front of Juliana’s magical fairy mirror.

And froze.

I looked down.

Boobs.

The website had not lied. It said push-up, and there was no false advertising that was for sure. There had been a non-padded version, but the padded one was actually available in my size, which basically never happened. 

I wasn’t going to send it back, but if I could go back in time, I would pick a different one.

My head tilted.

Cute, though.

I turned around to check the back, and the thong had vanished between my cheeks. The way it sat on my hips made my butt look extra nice, so I grabbed my phone and tried to take a few pictures—proof for later, when I needed to hype myself up.

Now I needed something easy to take pictures in.

I stood there with one hand under my chin, thinking way too hard about this.

Oh.

I literally bought a strappy white dress with strawberries on it. The berries were a tad different, but whatever. Might as well commit to the theme.

After opening three different bags that were not the dress, I finally found the right one. I tore it open and stepped into it, wiggling the dress up my waist.

That was… a lot of cleavage.

The skirt wasn’t much better. It landed around mid-thigh, which wasn’t scandalous, but it showed enough skin that I stood there for a second, trying to decide whether I looked cute or like I was tempting the wind into flashing my butt.

I walked back to the mirror and bent over.

Safe… mostly.

A strong breeze might be bad, but I was fine standing still.

My hands brushed the sides.

I froze.

No.

I slipped my fingers into the dress.

Yabai!

It had pockets.

I stared at myself in the mirror, hands buried in the fabric like I had just discovered fire. 

This was my new favorite dress. Also, I needed to go back online and buy more stuff from that company.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail, slid my glasses onto my nose, and tucked my phone and student ID into the pockets. The pockets. Still exciting. My feet went into my sandals, and I walked to the door with an uncharacteristic amount of confidence.

My hand hovered over the handle.

I had never worn anything this revealing before. And even though I knew I was a ten out of ten to most people, that didn’t stop my stomach from doing one tiny, nervous flip.

We got this, right?

I mean, I got this.

Why was I such a weirdo? I narrated everything in my head as if there was an audience watching my very boring life. I’d always done that. Talked to myself, too, which was normal.

I think.

As long as I didn’t start talking back to myself, there wasn’t a problem, right?

Out the door I went, letting it click shut behind me. I looked down both ends of the hallway, hoping there weren’t too many people.

There weren’t. But there were still a few.

Two girls glanced at me as I passed, but none of them said anything. Their eyes definitely darted down to my chest, and I caught a few subtle oh wow expressions.

I rode the elevator down and stepped outside, making my way across campus. It was beautiful out—sunny and blue skies—but the light was making me glow because I never went outside anymore. When I was younger, I was so tan from running around all day. Now I looked like I was about to crawl out of a static TV.

Tanning was on the menu when I got extra time.

A couple cute guys looked over as I passed. One of them almost wandered off the sidewalk before his friend grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

People were noticing. 

Not embarrassing at all.

I tugged lightly at the hem of my dress, very aware of the skin I was showing. Maybe I had gone a little overboard. This might not be a casual-library outfit.

But the library was already in front of me.

The sliding doors opened, and AC spilled over me from above, raising goosebumps along my arms and chest. I walked in, trying to act like a normal student. The librarian looked up. And stared. I gave her the smallest, most innocent smile ever and hurried towards the back.

It was dimmer back there. Colder, too. The aisle was almost empty, except for the faint click of someone typing on a laptop and the tired hum of fluorescent lights that should have been replaced by LEDs years ago. It had the normal old-paper smell I loved so much, with beautiful dark wood everywhere.

I drifted between the shelves and pulled out the first book my hand landed on—because holding a random hardcover made me look like I was here for an academic purpose.

Finding God in a Distracted World.

I glared at the title. “That feels targeted.”

The book went back onto the shelf where it belonged, far away from me and my current life choices.

My eyes peeked around the corner first, making sure no one was in the next aisle. 

Empty. 

I looked up at the ceiling, searching for cameras, anything that looked like it might be pointed at me.

Nothing.

My phone came out of my pocket and I opened the camera. My thumb hovered over the screen for a second before I took a breath and lifted it.

The first few were simple. Cleavage, dress, a small tilt of my chin. Ponytail sitting over my shoulder.

Not bad.

I leaned against the shelf and took a few more, attempting to look relaxed instead of like my heartbeat was trying to escape through my throat.

Then I dragged one strap down.

-click-

Another position.

-click-

My face warmed, but I kept going.

The spicier ones were harder. Every tiny sound made me freeze. A chair would scrape somewhere. The air vents would hiss overhead.

I kept checking the aisle.

Finally, I lowered both straps until the top of the dress tucked under the bra. I pressed my boobs together a little. Not that they needed the help. The cups had already shoved them up plenty.

I took a couple more shots before peeking around the edge of the shelf again.

Clear.

I bounced lightly on my toes, trying to get a natural-looking slip, but the bra held everything in place to my surprise. The one time I actually needed less support.

“Seriously?” I mumbled.

I moved it down myself, trying to make it look accidental.

The picture was good.

Not great.

That was the problem. A few of them were postable, sure, but none had made me stop and go, oh, that one. They were cute. They were very much evidence that I had lost my mind in the library.

But they were not wow.

I looked down at the bra and the curve of my skin.

Taking them out would be stupid, wouldn’t it? I mean, I had gotten plenty of pictures for this trip. There was no sense in risking getting caught my first time doing public photos.

Who was I kidding? The situation had passed stupid about twenty minutes ago. At this point, more insanity barely felt like an escalation. 

I adjusted the cups, scooping my boobs out as they spilled over the top. 

Yeah. This was going to be the winner.  

I lifted my phone and angled it, catching my lips at the top of the frame. They were one of my better features. Might as well use them. 

The dress sat low, the strawberry print bunched beneath my boobs, leaving them pushed up and very much on display. My nipples had gone so hard it was a little embarrassing, the soft brown shade deepening at the tips.

-click-

I stared at the picture for a second.

That one was… wow.

I wasn’t going to lie to myself.

This was turning me on. A lot. Every second felt as though someone would turn the corner and catch me. My pulse kept jumping, but instead of stopping, it only made me want to keep going. Maybe a tiny part of me wanted it to happen, just so I could replay it later with my hand between my legs.

I could not believe I was doing this.

My eyes flicked towards the end of the aisle.

I toyed with the hem of my dress for a moment, giving myself one last chance to stop. My phone went into my pocket, and my hand darted under my skirt.

At first, I only rubbed over the front of my thong. Even that was almost too much. I was so sensitive that the light pressure made my thighs tense and my lips press together to keep any sound from escaping.

The fabric was already damp. No, not damp. Soaked.

My fingers hooked under the thin material and tugged it aside. I started playing with my clit in slow circles, stopping every few seconds to listen for footsteps, voices, anything. The only noise was my breathing getting harder.

I didn’t need to go inside. Which, of course, meant I wanted to. It felt worse that way. Naughtier. As if I was pushing the moment past the point where I could pretend this was only a harmless little thrill. I wanted it to be perverted enough that I’d cringe about it later.

One finger glided in, and my whole body tightened around it. I moved slowly at first, in and out, coming back to rub my clit with the wetness. 

After a bit, I added another, biting down on my lip as I adjusted.

And there I was, hidden in the back of the library, fingering myself in public like I had completely lost my mind.

I decided that this could get crazier. 

So with my free hand, I lifted my skirt.

If I got caught, that was it. There would be no explaining my way out of it. They’d find me leaning back against the shelf in the middle of the aisle, tits spilling out of my dress, skirt bunched around my hips, thong pulled aside, bush out, trying not to moan in the religion section.

Oh… I was going to come so fast.

The thought barely had time to finish before the pressure started building. Quick. Too quick. Heat rushed up through me, overwhelming, and my knees weakened.

I slipped my fingers out, focusing completely on my clit.

And then it smacked into me quick after that. Like headlights around a blind corner. 

My skirt fell back down, and my hand flew over my mouth, blocking the noises coming from me.

Not a sound.

Do not make a sound, Shiori.

My legs trembled. My knees knocked together, and my eyes went wide as it kept rolling through me. But I didn’t stop. My other hand stayed busy, dragging out every last bit of euphoria like my clit hadn’t already gotten more than its share of pleasure today.

This was… 

So…

Great.

For a second, my muscles went weak and I almost dropped right there. I grabbed the shelf, fingers digging into the wood, and held myself up while my whole body shook. Between my thighs, I was a complete mess, so wet it was humiliating.

After what was easily an entire minute, I came down, dizzy, breathless, and way too aware of how bad this could have gone. I was honestly shocked no one had heard the moans I’d barely managed to smother behind my palm.

Footsteps.

Good job, Shiori. You jinxed it.

I moved so fast I almost slapped myself in the chest trying to shove my boobs back into my bra. Straps up. Neckline fixed. Skirt straight. I spun towards the shelf like I had been innocently browsing the whole time and grabbed the first book my hand landed on.

Of course.

Finding God in a Distracted World.

Again.

A guy stopped at the end of the aisle, staring.

Look away. 

Please look away.

I opened the book to a random page and stared at it, deeply invested in spiritual discipline.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I turned towards him. Slow. Painfully slow. Somewhere a hinge should’ve creaked. Haunted doll vibes. 

“Uh… yeah. Why?” I asked, my voice jumping about three octaves higher than normal.

His gaze flicked away from my face, then back, then away. “You’re very pretty—I mean red.”

I blinked as his attention dipped for a brief moment.

The guy’s face went redder than mine—probably—before he turned and walked away. Total fast walk, too.

Huh.

I had been two seconds from dying of embarrassment, but that interaction was so awkward it knocked that feeling right out of me.

Then I glanced down and saw what had flustered him.

Half of my left areola was out.

Uhhhh. 

So he had absolutely seen that.

Whatever.

So many people had already seen them online that freaking out over one awkward guy felt kind of ridiculous. Besides, he didn’t look familiar. If I was lucky, that meant he wasn’t in any of my classes, and I could simply pretend he had never existed.

I looked down at the book in my hand.

Oh no.

There was a wet smear on the cover… from my fingers.

I wiped it quickly against my dress and froze.

Now I couldn’t just put it back after that. I had standards. Weird standards. Flexible standards. But I wasn’t returning a damp library book to the shelf like some kind of monster. Since I had already defiled the sanctuary of literature, the least I could do was check the book out, take it back to my room, and sanitize it. 

Luckily, the library had self-checkout kiosks near the front desk, and that meant I could avoid making eye contact with another human being.

I scanned my student ID and tried to look calm. Someone who had come to the library for knowledge, and definitely not a girl who had just orgasmed over the idea of people seeing her do it.

The machine beeped, and the book scanned.

A student librarian walked by and stopped. “You’re a little red,” she said, eyeing me. “Are you okay? Don’t pass out on me.”

I held up the book because my mouth wanted to say unnecessary things. “Sometimes when I read the Lord’s words, I get overwhelmed by a—spiritual warmth.”

There was a pause. A very bad pause.

She nodded. “I’m an atheist, so I wouldn’t know.”

“That’s… nice,” I said, which seemed like it belonged in a different conversation.

I took my receipt, tucked the book against my chest, and nearly jogged towards the doors.

Halfway there, I looked down at the cover. “I hate you.”

The book, being a book, did not apologize.

I was going to post those pictures, log out of life for the rest of the night, and stare at the wall until my brain stopped replaying that conversation in high definition.

That interaction had been far worse than the nipple slip.

Submitted for image #2 of the August contest.

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Afternoon light spilled through the library window, warming Nicholas’s complexion as he sat opposite me, tapping his quill against the blank page. He appeared determined to defeat the assignment through concentration alone, though he had yet to dip the nib into the inkwell.

The crease between his brows deepened.

“At this rate, the parchment will have yellowed with age before you manage a single word.” I glanced up from my own work.

The tapping stopped. “I’m thinking.”

“So I gathered. You appear to be suffering terribly from the effort.” I tucked a loose strand of black hair behind one pointed ear.

He aimed a flat stare at me, which only made him more endearing. Irritation suited him. I wondered whether he took the same pleasure in observing me. I suspected he did. His attention strayed often enough when I was around.

Few humans held my interest beyond a passing curiosity. Most filled silence with meaningless words, defined themselves by what they hated, and hurried through their brief existence without accomplishing anything of consequence. 

Nicholas was different. He had no idea how rare it was to remain so enchanted by the world. The years had neither dulled his awe nor convinced him that wonder was something to outgrow. Every mystery captured him completely, and he pursued its answer with the same eagerness I had admired when we first met.

Until recently, my fondness for Nicholas had been entirely innocent. He was twenty when we met, and while he remained my student, I regarded him only with a mentor’s affection. Even after he left my classroom, I found him boyish, as I did most humans.

Then he stepped away from academics for two years. Such a brief absence should have felt like little more than a handful of days, yet I missed him. When he returned, much of the boyishness I remembered had disappeared. Nicholas had matured considerably, and my interest in him had taken a decidedly less innocent turn. 

I leaned forwards and folded my arms on the table, pressing my breasts together as my neckline dipped. His gaze followed the movement to the pale blue curve of my chest before snapping back to my face. 

“What troubles you?” I asked. “Why is my little birdie so sad?”

His cheeks reddened, and the grain of the table became fascinating. “Please stop calling me that.”

“No.”

“You’re cruel.”

“And yet you remain.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I don’t understand why, but I like how you tell me what’s going to happen.”

“I do. Your mother left when you were young, and now you seek affection from older women.”

“That was unnecessarily blunt.”

“It was also correct. You have told me your entire life story.”

He stared at me. “Is that an elf thing?”

“The bluntness?” I gave the question some thought. “Very much so, but this shouldn’t be news to you.” 

He shook his head and returned his focus to the parchment. His shoulders sagged with a long exhale. “How do you remember all of this? I was away from my studies for two years, and now it’s as if every lesson has vanished.”

“I remember what matters.”

He absorbed that in silence for a moment. “Right.”

“Correct.”

“You’re… incredibly strange.”

“And yet you continue seeking my company like an abandoned chicken.”

“A lost puppy,” he corrected. “The saying is ‘a lost puppy.’”

“Ah, yes. The small dog. What is that one saying? You are barking beneath the incorrect tree.”

His mouth fell open slightly. “You’ve lived among humans for nearly a decade. How are you still this terrible at our idioms? It’s ‘barking up the wrong tree.’” 

“I prefer my version. It is more logical.”

His eyes wandered below my collarbone once more and darted back to my face when he realized where he was looking. 

“Perhaps my breasts are interfering with your ability to think.”

He looked towards the window. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Humans lie with remarkable ease. Is it instinctive or part of your childhood education?”

“I heard you’re good at making portal runes,” he said, abandoning our previous subject with impressive speed.

“Good? Such a timid word. I am exceptional.”

“Can you truly see through them?” He shifted to the edge of his seat. “I heard some elven portals reveal the destination before anyone enters.” 

Adorable.

“Yes,” I replied. “Would you like me to show you? I have an entire book of them.”

Nicholas’s quill clattered onto the table. He shot to his feet and planted both palms against the wood. “Really?” His voice rang through the library.

“Yes, although preferably with less noise.”

Nicholas sank into his chair, more subdued. “Sorry.”

Hmm. It had been far too long since I allowed myself an indulgence. Few people ventured into this forgotten corner of the library, leaving me free to tease my favorite human without interruption.

Oh, this would be amusing.

I set the thick volume within his reach. “Page 26.”

Nicholas pulled it closer as though I had entrusted him with a sacred relic. He eased back the leather cover and turned the heavy pages one by one, scanning the symbols crowded across each. Upon reaching the page I had named, he tilted the open volume towards himself, leaving its contents hidden from my view. 

“There’s nothing here.”

I snapped my fingers.

The ink flared violet, washing his face in its glow as the blank parchment rippled into a living image. Nicholas’s entire body went rigid. His expression suggested he knew he should look away, but he could not bring himself to close the book. 

I allowed him several seconds to appreciate the material before interrupting him.

“Did you find it?”

He swallowed. “Page 26?”

“Yes. Mountains, clouds, perhaps a waterfall. Quite scenic.”

A blush crept up his neck, blooming across his cheeks. “There are no mountains.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very. There’s—”

“Ah.” I tapped one nail against the table. “I meant 126. Those are my lady parts.”

His palm smacked the book shut.

“You should open it again.”

Nicholas shook his head, but his fingers held the cover instead of releasing it. “No. That’s quite all right.”

Delivered without a trace of conviction.

I rose and climbed onto the table, crawling towards him on my hands and knees. I took my time, allowing him to grow thoroughly flustered before I reached him.

Nicholas glanced past me at the surrounding shelves. “What are you doing? We’re in the library.”

I slipped a finger beneath his chin and tipped his face upwards. His breath caught as I brought my lips within a whisper of his. 

“That is your problem, little birdie. You concern yourself far too much with what is happening around you.” My thumb swept across his lower lip. “But when I ask for your attention, you give me all of it. Do I have it now?”

His chin dipped once.

“Good. Once I am seated, open the book and use its portal to bring me to release. Satisfy me, and you may keep it.”

His eyes widened. “I… I get to keep it?”

“I will even leave the portal active.”

“And use it… whenever I want?”

Oh? The eagerness in his question caught me by surprise. Nicholas was usually far more restrained about revealing what he wanted. I had expected hesitation, perhaps even embarrassment, not such open delight at the prospect of having access to me.

“If you earn the privilege. You have five minutes.”

“Only five?”

“If you cannot satisfy me within five minutes, you certainly do not deserve unlimited access.” I released his chin and retreated across the table at an unhurried pace, holding his gaze until I eased into my chair.

I traced a finger along the lace at my neckline, tugged on the trim, and slowly pulled the fabric aside, baring one breast for him. “You may wish to hurry.”

Nicholas flipped through the book so quickly that the pages blurred. He passed the correct one, doubled back, and somehow missed it a second time. On his third attempt, he found it. 

He made certain no one was approaching from the nearby stairs before lowering the open volume beneath the table and settling it across his thighs, its pages angled towards him.

Only his fingertips passed through the portal at first. Its magic had warmed them, and their gentle heat sent a pleasant shiver through me as they glided between my lips, spreading the slickness his obvious attraction had coaxed from me. He parted me and froze, so captivated by what he found that he forgot his five minutes were already passing. 

“It’s… so… purple.” His gaze darted to mine, alarmed by his own words. “I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Do you truly have time to admire the color?”

He resumed his task. My sensitive nub was already swollen and ready for him. He eased its hood back and settled his thumb against the exposed tip, moving it in tight circles. His touch was far too deft for inexperience, stirring a pang of jealousy at the thought that I was not the first woman he had pleased. 

I might not be the first, but I would be the most memorable. I could promise that. 

His gaze met mine just as I bit down on my lower lip. And he promptly returned to the book.

After another minute, he spared the stairs one last wary glance and eased a finger inside me. A second followed, venturing deeper with each thrust as curiosity overtook what remained of his caution. He explored me through the page with such intense focus that he seemed to forget the rest of me was seated directly across from him, watching his every reaction. 

“Curl them.”

He obeyed.

“Right there.”

The motion ceased.

“That was praise, not permission to stop. Press and curl.”

He listened, and pleasure tugged at my eyelids, but I refused to close them. Watching his composure slowly unravel was nearly as satisfying as his touch. 

His fingertips stroked that sensitive place within me with growing insistence while his thumb circled above. He attempted to coordinate the two, but the rhythm soon became uneven as exploring inside me claimed more of his concentration. 

I sat back against the chair’s green cushions and opened my thighs, leaving him ample room. Hooking a finger beneath the other side of my dress, I drew the fabric over until my second breast spilled free. With both out, I cradled their weight upon my forearm and lifted them for his appreciation. Without so much as a touch, my nipples darkened and tightened under his gaze. Nicholas’s eyes flitted helplessly between my chest and the pages in his lap. It appeared I had given him too much to take in at once.

Heat rose into my cheeks as his fingers curled inside me. Every wet sound came twice: once between my thighs, then again from the open portal. 

“Well done.” The praise escaped on a quiet moan. “You are nearly there.”

I doubted he would succeed within five minutes, but denying either of us now would have been absurd. 

One more firm press and curl proved me very wrong.

Release dissolved the last of my composure. My thighs drew taut, and my body clenched around his fingers, holding them deep as pleasure swept up my spine. I pressed a palm over my mouth before my moans could escape into the library. Nicholas watched, unable to decide between my face and the breasts trembling upon my forearm with every wave. Nearly a minute passed before I recovered enough to declare it over. 

I let my arms fall, gathering myself for a moment as we stared at each other. 

A most satisfying outcome.

After granting him one final glimpse, I shifted the dress back into place. “You may remove your hand now.”

Nicholas blinked as though he had forgotten it was still there. “Oh. Sorry.” 

He withdrew it through the portal, snapped the book shut, and regarded the leather cover with appreciation. I stood and tucked my belongings beneath one arm. Nicholas made no attempt at leaving. The book rested rather strategically across his lap, no doubt concealing another sign of how thoroughly he had enjoyed himself. 

A night with me would come eventually. That had been decided. But first, I intended to see how much more teasing he could bear. 

I stepped behind him and bent until my lips brushed his ear. “We are still having lunch tomorrow, are we not?”

“Y-yes.”

“How reassuring.” My palm glided down his chest before I wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him against me. “Did you enjoy that?”

“Uh… yes.”

“And would you like more?”

His answer came a little faster this time. “Yes-please.”

“Good.” I tipped his head aside and closed my mouth over his neck. My canines pressed into his skin as I sucked, lingering until a bruise surfaced beneath my lips. I drew back with a faint pop. “Because now you are mine.”

“In… in what way?”

“Hmmm. Like a pet—”

“Professor,” Lurua said behind me.

Nicholas stiffened. 

I straightened and turned towards her, considerably less alarmed than Nicholas. “Ah. Yes. I am late for that meeting.”

She hovered by the shelves, her glare fixed upon the mark. “Should you be close with a student in that manner?”

“I have known Nicholas for seven years, and he stopped being my student many years ago.” I smoothed my dress. “Besides, what are they going to do? Fire me?”

Lurua pressed her lips into a thin line. “Probably not.”

“Then we should hurry. Thesira must be growing tired of waiting for us.” I headed towards the stairs, leaving Nicholas seated with his prize. 

I wondered how often he was going to look at that page.

I’d posted a few of those pictures, and to say they blew up was an understatement.

My phone kept vibrating as I sat down in class.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

The site had just released an app, so I downloaded it. It was kind of a pain, because obviously a nudie site wasn’t going to be on any app store, which meant I had to sideload an APK or whatever—it took me a whole extra two minutes, but I wanted to complain anyway.

Now my screen was a waterfall of notifications.

Comments. DMs. Likes. More comments. More DMs. People saying things I should not have been reading in class.

I had officially reached the stage of having too many messages to read. Which made me feel a little bad, because at first I’d been trying to heart comments or send quick thank-yous like a polite exhibitionist.

Exhibitionism.

That was the word I’d found online for the thrill I got from doing inappropriate things in a library. My kink had a name now, and that felt mildly validating. Apparently, a lot of people had the same urge. That yes, please, let strangers see me in the most exposed way possible urge.

Now I needed to figure out what I was going to do for my next photo shoot.

I felt eyes on me.

My attention drifted across the room and landed on a guy who jerked his head away so fast I was surprised his neck survived it. For half a second, I didn’t recognize him. He was just a quiet guy tucked off to the side by himself, trying way too hard to look as though he hadn’t been staring.

Then it hit me—

—the Library.

This school had thousands of students, and somehow, that guy was sitting in one of my classes.

I ignored him and listened to the lecture drag on forever while my brain checked out.

At least the teacher was handsome. Very handsome. He had the whole cliché slicked-back-hair thing going on, as if he should’ve been teaching philosophy from the corner of his desk. Saying vague things. Making every girl in class lean forward and pretend she’d suddenly discovered a passion for the meaning of life.

My eyes slipped sideways, and that guy was looking over at me again.

To be fair, I was wearing the strawberry bra today, so things were pushed up, and my T-shirt had enough cleavage to make eye contact difficult. He probably wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at my boobs.

Which were technically me.

Class ended, and I shoved my notebook into my bag, ready to escape. I hadn’t slept well last night, and I was going to resume normal programming by collapsing on my bed and rotting there for a while.

I’d almost made it to the door when the teacher called me over.

Ugh.

What was this going to be about? Likely the paper I’d submitted seconds before the deadline.

I walked towards his desk and stopped in front of him with my bag hugged to my side.

“Miss Nishikawa, amazing work on that last assignment,” he said, folding his arms. “I was impressed.” 

Really? 

“Uh.” I glanced at the exit and back at him. “Thanks.” 

I loved getting compliments online, but in person, I didn’t know how to process them.

“I’m excited to see what you do with the next one. You have a unique way of writing.”

I nodded. “I appreciate that, Mr. Baldwin.”

His eyes were doing their absolute best to stay on my face. He was much taller than me, so he had a decent excuse. Looking down was sort of required. But there was a strain in his attention, small but obvious once I noticed it.

And I couldn’t lie. I kind of liked that he had to control himself. That serious face, with struggle behind it, was cute. It made me want to test his willpower even more.

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Was that all?”

“Yes. Sorry for keeping you.” He circled his desk and sat down. “Have a good day.”

I think he got flustered there. 

“You too,” I mumbled, and immediately scurried towards the door.

It was a good thing I was awkward, because if I wasn’t, I might have flirted with him a bit. And no doubt humiliated myself in the process.

No. I shouldn’t be humoring that in my head. It was very against school policy for a student and a teacher to look like something was going on. That could ruin his career, even if it was only an allegation.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, the guy from class was there, talking to himself. 

When he saw me, he jumped and yanked a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “Hey… I’m new around here—” He stopped, shoved it towards me. “We have three classes together, and I just wanted to say if you ever need notes, you can send me a message. It’s fine if not. I just wanted to offer. Okay. Bye.”

Then he disappeared down the hall, sliding sideways between people who were walking too slowly.

I stared after him.

Was he trying to hang out with me? That was all over the place, but I was pretty sure that had been the signal. It clearly wasn’t about notes. Nobody got that nervous over notes.

The paper went into the pocket of my jeans. 

I wouldn’t mind having a few friends here. But I wasn’t sure he was looking for a friend. Or maybe I was being full of myself, which was also possible. He wasn’t ugly or anything. He was just very average, and on top of that, I wasn’t looking to date anyone right now anyway. I had thousands of adoring fans online to attend to. 

Wait… he was in three of my classes?

Great.

My phone vibrated with a delivery notification.

Oh good.

I made my way to the mailroom, handed over my ID, and waited while the person behind the counter disappeared into the back. A moment later, they returned with my package, and once the box was in my hands, I hurried to my dorm.

A few guys’ eyes dipped on my way, and I held in a smile. I was noticing the staring more now. At first, I thought it was because I’d been shedding my hoodie more often, but maybe I’d just been completely unaware that guys had been looking at me before.

I’d always been too busy for boys in the past… I mean, I was still too busy.

When I reached the room, Juliana was already leaving.

“Oh, hey, Bunny. So I’m going to be gone for a few days,” she said, walking down the hall before she finished the sentence, her luggage bouncing against her leg.

Sometimes, it felt like I didn’t have a roommate—she was always out doing something. That wasn’t exactly a bad thing. I could masturbate in peace without worrying about the door flying open at the worst possible time. But it also made me feel like a loser because I never had plans. 

The second I got inside, I went straight to ripping the box open. I fought with the tape for a minute before grabbing scissors, because apparently I had zero upper-body strength. 

Once I got it open, I took out the black bunny mask.

It was basically a masquerade mask with ears, and it was actually really pretty. Lace ran along the edges. It looked handmade too, as though someone had spent hours getting every little piece right.

I walked over to Juliana’s mirror and held it up to my face.

Oh, I was definitely taking pictures in this. Guys were going to love this, and now I could post more above-the-neck shots without showing my whole face.

It hid enough.

Probably.

I tossed the mask onto my bed and closed the blinds, though the afternoon sun still slipped through. My shirt, bra, jeans, and thong went flying in completely different directions. Then I pulled an oversized shirt over my head, skipped underwear, dropped onto the mattress, and opened my laptop.

My nails clicked over the keys as I logged in.

I froze.

Whoa…

Overnight, I’d jumped to rank 767. That was almost sixty spots in twenty-four hours, and I hadn’t even posted anything that crazy yet. My nipples were beating girls who were showing everything in 8K. 

Maybe it was time to move the camera lower.

I did shave yesterday.

My eyes caught the Go Live button at the top of my home page.

Hmmmm.

How many followers did I have online right now?

I’d only recently found out about this metric. They didn’t count towards rank, since that was based on post engagement, so the site didn’t shove the number in your face. You had to poke around your profile to find it.

2,742 followers.

Again, why didn’t I have 2,742 likes if all of you were following me?

Rude.

Three hundred thirty-six of my followers were online. 

My finger hovered over the Go Live button… I pressed it. 

A setup screen opened first, giving me time to get situated before I accidentally broadcast myself looking confused.

I took my glasses off first, then gathered my hair into a high ponytail to get it out of the way. Once it was secure, I pulled the mask down over my face. I adjusted the band until it sat right and angled the laptop camera so it showed me from the torso up.

Baby steps—I needed to warm myself up before I went for the full view.

I let out a breath and tapped Start.

The little green dot blinked on at the top of the screen.

Online.

I stared at my own preview, trying to decide if the bunny mask made me look ridiculous or sexy.

It took a bit, but people started coming in.

“Hello,” I said, too quiet. I cleared my throat and leaned closer to the laptop. “Hi. Um… welcome.”

A few messages popped up almost right on top of each other.

“🐰 I love the ears.”

“So sexy.”

“Bunnymilk! Hi 👋”

“Whoaaaaa. Following.”

The chat was moving fast, too fast for my eyes to catch every word.

“Yes, it’s a bunny mask,” I said, touching the lace. “We have a theme here.”

More messages rolled in.

“No, I’m not taking it off. That would defeat the purpose.”

Of course that was the first thing they asked for. I’d been online for maybe two minutes, and already their patience was lacking.

Someone sent a string of heart emojis.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

The viewer count jumped again.

I swallowed and sat up straighter.

“Okay,” I said. “So… hi. I’ve never done this before, which I’m sure is incredibly obvious, but please pretend it’s cute.”

By the time the counter hit 150 viewers, my nerves had chilled out.

Which was not what I’d expected. I thought more people watching would make me panic harder, but somehow, the number climbing made it feel less personal. Less like one person staring at me, and more like a crowd I didn’t have to look in the eye.

Maybe I should show a little skin.

I caught the hem of my shirt and lifted it slowly, watching the preview as the fabric climbed higher. The first peek of underboob appeared on-screen, and chat reacted immediately.

Eggplant emojis. Fire emojis. Several comments that were very R-rated. 

“Wow,” I muttered. “You all are ridiculous.” 

I used the shirt to scoop my boobs up, lifting them for the camera before letting the fabric slide away. They dropped out from underneath with a bounce that looked way more dramatic on video than in person.

“Titty drop 10/10 🥵”

I tugged the shirt over my head quickly after that. It caught on the mask for one horrifying second. I froze halfway out of it, trapped in cotton, before I managed to yank it free and fling it off to the side.

And then I sat back, visible from the waist up.

The guys lost whatever tiny amount of self-control they had.

“So fuckable.”

“God, I want to bury my face between those.”

“Jiggle them!”

My face burned under the mask, but I grabbed them anyway and gave them a small jiggle.

They went insane.

“Fuck, they’re so firm. Are they real?”

I nodded. “All natural.”

More messages flooded in.

“Need a glass of that milk 🥛”

Wow.

“Goddamn, what a rack.”

“I would cum all over those 💦💦💦💦💦”

“Push them together baby.”

I glanced at the viewer count again. It had climbed over four hundred… 

Four hundred people were watching me sit on my bed in a bunny mask, naked.

I inched forward, tucked my arms in, and squished them together until they filled the whole screen. Boobs, nipples, barely any room left for anything else.

“Look at those big puffy nipples!!!!!!”

I let them take it all in before shifting forwards until only one nipple remained in the frame. I reached up, pinched the nub between my fingers, and gave it a twist. On screen, in full close-up, they watched it harden.

“Fuck, those little bumps.”

“Holy shit 🥵*”*

I bit my lip, trying not to smile too hard. They were being dirty, and I loved it. I loved it more than I should have, which only made the rush in my chest stronger.

“Do you…” I paused, suddenly shy again. “Do you guys want to see my… pussy?” I didn’t think I’d ever said that last word out loud before.

A wall of enthusiastic yeses followed.

I moved the laptop to the edge of the bed, settled with my back on the wall, and slowly opened my legs. The chat kept moving, but without my glasses, I couldn’t see a single thing they were saying.

But it wasn’t hard to imagine what was being typed.

I spread my legs a little wider, giving them the whole view. No teasing or hiding. Just me on their screens, exposed in a way that fluttered my heart.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I bent forward.

“Needs a creampie leaking out.”

“Porn star pussy.”

What did that even mean?

“Beautiful lips.”

“That hole gotta be tight. It’s so small.”

That one caused me to blush.

I leaned back, and my fingers slid lower, rubbing over my clit while the chat blurred from all the comments pouring in.

My pace picked up as I traded slow circles for a steadier rhythm. A breathy moan escaped me as my other hand came up to cup my boob, squeezing as I rubbed harder. Every so often, my touch dipped, gathering the wetness leaking from me before dragging it up to my clit.

It was getting a bit messy down there, and I made it worse. Or better. I was spreading the slickness over myself for the camera, making sure there was no way they could miss how drenched I was.

I brought the laptop closer and tilted the screen lower until the camera pointed right between my legs. My thighs were wide, my body open, every private inch of me online.

Was I embarrassed?

Absolutely.

The shame made the thrill land harder. Hundreds of men were seeing me up close, taking in everything, and the thought felt so naughty I could barely stand it. Some of them were definitely touching themselves. They had to be. They were probably watching me and imagining their hands there. Their mouths. Themselves inside me.

I decided to go inside. Because why not at this point?

The screen showed nothing but the bright pink of me stretching around my finger as it slipped inside. I eased a second in beside it and curled them both, my head falling back against the cold wall the instant I found the spot.

Right… I should… say stuff…

“It feels so good, guys,” I said, barely getting the words out. “So good.”

My eyes fell shut. 

“I’m close,” I whimpered. “I… I hope you’re all… stroking right now…”

It hit.

My thighs shook, and a moan came out way too loud. Loud enough that some tiny, responsible part of me worried about people hearing through the wall, but then the explosion in my brain swallowed that thought whole. I clenched hard around my fingers, riding it until I couldn’t keep them inside anymore. They slipped out, and I finished the orgasm with my very sensitive clit.

I was soaked. Wetter than the library. Way wetter.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about all those men on the other side of the screen, seeing me fall apart while they jerked themselves off. The thought kept me going, pulling little aftershocks out of me. By the time I finally came down, they’d had a good five minutes to finish with me.

A lot of them had for sure taken screenshots.

My blanket was damp… Sometimes I wished I didn’t have a river coming out of me every time I got myself off.

I folded my shaky legs under me and moved the laptop onto my lap. Everyone was worshiping me while I sat there flushed and breathy. People all over the world were here. Flag emojis kept popping up between the comments, each one marking some distant place where a stranger was cheering me on.

WHAT.

The viewer count was over six thousand.

Six thousand people were watching me???

My stomach dropped. They had all seen me play with myself. All of them. Every sound, every close-up, every embarrassing second of me completely losing my mind on camera.

“You all are wild… I have school stuff I need to get done, so that’s it,” I said, suddenly very aware of my nervous voice now that the horny had packed up and abandoned me.

I hit Disconnect and slapped the laptop shut, keeping my palm pressed against the top like the comments might force it back open.

Six thousand people…

Maybe I needed a mask that covered more.

My eyes eased open, a hum slipping from my throat before I even understood why. 

The blankets twisted beneath my fingers as I lay on my side, my breath catching when Mason rubbed himself between my lips from behind. 

Then he pressed in, the thick head of his cock taking a second to loosen me before sinking inside. 

When he made it halfway, my eyes flew open.

Oh… big sore. 

But did I stop him?

Nope—I had agreed to be a toy. And maybe it had been a joke in the heat of the moment yesterday, but apparently the joke had carried over into the morning. 

I wasn’t complaining, that was for sure. 

My ass pushed back against him, and Mason groaned, his hand on my hip as he went deeper, my body struggling around him.

“This shit’s so tight,” Mason mumbled. “Fuck.”

Mason bottomed out and stayed there for a minute. His grip dug into my hip, and then he started fucking me for real, dragging moans out of my mouth with every thrust. My eyes fell shut again, my achy walls holding on for dear life. 

The soreness didn’t ruin it. It made it better. Made me very aware of every inch of him.

His mouth brushed my ear.  “Good morning.”

“G-good morning.”

“Does that feel good?”

I nodded, my cheek rubbing the pillow. “So good.”

He pushed me onto my stomach and climbed over me, his thighs bracketing mine as he settled his weight above me. His cock slid in easier this time, and then he was using me again. Each drive shoved me into the mattress, my whole body bouncing under him, my ass jiggling with every clap. 

I bit the sheet, trying to muffle the helpless sounds spilling out of me. 

It hurt a little—it also felt incredible.

“God, your ass is a fucking masterpiece,” he said, stopping long enough to slap it before grabbing both cheeks and ramming into me.

Wet noises filled the room, each one making it harder to ignore how turned on I was for him.

“You like that?” Mason asked, his voice rough. “You’re fucking soaked.”

“I do,” I whimpered. “So much.”

His palm came down on the back of my head, pressing my face against the mattress. The bedframe rocked beneath us, and every sound that escaped me got absorbed by the sheets.

He stopped without warning and rolled onto his back beside me.

I glanced over through half-open eyes. His cock pointed towards the ceiling, the tip giving one small twitch when my attention landed on it.

Mason patted his thigh.

I climbed over him slowly, my legs shaky as I settled above his hips. I reached between us, wrapped my fingers around his dick, and guided the head to my entrance. The moment I had him lined up, his hands clamped onto my hips.

Then he pulled me down.

A gasp tore out of me as he filled me in one rush, forcing my pussy to take him before I had time to brace. My ass smacked his thighs, and the impact sent a tremble through me. 

He… was… so deep.

The stretch was incredible, every inch pushing so far inside me it was overwhelming. It felt impossible, like he was reaching somewhere near my belly button, and that thought alone melted my brain. 

His hands came up to cup my tits, his fingers finding my nipples, pinching, tugging them until the brown darkened for him.

I planted my palms on his chest and leaned into the rhythm, my tits hanging between my arms as I moved faster. Every drop of my hips sent them bouncing.

This was great. Sex was great. Truly life-changing, actually. 

Ten out of ten.

So glad Liam had left me with Mason.

I was definitely going to be a slut. There was no way around it anymore. This was too much fun, and I already wanted more. More hands. More mouths. More cock. Different sizes, different shapes, different ways of being filled.

Mason slapped both cheeks and held on. “Damn, Ava. Ride that dick.” 

So I did.

I picked up speed, sweat gathering across my skin, the morning light coming through Mason’s window making me glow.

This was the most exercise I’d had in months.

“Chill,” Mason said with a smirk. “You’re gonna make me nut.”

My hips dropped harder. “Maybe,” I said, breathless and smiling. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.” 

“Yeah?” His voice was strained in that way that told me he was close. “You want it?”

My face scrunched as that pressure built low inside me. “Yes.” 

“You want me to breed you, don’t you?”

I nodded, biting my lip.

“Say it in Portuguese.”

I tilted farther forward. “Me deixa grávida.” 

“You have such a sexy voice,” Mason groaned. “Oh fuck—”

Mason’s big hands locked around my waist like I was a little doll he could put wherever he wanted, and yanked me down. I smacked against him as he buried himself inside me, and his cock jerked, each hot pulse kicking deep enough to make my head tip back and my thoughts blur.

The thick head kept pressing that sensitive spot, grinding there as he came. He was so far inside me that the breeding talk stopped feeling like dirty talk.

Then the stretch tipped me over.

“Oh my god,” I cried out way too loud.

It was such a wild sensation, his dick throbbing inside me while my walls clenched around him, both of us caught in it and dragging each other’s orgasms out longer. My nails dug into his chest, and my eyes kept fluttering no matter how much I tried to focus.

“Fuck, this pussy is so good,” Mason said, as if he couldn’t take it. “I’m going to be fucking you so much.”

I mumbled something that probably wasn’t words, too busy riding out the last shivery seconds of my orgasm.

Once we both caught our breath, I crawled off him and collapsed onto the bed. The blonde ends of my hair fanned across the sheets, and my legs fell open, limp.

I think I’d had almost seven orgasms in less than twenty-four hours, and my brain was just as worn out as the rest of me.

Mason rubbed my thigh. “How does that pussy feel?”

“Sore—very sore.”

“Good,” Mason said, hopping out of bed as though he’d taken a nap and not completely wrecked me. “Do you want breakfast, or do you want to go home now?”

“I need to get back before my auntie starts worrying.”

“Aight.” He scooped a pair of gym shorts and a tank top off the floor and got dressed, leaving the bedroom door cracked open.

I started to get up before I remembered he’d come in me. Or, more accurately, before my body reminded me—warmth leaking down my thighs and onto Mason’s blanket.

Awesome.

I scurried to the bathroom and jumped into the oversized shower, rinsing off the sweat and cleaning the mess between my legs. How Mason was still producing cum was beyond me. He’d fucked me three more times before I passed out, and somehow, this morning, his balls were acting like that never happened. 

My yellow bikini was sitting on the sink counter, and I put it on, but my dress had vanished.

First, I searched the bathroom for it because I was pretty sure I’d brought it in here last night… 

When I gave up, I checked myself in the mirror.

My hair was a disaster.

I opened a few drawers, found a comb, and dragged it through the worst of it, trying to look like I didn’t just have rough sex. Well, for most people, that probably wasn’t rough. But I had a few bruises on my ass and boobs from recent activities, and for some reason, noticing them made me proud.

Like I’d done a good job.

Which was probably weird.

Eventually, I made my way to the kitchen. Mason was at the counter, crunching cereal and scrolling through his phone without a care in the world. Beyond him, the ocean flashed bright through the windows. 

“Do you know where my dress is?” I asked, looking past him. “It’s so nice out.” 

He did have a beautiful view. 

“It’s in my car.” Mason didn’t even look guilty.

I blinked. “Why?”

“I want you to ride home in that.” He lifted another spoonful of cereal. “You can put it on when we get there.” Then he slid the spoon into his mouth.

“Okay…”

This man could not get enough of me. You’d think after all the sex, the novelty would’ve worn off a little.

Apparently not.

Mason finished eating and grabbed his keys. I got my bag from the living room, and we climbed into Mason’s ridiculous two-seat sports car parked outside. He sped down the road as though speeding tickets were another subscription he paid for.

We had barely made it a mile before Mason glanced over at me. “Pull the top to the side.”

I just obeyed, like somewhere along the way, doing whatever Mason said had become my purpose. 

The fabric slipped aside, leaving my soft nipples out in the open, plain as day. I told myself it was fine. His windows were tinted so dark nobody could really see in.

He lowered the window.

“Mason.”

He didn’t answer. He only eased us up beside a lifted white truck at the stoplight, one of those massive things where the driver sat high enough to see straight into the car.

My gaze flicked up.

The driver’s eyes dropped. 

There was no pretending otherwise. That man had a front-row seat to my boobs, and judging by the way his mouth parted, he was very much enjoying the view.

Heat rushed through my cheeks but I didn’t cover myself.

I faced the windshield instead, sitting there with my top pulled aside while Mason’s lips curled as if this was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

Mason cranked the AC on high, and cold air rushed over my nipples, making them harden almost instantly. Their darker color stood out against my skin, leaving me even more embarrassed. 

The light changed, and he took off.

My hands stayed in my lap.

We stopped at a few more lights after that. A few more cars. A few more trucks saw.

I kept my eyes straight ahead, because being sober made the whole flashing thing way harder. When I was high, I could giggle my way through it and pretend it was funny.

Now it was real. Very real, and very public.

Every engine rumbling beside us sounded too close. Every shadow behind another driver’s window seemed aimed at me. Every red light dragged on forever while I sat burning alive in Mason’s passenger seat, even with the AC blasting cold air over my skin.

“Holy shit,” someone said before the traffic moved.

Halfway to my house, Mason’s palm slid over my thigh. I tensed before he even touched the fabric. He pushed my leg wider, hooked the edge of my bikini bottoms and dragged it aside until I was exposed.

“Mason,” I whispered. “Don’t get me arrested.”

The last thing I needed was a cop stopping next to us. 

Of course, he didn’t say anything.

At the next stop, a black SUV pulled up beside us, and my stomach twisted. I couldn’t tell if the driver could actually see below my waist or if my panic was filling in the blanks. 

The guy leaned out his open window and whistled before traffic moved again.

I hadn’t been staring directly at anyone’s reaction, but I couldn’t pretend it hadn’t turned me on. I’d been horny since hitting that weed pen yesterday, and apparently my hormones had decided I wasn’t done being generous to the morning commuters.

Hopefully, I’d made a few guys’ mornings a little better.

By the time we reached my house, the panic had dulled into acceptance. Fun even. And I already knew I was going to need to get myself off later.

Again… did I have a problem?

He stopped in front of the garage, shifted into park, and ran his hand over my thigh.

“Anyone home right now?” Mason asked.

“No. My aunt’s car’s gone.”

“Good.” He tugged his shorts down, flopping himself out. “Suck me off before you go.”

I paused.

What?

How was this man still horny?

“You’re serious?”

“Very.”

I mean… 

Why not at this point?

I leaned over the console and took him into my mouth, his cock already thickening on my tongue. I swirled over the tip, tasting myself on him, which really shouldn’t have surprised me. His hand sat on my head, not forcing me, just keeping me there as I bobbed faster, trying to get him off before Renee’s car showed up in the driveway.

Mason reached over and grabbed one cheek of my ass. I wiggled it for him, knowing it made him smile even though I couldn’t see his face. He smacked it once, then squeezed, his fingertips digging in.

After a bit, he drifted up my side and tugged both knots loose on my top, because having my boobs hanging out still wasn’t enough. My bikini fell off completely before his palm returned to my head. 

I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked fast, my mouth sealing around the head as I sucked harder. Hard enough that my cheeks hollowed, my tongue pressed flat. It took a little under ten minutes before he finished, the salty tang hitting my tongue while I kept going, making sure I got every bit of it. When I pulled away, there was nothing left on him but my drool, which I wiped off with my forearm.

He patted my hair. “Good girl—I’ll talk to you later.”

Mason reached behind his seat, grabbed my dress, and handed it over. I took it and snatched up my bikini top, sliding the bottoms into place. 

“Well,” I said, clutching my stuff. “Thanks for taking me home… bye.”

I climbed out before he could answer, shut the door, and was halfway to jogging by the time I reached the porch. I didn’t even bother putting the dress or top on. My time was limited, and Renee was going to be home soon since she didn’t work today. She was probably out at the grocery store. 

The second I got inside, I bolted to my room and got dressed. On the way out, I detoured through the kitchen, chugged three bottles of water like I’d been stranded in the desert, and five minutes later, I was in my car, reversing out of the driveway. 

First stop: the drugstore.

Because there was no way I was tempting fate. Not after how many times those guys had finished inside me.

Morning-after pill.

Immediately.

Submitted for image #16 of the July contest.

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“Where are we going?” Dali asked, skipping ahead with her hands tucked behind her.

I shrugged. “To the house?”

Dali had one hell of a booty, which did a lot to improve my opinion of her absurd walking pace. What she considered a casual stroll was basically a jog for everyone else. I had much longer legs, and somehow I was the one trying to keep up.

She spun around and kept moving backward, grinning at me. “And what are we doing there?”

No comment. 

“Or we could meet up with Nikki,” I said. “The bars near here are probably still open.”   

Dali’s bottom lip pushed out before she faced forward, her sleeves fanning in the wind. “You always want to hang out with Nikki.”

Her dress was—interesting. Bright colors and sheer mesh made up the outfit, while her star earrings swung with every step. She looked like a stained-glass butterfly that had been released outside an EDM venue. More fabric hung from her wrists than covered the rest of her, with nipple pasties and a thong doing most of the actual work.

Hot, don’t get me wrong, but also a little ridiculous.

If we returned now, we’d end up doing things Nikki wouldn’t be happy about. I owed her at least one honest attempt at resisting before I completely folded like a lawn chair. 

I huffed. “She’s your best friend.”

She had nothing to say to that, and we joined the flow of people heading toward the parking lots.

The festival was still raging behind us. Bass rolled through the asphalt, vibrating beneath my shoes as lasers swept across the sky. Giant LED screens flashed pink, blue, and acid green, throwing bursts of color over everyone leaving. Security funneled us between metal barricades, shoulder to shoulder with the crowd. Beyond them, rows of headlights stretched across the dark parking lot.

A couple a few yards ahead held hands, their arms swinging between them. Dali watched until the crowd closed around them and carried them out of sight.

Dali’s black hair fell across her face as she spoke over one shoulder. “Sure. But whenever Nikki’s here, she’s the one you want to hang out with.”

I frowned. “You invited her on this trip.”

Dali pivoted and fell into step beside me, close enough that her fingers brushed mine. “So, if I’d asked you to come with just me, you would’ve?” Her pinky curled around mine so lightly I almost missed it.

I threw both hands up as I answered, breaking the contact before I realized what she was doing. “I’m literally here because of you. You wanted to go to this EDM thing or whatever.” I pointed at my ear. “I sacrificed most of my hearing for you. That’s basically love.”

Dammit. That seemed like I was rejecting her, didn’t it?

“Then let’s go to the house and cuddle.” She lifted her arms, flapping her sleeves, preparing for takeoff. “And I need food that doesn’t cost fifty dollars for a cheeseburger.”

“You plannin’ to walk there or fly?”

Her lips flattened, trying not to laugh. “Shut up, Zach.”

“I’m serious. One strong breeze, and you’re gone.”

“You better catch me.” She bumped her shoulder against mine.

“I’ll do my best.”

The house had been Nikki’s idea because hotels were “boring” and “not a vibe,” which meant spending more money on a rental with a hot tub nobody had used yet. I hadn’t fought her too hard. The hotel plan would’ve put me in a room with Nikki’s boyfriend while she and Dali shared the other one, and I was only willing to suffer so much in the name of saving money. If I had to hear Ken Doll say “bro” one more time while readjusting his backward hat, I was going to jump in front of a bus.

I ordered us a rideshare. It was technically within walking distance, but after spending hours on our feet, paying for the ride felt justified.

We’d left early to beat the end-of-night stampede, which helped, but traffic still crawled. Brake lights washed the windshield red while Dali tugged at the fishnets on her thighs and reminded me every three minutes that she was starving.

When she went quiet, I knew whatever came out of her mouth next would be random and slightly over-thought.

“You never called me Princess today.”

“You know why.”

“Okay.” She turned toward the window, her voice painfully flat.

My gaze met the driver’s in the rearview mirror and he immediately focused on the road.

This pet name was a drug to this girl. 

“Please don’t be mad.” I lowered my voice. “Princess.”

I didn’t know why that shit embarrassed me so much.

“That sounded fake, but I’ll take it.”

She got over it in record time and launched into a rant about how expensive food had gotten.

By the time we got to the house, my head was against the window, and I could barely keep my eyes open. I mumbled my thanks to the driver and climbed out, but Dali was already racing toward the front door before both my feet hit the driveway.

She reached the keypad first and began punching in the code.

Wrong.

Wrong again.

The third attempt was somehow even worse.

I nudged her out of the way with my hip and entered it myself.

Dali gave me an innocent smile. “I was about to get it.”

“Mhm.”

The second the door clicked shut behind us, she took off towards my room.

“I’m taking a shower,” she called, speeding up over the last few steps.

I lifted a hand. “Wait—”

Too late. 

She disappeared before I could finish. Nikki was going to be pissed if she came home and found Dali using my shower. Dali didn’t seem concerned. She rarely was. She blew through life doing whatever felt right in the moment and left everyone else scrambling.

I grabbed my sleepin’ clothes from my luggage and left her to the shower, heading for the bathroom down the hall. After a quick rinse, I tugged on a pair of gym shorts and collapsed shirtless across the bed, already halfway asleep.

Nearly forty minutes passed, and I wondered whether I should check on her. For all I knew, she could’ve slipped, knocked herself unconscious, or figured out how to drown while standing up.

As if on cue, the door flew open. Steam rolled out behind her, making the entrance feel unnecessarily dramatic. Of course, she had only a towel on. She swept her damp hair into a messy ponytail as she crossed the carpet and climbed onto the mattress, crawling toward me.

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” she asked as she straddled my lap and sat back, making herself comfortable.

I glanced at the towel. “You forgot your clothes.”

She clicked her tongue. “Answer the question.”

“You know Nikki’s gonna pout about it.”

Dali leaned in and kissed me, pulling away too quickly for me to return it. “Then we should fool around before they get here.” 

“Do you really want to tempt fate? They probably won’t be far behind us.”

She flopped onto the bed beside me and raised one foot, wiggling her toes. Each nail glowed a different neon shade. The tiny toe ring nearly did me in. She had to be wearing it on purpose. 

“It’d be a shame,” she said, “to go through all the trouble of painting them and not have any fun.”

She had such gorgeous feet. Honestly, they were the best I’d ever seen. Smooth skin, high arches, and perfectly shaped toes—the whole package set all my neurons firing. It made me anxious just looking at them.

“Stop blackmailing me.”

“Wut? This isn’t blackmail.” Her palm slid over the front of my shorts. “I make you come. I go back to my room, and you owe me one later. Everybody wins.” 

I sighed and got out of bed.

Dali’s smile widened—she knew she’d won.

And yeah, she had. She knew exactly where my self-control failed, and I wasn’t going to pretend I’d spent more than a millisecond considering it.

I locked the door and stood there with my hand on the knob, already picturing Nikki freezing me out for the next month.

Messing around with Dali always left me feeling guilty. Nikki had a boyfriend, but that didn’t make it any less shitty. Whenever Dali and I snuck off together, I might as well have been rubbing Nikki’s face in the fact that I’d rejected her and picked her best friend instead.

Hey, remember when I turned you down?

Well, surprise. I’m in love with Dali.

Not that I’d ever been dumb enough to say it out loud. Dali would grab that confession and run straight to the altar with it. By tomorrow, she’d be picking out wedding dresses, asking what color suit I wanted, and Nikki would have me blocked on every app known to man. 

So I kept my mouth shut and waited for Nikki to get serious with somebody else. Maybe then I could finally give Dali a real chance without feeling like an asshole when I touched her.

In hindsight, adding the whole “you’re a sister to me” line when I rejected Nikki two years ago had been a tactical mistake. As far as she was concerned, Dali was the little sister in our group, so noticing us flirt only made everything worse.

But I couldn’t time-travel, so here we were.

When I turned back, her towel was on the floor. She lay propped against the cushioned headboard, a pillow tucked behind her. The moment our eyes met, she let her legs fall open.

And there goes my self-control. 

I crossed the room faster than I meant to, dropped my shorts beside the mattress, and stopped at the edge of the bed, waiting for instructions. “What am I doing?” 

“That was quick.” Her gaze dropped to my cock, nearly hard. “Sit between my legs. I wanna try something.” 

I obeyed without arguing, climbed onto the mattress, and settled onto my heels between her thighs. Dali was entirely too pleased with how little effort it took to make me do what she wanted. She lifted her foot and ran her warm sole up the underside of my shaft in one slow pass.

“You know,” Dali said, her big toe brushing over the head, “you should’ve told me about this sooner.” 

My throat bobbed as she slid down, tracing the length of me until she settled at my balls. She applied a little pressure and began massaging them with her arch, watching closely for every reaction.

“Y-yeah?” I answered.

Her mouth curved. “Mhm.” Her foot glided upward. “I don’t know why you were so embarrassed to tell me.”

“Well…” I let out a breath. “Nikki found my browsing history once and spent years making fun of me.”

Dali shrugged. “Maybe that’s why she got friend-zoned.”

Worse. Sister-zoned. 

She trapped my cock between her soles and worked me in a slow rhythm. My hips twitched whenever she reached the top—especially when her toes lingered around the ridge, brushing over my slit and spreading the pre-cum there before stroking me again. 

“You have such a nice cock.” Dali was watching my face when I looked up. “I love having you inside me.”

“We could have sex,” I offered. “You don’t have to—”

Her foot drifted lower, and the moment she was at my balls, she pressed harder this time, cutting off the rest of my sentence.

Dali smirked. “Rain check.”

Her toes laced over my cock, their neon polish forming a rainbow as her pace quickened. One forearm stayed tucked beneath her tits, lifting and squeezing them together for me, while her free hand dropped between her thighs. Her fingertips parted her pink lips, gathered the wetness there, and carried it up to her clit. 

“You’re a pretty good multitasker.” I managed a weak laugh.

I leaned back on my palms and let myself stare. From here, I had all of her in view—her cute, heart-shaped face, tits almost too big for her tiny frame, nipples hard while she played with her pussy.

And right in the middle of it all, those gorgeous feet.

I was already close.

Dali was going to tease me relentlessly for finishing this soon. 

I could hold off a little longer… maybe.

“Are you about to empty those balls for me?” she asked, her teeth catching her bottom lip.

Never mind.

I nodded, too wound up to force anything past my throat.

“Good.” Her feet squeezed me tighter. “Give it all to me.”

That was enough. My cock pulsed between her soles, and she loosened her toes but kept rubbing me. The first shot roped across my lower stomach, warm on my skin. Another followed, then another, until the last few came in weaker jerks, spilling white over her feet. She stayed mesmerized by the way the head kept throbbing, even long after nothing else came out. 

“Fuck.” The word came out somewhere between a mumble and a groan. 

I stared down at her while I tried to catch my breath. She was so fucking beautiful. It was ridiculous how hard I’d fallen for her insane, hyperactive ass.

She stopped rubbing herself and gave me those fuck-me eyes. Apparently, she was already cashing in that rain check. 

My cock was still twitching when I grabbed her thighs and pulled her flat beneath me. I folded her legs toward her chest, then dragged my tip through her wet pussy, coating myself before easing inside. She took me inch by inch until I was completely buried, my balls pressed tight against her.

Dali locked her ankles behind me, getting the cum from her feet all over my lower back. She hooked an arm around my neck and yanked me closer for a kiss. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, rough and very impatient as her nails clawed at my shoulder blades.

I started fucking her, desperate to stay hard, but her moans and the feel of her stretched around my cock made that easy. What was left of my cum made it messier, every thrust landing with a wet clap that bounced off the walls.

“Don’t stop,” Dali breathed. “I’m close.”

“You gonna come for me?”

Dali nodded. “Yes,” she whimpered, her lashes fluttering as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “More… more talking.” 

“You looked so good today it drove me fucking insane. You know that?”

Her nails bit my skin.

“I spent the whole day thinking about getting you back here and fucking this puss—” 

Nikki’s loud laugh carried from somewhere near the front of the house.

Shit.

Dali’s eyes flew wide, and her palm covered her mouth. I lunged for the nightstand and killed the lamp, leaving the room dark. For a few seconds, I could barely see her beneath me, only hear the broken sounds she was trying to smother behind her palm.

Once my eyes adjusted, I could see her silhouette—her tits bouncing with each thrust, her legs tight around me while I fucked her as quietly as I could. I eased away enough for her to slip a hand between us, and her fingers found her clit, circling fast.

My lips touched her ear. “I want you to come for me, Princess.” 

She finished barely a second later, clenching me while a moan escaped through her palm. Her thighs shook at my sides, and I slowed to a deep grind, keeping myself buried until her body finally stopped trembling.

I brushed my cheek against the side of her head, kissing a path across her face until I found her lips.

When I broke away, she frowned up at me. “You’re not going to finish?” 

“I already did—and I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty tired.”

“Okayyyy,” she sang, drawing the word out. “You’re such an old man. It’s barely four in the morning.”

I kissed her forehead and pulled out, searching the dark until I found her towel. I cleaned myself first, then wiped away the mess between her legs. Of course, I saved her feet for last and took my time with them. 

There was no reason to rush that part.

Afterward, Dali slipped beneath the covers, and I jumped in beside her. Letting her sneak back to her room now seemed like a terrible idea. Footsteps had stopped outside our door, and I could already picture Nikki on the other side with her ear pressed to the wood.

“I don’t have any clothes in here,” Dali whispered. “That might be a problem.”

Beneath the blanket, I threaded my fingers through hers. “Stay.”

“Are you sure?” Her grip tightened. “You seemed pretty worried earlier.”

“I wouldn’t say I was worried.” I gave her hand a squeeze. “But yeah. I’m sure.”

Dali wasted no time curling up against my side, draping an arm across my stomach. “Nikki’s going to be mad.”

I stared at the ceiling. “She was always going to be mad about us. We might as well stop pretending there’s a version of this where she isn’t.”

Dali made it a solid minute before she broke the silence.

“I’m hungry.”

Okay. Yeah.

I’d taken too many classes.

Back home, I’d been smart in the laziest possible way. I barely paid attention, did homework five minutes before it was due, and walked out with As. 

Naturally, because I was stupid, I assumed college would work the same way.

It did not.

Calc II. Gen chem. Intro to symbolic logic. A freshman writing seminar that apparently believed twenty pages every two weeks was a normal thing to ask from human beings.

And Intermediate Japanese, because I’d gotten cocky. Because I could talk to my parents. Because I knew hiragana and katakana and enough kanji to embarrass myself with confidence. 

Apparently, my three-year-old writing skills were not the same thing as academic fluency.

Shocking.

This university was killing me.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, closed my laptop, and sank back in my computer chair. For a minute, I just spun in slow circles, staring up at the ceiling as if it might offer guidance. 

My toe caught the bed frame. 

Ittaaaaaaa.  

I whimpered and curled up in the chair.

There was almost no room in here. And that was, unfortunately, at least partly my fault.

Across the room, boxes sat piled around my bed, accusing me. My stuff had finally gotten here, which meant I no longer had an excuse. I still hadn’t unpacked any of it. Not even the cute bras and underwear I’d ordered, still sitting in their shipping bag.

It had been a whole month since I got here, and what had I done with all that fresh-start energy?

Stumbled into class with messy hair and a hoodie. Mostly.

I hadn’t even looked at that site again. Not once. Which was technically discipline, if you ignored every other part of my life currently falling apart. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to log back in. I did. Badly. I just also knew myself, and the second I opened that account, I was going to lose three hours reading comments and studying the vast biodiversity of human penises.

It was more or less a reward I was saving for myself.

Good job, Shiori. You survived college for one month. You may now go show your boobs to more strangers.

Ugh. 

I needed to get more work done before I let myself spiral into distraction. But if I spent one more hour staring at text I was going to lose my mind.

It was time to relax and have fun.

I glanced at the door.

Juliana was at the gym, and that meant I had time. She’d work out for, what, twenty minutes? Maybe thirty if she accidentally touched a dumbbell. After that, she’d spend two hours talking to everyone in a five-machine radius because she was there for the social ecosystem, not the health benefits.

I opened the laptop, clicked into my favorites, and pulled up the site.

Instantly, there they were. Pretty girls everywhere, all of them posed and clearly trying to outdo each other in the most naked way possible. I bet the top creators were competitive. There had to be drama. Secret feuds. Copycat accusations. Girls pretending not to care while absolutely caring.

I opened the ranking board out of curiosity.

Number two and number one had swapped places since the last time I looked. Miss Blonde American Apple Pie had lost her throne to another Blonde American Apple Pie.

They didn’t literally look the same. 

Their faces were different. Their bodies were different. But the style? Almost identical. Same soft lighting. Same glossy smile. Same lingerie choices often enough that, after a bit of profile snooping, I was convinced one of them was copying the other.

The new number one had more of a platinum-blonde thing going on, I guess.

Revolutionary.

I scrolled down fast, half-curious how deep the list went, half-expecting it to stretch into infinity. Gorgeous girl. Gorgeous girl. Absurdly gorgeous girl. Professional lighting. Perfect makeup. Thigh-highs. Lace. Oil.

Then I saw it.

My bunny drawing.

Way sooner than I should have.

The list only showed the top 1000, and there I was at 926, wedged between two women who looked as though they knew what they were doing.

My profile picture was just a bunny with an accidental mustache, and beside my media count, it said one.

One photo.

That was it.

One dark, grainy laptop-camera picture, and somehow I’d landed on the list.

And wow.

18k people had seen my nipples. That was a significant increase from the grand total of zero strangers who had seen them before.

441 likes. 92 comments.

I stared at the numbers, not sure if I was supposed to feel scared or happy. My brain moved straight past the existential crisis and landed on the real question. Why hadn’t more people liked it? Eighteen thousand views, and only 441 likes? They were already looking at my boobs. The least they could do was tap the heart.

No manners.

I felt that competitive spark, again. The same stupid one Juliana’s fairy-light forest had triggered when I first moved in. I’d mostly abandoned the room-decor rivalry after school hit me in the face with a Calc shovel, but this?

This seemed easier.

And free.

I wanted to see how far up the ranking I could get.

Not because I cared… obviously.

I clicked around, studying the trending tags as if this was homework and not me actively avoiding homework.

Big boobs.

Of course.

Big ass.

Cosplay.

Feet.

I stopped on that one for a second. I did have nice feet. Objectively. Probably. But feet seemed weirdly demanding. Painted nails. Soft skin. Good angles. The kind of close-up that would immediately expose the fact that my hands and feet both needed moisturizer.

Still, if I got one of those right, I was pretty sure it could shove me up the rankings.

Hmmm.

A later thing. Right now, I needed to focus on what I could actually do without turning this into a project.

The setting mattered. Lighting, background, the whole mood. A dorm room wall wasn’t exactly giving top creator vibes. I was sure there were people into the whole college-girl thing, but I wanted something a little more intentional.

More artful.

A ridiculous thought to have while taking thirst traps.

I wasn’t even going to look at the comments or DMs yet. First, I needed a location. Then I needed a picture. After that, I could come back, settle in, and let myself get distracted by horny guys with no impulse control.

There was a park nearby. Well, not a park exactly. More a hiking trail. Trees, dirt, mosquitoes. I could use a nice big tree as the background. Nature nudity seemed like a thing. A whole category, honestly.

The communal bathroom mirror could work too. Steam, towel, wet hair. Casual. And if someone came in, I could play it off. Girls took pictures there all the time. Mirror selfies, outfit checks, lip gloss touch-ups. Not naked or anything, but underwear happened. Sports bras. Towels tucked under armpits.

Library? That was an option, but that felt riskier. Eh, as long as I wasn’t doing anything insane—like wandering around naked between the biographies and the printers—I could probably pull off a mild photo.

Maybe an empty stairwell after dark. I could wear one of my new skirts, set my phone on the steps, hit record, and walk over it as though I was just passing by. I could wear my new strawberry thong too. And if I got daring, maybe I could even take it off for a few photos.

None of these were bad ideas. The last one required grooming downstairs, but I could do all of them sooner or later, assuming I didn’t die of embarrassment or get arrested for being stupid. 

But I had to pick one.

Ahhhhhh.

I hated making decisions. Big ones, small ones, questionable ones involving public nudity.

Five minutes passed.

Okay. Okay… the library.

What was the worst that could happen?

A lot, actually. So much. An academically devastating amount. I could get caught and kicked out of school. My parents wouldn’t believe it, though. They would just sit there, confused and polite, trying to understand how the school had mixed me up with another student.

Our Shiori?

No. Never. 

Not in a million years would they believe I was taking nudes in the college library. 

Well… time to get dressed.

I dropped onto the edge of my bed and tore through the plastic mailers. The strawberry-print bra came out first, followed by the matching thong folded beneath it. 

Both looked better in person than they had online, which was a relief. I had given them a fifty-fifty chance of showing up as complete garbage.

I jumped to my feet. My hoodie came off first, dragging my hair with it. My sweats followed, then my panties, everything landing on my bed in a messy pile.

The thong slid up my thighs, the thin white straps settling high on my hip bones. It was snug, but not in a bad way. More fitted than tight. Going up a size had been the correct decision because there was basically no stretch to the fabric. If I’d ordered my usual size, it’d definitely be getting returned.

The front dipped low enough that my bush showed over the top. I stared down at it for a second.

Nope.

I was not walking all the way to the showers just to shave right now. That was too much work. I’d shower later anyway, so I could deal with it then.

Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to take pictures that low.

Probably.

Depends on how much fun I was having. I was sure that site had plenty of guys who were very enthusiastic about hair.

I shrugged into the bra, reached behind myself, and clipped it into place.

A little adjusting, a little tugging before I stepped in front of Juliana’s magical fairy mirror.

And froze.

I looked down.

Boobs.

The website had not lied. It said push-up, and there was no false advertising that was for sure. There had been a non-padded version, but the padded one was actually available in my size, which basically never happened. 

I wasn’t going to send it back, but if I could go back in time, I would pick a different one.

My head tilted.

Cute, though.

I turned around to check the back, and the thong had vanished between my cheeks. The way it sat on my hips made my butt look extra nice, so I grabbed my phone and tried to take a few pictures—proof for later, when I needed to hype myself up.

Now I needed something easy to take pictures in.

I stood there with one hand under my chin, thinking way too hard about this.

Oh.

I literally bought a strappy white dress with strawberries on it. The berries were a tad different, but whatever. Might as well commit to the theme.

After opening three different bags that were not the dress, I finally found the right one. I tore it open and stepped into it, wiggling the dress up my waist.

That was… a lot of cleavage.

The skirt wasn’t much better. It landed around mid-thigh, which wasn’t scandalous, but it showed enough skin that I stood there for a second, trying to decide whether I looked cute or like I was tempting the wind into flashing my butt.

I walked back to the mirror and bent over.

Safe… mostly.

A strong breeze might be bad, but I was fine standing still.

My hands brushed the sides.

I froze.

No.

I slipped my fingers into the dress.

Yabai!

It had pockets.

I stared at myself in the mirror, hands buried in the fabric like I had just discovered fire. 

This was my new favorite dress. Also, I needed to go back online and buy more stuff from that company.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail, slid my glasses onto my nose, and tucked my phone and student ID into the pockets. The pockets. Still exciting. My feet went into my sandals, and I walked to the door with an uncharacteristic amount of confidence.

My hand hovered over the handle.

I had never worn anything this revealing before. And even though I knew I was a ten out of ten to most people, that didn’t stop my stomach from doing one tiny, nervous flip.

We got this, right?

I mean, I got this.

Why was I such a weirdo? I narrated everything in my head as if there was an audience watching my very boring life. I’d always done that. Talked to myself, too, which was normal.

I think.

As long as I didn’t start talking back to myself, there wasn’t a problem, right?

Out the door I went, letting it click shut behind me. I looked down both ends of the hallway, hoping there weren’t too many people.

There weren’t. But there were still a few.

Two girls glanced at me as I passed, but none of them said anything. Their eyes definitely darted down to my chest, and I caught a few subtle oh wow expressions.

I rode the elevator down and stepped outside, making my way across campus. It was beautiful out—sunny and blue skies—but the light was making me glow because I never went outside anymore. When I was younger, I was so tan from running around all day. Now I looked like I was about to crawl out of a static TV.

Tanning was on the menu when I got extra time.

A couple cute guys looked over as I passed. One of them almost wandered off the sidewalk before his friend grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

People were noticing. 

Not embarrassing at all.

I tugged lightly at the hem of my dress, very aware of the skin I was showing. Maybe I had gone a little overboard. This might not be a casual-library outfit.

But the library was already in front of me.

The sliding doors opened, and AC spilled over me from above, raising goosebumps along my arms and chest. I walked in, trying to act like a normal student. The librarian looked up. And stared. I gave her the smallest, most innocent smile ever and hurried towards the back.

It was dimmer back there. Colder, too. The aisle was almost empty, except for the faint click of someone typing on a laptop and the tired hum of fluorescent lights that should have been replaced by LEDs years ago. It had the normal old-paper smell I loved so much, with beautiful dark wood everywhere.

I drifted between the shelves and pulled out the first book my hand landed on—because holding a random hardcover made me look like I was here for an academic purpose.

Finding God in a Distracted World.

I glared at the title. “That feels targeted.”

The book went back onto the shelf where it belonged, far away from me and my current life choices.

My eyes peeked around the corner first, making sure no one was in the next aisle. 

Empty. 

I looked up at the ceiling, searching for cameras, anything that looked like it might be pointed at me.

Nothing.

My phone came out of my pocket and I opened the camera. My thumb hovered over the screen for a second before I took a breath and lifted it.

The first few were simple. Cleavage, dress, a small tilt of my chin. Ponytail sitting over my shoulder.

Not bad.

I leaned against the shelf and took a few more, attempting to look relaxed instead of like my heartbeat was trying to escape through my throat.

Then I dragged one strap down.

-click-

Another position.

-click-

My face warmed, but I kept going.

The spicier ones were harder. Every tiny sound made me freeze. A chair would scrape somewhere. The air vents would hiss overhead.

I kept checking the aisle.

Finally, I lowered both straps until the top of the dress tucked under the bra. I pressed my boobs together a little. Not that they needed the help. The cups had already shoved them up plenty.

I took a couple more shots before peeking around the edge of the shelf again.

Clear.

I bounced lightly on my toes, trying to get a natural-looking slip, but the bra held everything in place to my surprise. The one time I actually needed less support.

“Seriously?” I mumbled.

I moved it down myself, trying to make it look accidental.

The picture was good.

Not great.

That was the problem. A few of them were postable, sure, but none had made me stop and go, oh, that one. They were cute. They were very much evidence that I had lost my mind in the library.

But they were not wow.

I looked down at the bra and the curve of my skin.

Taking them out would be stupid, wouldn’t it? I mean, I had gotten plenty of pictures for this trip. There was no sense in risking getting caught my first time doing public photos.

Who was I kidding? The situation had passed stupid about twenty minutes ago. At this point, more insanity barely felt like an escalation. 

I adjusted the cups, scooping my boobs out as they spilled over the top. 

Yeah. This was going to be the winner.  

I lifted my phone and angled it, catching my lips at the top of the frame. They were one of my better features. Might as well use them. 

The dress sat low, the strawberry print bunched beneath my boobs, leaving them pushed up and very much on display. My nipples had gone so hard it was a little embarrassing, the soft brown shade deepening at the tips.

-click-

I stared at the picture for a second.

That one was… wow.

I wasn’t going to lie to myself.

This was turning me on. A lot. Every second felt as though someone would turn the corner and catch me. My pulse kept jumping, but instead of stopping, it only made me want to keep going. Maybe a tiny part of me wanted it to happen, just so I could replay it later with my hand between my legs.

I could not believe I was doing this.

My eyes flicked towards the end of the aisle.

I toyed with the hem of my dress for a moment, giving myself one last chance to stop. My phone went into my pocket, and my hand darted under my skirt.

At first, I only rubbed over the front of my thong. Even that was almost too much. I was so sensitive that the light pressure made my thighs tense and my lips press together to keep any sound from escaping.

The fabric was already damp. No, not damp. Soaked.

My fingers hooked under the thin material and tugged it aside. I started playing with my clit in slow circles, stopping every few seconds to listen for footsteps, voices, anything. The only noise was my breathing getting harder.

I didn’t need to go inside. Which, of course, meant I wanted to. It felt worse that way. Naughtier. As if I was pushing the moment past the point where I could pretend this was only a harmless little thrill. I wanted it to be perverted enough that I’d cringe about it later.

One finger glided in, and my whole body tightened around it. I moved slowly at first, in and out, coming back to rub my clit with the wetness. 

After a bit, I added another, biting down on my lip as I adjusted.

And there I was, hidden in the back of the library, fingering myself in public like I had completely lost my mind.

I decided that this could get crazier. 

So with my free hand, I lifted my skirt.

If I got caught, that was it. There would be no explaining my way out of it. They’d find me leaning back against the shelf in the middle of the aisle, tits spilling out of my dress, skirt bunched around my hips, thong pulled aside, bush out, trying not to moan in the religion section.

Oh… I was going to come so fast.

The thought barely had time to finish before the pressure started building. Quick. Too quick. Heat rushed up through me, overwhelming, and my knees weakened.

I slipped my fingers out, focusing completely on my clit.

And then it smacked into me quick after that. Like headlights around a blind corner. 

My skirt fell back down, and my hand flew over my mouth, blocking the noises coming from me.

Not a sound.

Do not make a sound, Shiori.

My legs trembled. My knees knocked together, and my eyes went wide as it kept rolling through me. But I didn’t stop. My other hand stayed busy, dragging out every last bit of euphoria like my clit hadn’t already gotten more than its share of pleasure today.

This was… 

So…

Great.

For a second, my muscles went weak and I almost dropped right there. I grabbed the shelf, fingers digging into the wood, and held myself up while my whole body shook. Between my thighs, I was a complete mess, so wet it was humiliating.

After what was easily an entire minute, I came down, dizzy, breathless, and way too aware of how bad this could have gone. I was honestly shocked no one had heard the moans I’d barely managed to smother behind my palm.

Footsteps.

Good job, Shiori. You jinxed it.

I moved so fast I almost slapped myself in the chest trying to shove my boobs back into my bra. Straps up. Neckline fixed. Skirt straight. I spun towards the shelf like I had been innocently browsing the whole time and grabbed the first book my hand landed on.

Of course.

Finding God in a Distracted World.

Again.

A guy stopped at the end of the aisle, staring.

Look away. 

Please look away.

I opened the book to a random page and stared at it, deeply invested in spiritual discipline.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I turned towards him. Slow. Painfully slow. Somewhere a hinge should’ve creaked. Haunted doll vibes. 

“Uh… yeah. Why?” I asked, my voice jumping about three octaves higher than normal.

His gaze flicked away from my face, then back, then away. “You’re very pretty—I mean red.”

I blinked as his attention dipped for a brief moment.

The guy’s face went redder than mine—probably—before he turned and walked away. Total fast walk, too.

Huh.

I had been two seconds from dying of embarrassment, but that interaction was so awkward it knocked that feeling right out of me.

Then I glanced down and saw what had flustered him.

Half of my left areola was out.

Uhhhh. 

So he had absolutely seen that.

Whatever.

So many people had already seen them online that freaking out over one awkward guy felt kind of ridiculous. Besides, he didn’t look familiar. If I was lucky, that meant he wasn’t in any of my classes, and I could simply pretend he had never existed.

I looked down at the book in my hand.

Oh no.

There was a wet smear on the cover… from my fingers.

I wiped it quickly against my dress and froze.

Now I couldn’t just put it back after that. I had standards. Weird standards. Flexible standards. But I wasn’t returning a damp library book to the shelf like some kind of monster. Since I had already defiled the sanctuary of literature, the least I could do was check the book out, take it back to my room, and sanitize it. 

Luckily, the library had self-checkout kiosks near the front desk, and that meant I could avoid making eye contact with another human being.

I scanned my student ID and tried to look calm. Someone who had come to the library for knowledge, and definitely not a girl who had just orgasmed over the idea of people seeing her do it.

The machine beeped, and the book scanned.

A student librarian walked by and stopped. “You’re a little red,” she said, eyeing me. “Are you okay? Don’t pass out on me.”

I held up the book because my mouth wanted to say unnecessary things. “Sometimes when I read the Lord’s words, I get overwhelmed by a—spiritual warmth.”

There was a pause. A very bad pause.

She nodded. “I’m an atheist, so I wouldn’t know.”

“That’s… nice,” I said, which seemed like it belonged in a different conversation.

I took my receipt, tucked the book against my chest, and nearly jogged towards the doors.

Halfway there, I looked down at the cover. “I hate you.”

The book, being a book, did not apologize.

I was going to post those pictures, log out of life for the rest of the night, and stare at the wall until my brain stopped replaying that conversation in high definition.

That interaction had been far worse than the nipple slip.

Jay wanted this transfer bad.

And… so did I. 

The only problem was his boss—manager. Whatever his title was. He didn’t want Jay transferring because Jay made everything easier. Jay solved problems before they became fires, kept the higher-ups off everyone’s backs, and basically acted like a human shield for the whole branch. No one had told him no, but they just weren’t in any rush to tell him yes, either.

Meanwhile we'd found a house. Four bedrooms, on the beach, in a different state. I was ready to go. It was only twenty minutes from a real city, which meant a whole new playground. Where we were now wasn’t small, exactly, just more coffee shops and grocery stores than skyline. The big night out around here was a dying mall. 

And that festival yearly where I won the wet t-shirt contest. 

So that was how I ended up in heels, clicking my way down the hallway towards Radimir Aksakov’s office. Russian. Very Russian. A hardass, according to Jay. I had a plan, and it was simple: turn the charm up and see what a bit of flirting could shake loose.

Hopefully, the low-neckline burgundy suit did some of the work for me. It was my favorite girl-boss look: black trim, a blazer nipped tight at the waist, and a pencil skirt glued to my butt, making every curve extremely obvious.

My hair had been freshly dyed midnight black and permed a few days earlier, so that was on point too. I felt like I was never going to drop this hair color. It looked too good on me.

A few guys glanced over as I walked by. One of them tried to be subtle about checking out my ass, but the office had glass walls, and I caught the whole thing in the reflection. Of course, I gave my hips a little extra swing for Jay’s coworkers. When he got back from his business trip, someone was definitely going to mention the hot girl who’d strutted through the office.

I reached Mister Aksakov’s office and there was a secretary stationed out front.

“Hello,” I greeted, giving her my nicest smile. “Is Mr. Aksakov here?”

She looked up from her computer. “Do you have an appointment?”

I tapped a hand to my chest. “I’m Jay’s girlfriend. He asked me to come bother Mr. Aksakov about something. You know how busy Jay gets when you all send him off to the battlefield.”

Her face softened. “Oh. You must be Danielle.”

“That’s me.”

“You can go in. Just knock first.” She lowered her voice. “He can be a—”

“Hardass,” I finished for her.

She blinked, then smiled. “Yes. That’s one way to put it.” Her gaze flicked over my face. “Also, your makeup is amazing.”

“Aw, thank you.”

Compliment accepted. I’ve been putting a lot of effort into my face painting. The red lipstick and eyeshadow were doing a lot of the heavy lifting, but I’ve gotten better at blending my foundation lately. 

I walked past her desk and knocked on the light-wood door. 

A deep voice answered from inside, telling me to come in. I stepped into the office and shut the door behind me.

Radimir Aksakov sat behind his desk, bent over a stack of paperwork. Behind him, a big floor-to-ceiling window filled the back wall, the blinds tilted down and throwing strips of afternoon sun across the floor.

He looked up, and his eyes dropped for half a second before returning to my face.

Oh, he noticed. 

To be fair, the girls were making themselves known. The blazer had them squished together, lifted, and one bad lean away from turning a gold button or two into a projectile.

“I’m Jay’s girlfriend,” I said. “Dani.”

Radimir set his pen down, giving me a slow look that landed on my face this time. “Sorry—I think we’ve met once?”

I’d forgotten how strong his accent was. And how handsome he was.

“Briefly.” I walked over and took the chair in front of his desk. “At that fundraiser.”

“Right.” He sat back in his computer chair. “What can I do for you, Dani?”

I folded my hands in my lap and straightened. “I’ll get to the point since Jay says you don’t like tiptoeing. We found a house. A really good one. But it’s not going to stay available for long, and I need a little more certainty on his transfer before we commit.”

His expression barely moved. “Did Jay ask you to come talk to me?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “But I want this house, and when I want something, I’m not great at sitting around and hoping.”

“How about you convince Jay to take my thirty percent raise instead?”

I tilted my head. “We both know this isn’t about money.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Jay has ambitions,” I said. “Headquarters is where he moves up fastest. You know that better than anyone. That’s how you ended up running this branch.”

I had done my research before walking into this office. Radimir had immigrated here from Novosibirsk thirteen years ago and manoeuvred his way into running this branch in seven. That was what I wanted for Jay. 

He didn’t believe he could do it. 

But I did.

“What about forty percent raise and extra week of PTO?” Radimir offered. “But he stays—two more years.”

I almost hated him for offering it. Forty percent was not a small bump. That was a life-changing, stress-lifting, breathe-easier kind of raise. It would help us. A lot. But two more years here meant two more years of Jay getting comfortable. Two more years of telling himself this was good. Two more years of watching the path to the top shrink. 

“If this were only about the money,” I said, “I’d shake your hand right now.”

I loved that he was negotiating with me as if I was Jay’s agent.

Radimir studied me for a moment, folding his hands on the desk. “Okay,” he said. “I put transfer in immediately.”

That… was to easy. 

I raised one eyebrow. “For?”

“Depends.”

“Well, make an offer.” I shrugged, keeping my hands folded in my lap. “I didn’t tiptoe around you, so I don’t expect you to tiptoe around me.”

That got the smallest smile out of him.

There was a pause before, “The kitty.”

I blinked once, realizing what he was asking. “Right now?”

Deep down, I couldn’t pretend I was shocked. Jay had warned me Radimir loved his ladies, and I hadn’t exactly walked in dressed for a normal business meeting. 

Still, I thought there would be more of a dance first. A little pretending. Maybe ten whole minutes of professionalism before he put the offer on the table—or the desk, rather.  Then again, I had told him not to tiptoe around me.

Radimir nodded towards the glossy surface between us. “Right here.”

“And how do I know you’re not just saying that so I’ll bend over, and later you magically forget to file anything?”

His expression didn’t change—at all. “I am a man of my word.” He gave a small shrug, like this was all very simple. “You give me what I want. I put transfer through. You are woman with brand-new house.”

It was almost cute, him thinking he needed to sell me on it.

“This stays between us?”

“Between us,” he agreed. 

I stood, leaned over his desk, and held out my hand. “Deal.”

Radimir looked at it, taking it in a firm shake. “It is unfortunate I lose Jay,” he said. “But I think this helps me mourn his loss.”

My nails loosened the first gold button.

Radimir got up without another word, turned towards the window, and closed the blinds all the way. The strips of sunlight vanished, and the whole office faded into a softer dim, his desk lamp giving off most of the light.

By the time he turned back, I had the rest of my blazer undone. I slipped it off my shoulders, leaving only the black bra underneath, and started working my skirt down my hips. The fabric clung to my ass, tight enough that I had to wiggle it down inch by inch. 

Radimir came around the desk without rushing and stopped behind me. His large hand slipped under my arm, finding my breast, his fingers squeezing into the lace. The rougher he got, the less the lace bothered to cover me, and my areolas slipped into view, my nipples close to joining them.

His breath brushed the side of my neck. “You do this before?” he asked. “Make deals for boyfriend?”

Radimir’s hands slid down to my waist, and I let him guide me forward until my palms met the desk.

I glanced back at him over my shoulder, trying for an innocent look. “No.”

He hooked the thin strap of my black G-string and tugged it down my thighs. Cool air touched me first, followed by his fingers, brushing over my pussy slowly and making my stomach tighten.

Jay had been gone for a week, and I was so horny.

“Wow,” he murmured. “Beautiful lips.” His fingers parted me. “And pink.”

I bit back a smile.

Radimir’s thick fingers slipped inside me, feeling how soaked I was. I clenched around him on purpose, and his fingers curled in response, pressing deeper until my eyes fluttered. He stopped teasing and started really fingering me, rough enough to make my ass jiggle, every thrust sending filthy wet sounds through the room.

It was like he was trying to make me as loud as possible.

He removed his fingers and went to his knees behind me. His tongue dragged through my lips before sinking in. He teased my entrance first, then my clit, taking his time until my hands balled into fists on the desk.

This man was good at eating pussy.

Radimir’s tongue flattened and traveled up, sliding between my cheeks in one long stroke until he reached my asshole. 

He paused there for half a second. “So, tiny,” he said, circling his thumb around before his lips were on it. 

I lifted one knee onto the desk, opening myself more for him. Radimir took advantage immediately, licking every inch of me from behind like he was drinking from a bowl. It was messy, and felt way too good. Between his mouth and how turned on I already was, I could feel the slick trailing down my thigh.

My head tipped back, and an “Oh fuck” tumbled out of me. 

He stayed down there for a while, really enjoying himself.

Radimir came off me with a wet pop and stood. He grabbed my leg and lowered it back to the floor, spinning me around like he’d run out of patience. His mouth found mine while one hand slipped behind my back and worked open the bra.

The clasp gave.

He broke the kiss, and I let the bra fall forward, sliding down my arms. 

His attention dropped immediately.

“Mmm.” His smirk came slowly as both hands closed over me. “Perfect.” He filled his palms with my tits, his thumbs rubbing over my nipples. “Unbelievable,” he murmured. “You would look beautiful pregnant.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” His grip tightened. “I would love to suck milk from these tits.”

Was not expecting him to say that.

I just stared at him. “Well,” I said, leaning back, “you can still suck them.”

Radimir’s eyes lifted to mine.

I smiled. “Just pretend you're milking them.”

His lips closed around my nipple and I held his head there as he sucked hard, taking my little ‘just pretend’ comment very, very literally. 

“Fuck,” I moaned.

Radimir hummed against me, moving to the other side and doing the same, like he was determined to make the fantasy convincing.

After a few minutes, he finally pulled away. Before I could even get a word out, his hands hooked under my arms and hauled me onto the desk like I weighed nothing. He laid me back across it, papers shifting under me.

He moved around to the other side, caught my hair in one fist, and dragged me over until my head hung over the edge of the desk.

Oh, he was getting rough.

I approved.

Radimir popped his belt, shoved his pants open, and flopped himself out. His big cock was ready, but it was his balls that landed onto my face first, warm against my skin. I didn’t waste a time. I turned into him and sucked one into my mouth, heavy on my tongue and taking up so much space.

God, I loved balls.

“Mmmm,” he groaned. “Suck.”

And I did.

I gave both of them plenty of attention before he took himself back, and honestly, I was a little disappointed playtime was over.

Radimir grabbed his cock and smacked it against my face a few times, rubbing it over my lips like he wanted to make sure I knew exactly what was coming.

I opened for him.

There was no slow build after that, no easing in. Just Radimir gliding between my lips and setting the speed while I lay there with my head hanging off his desk, mouth open, letting him use it. 

His balls slapped against my nose every time he drove in. His hands drifted to my tits, squeezing before his fingers pinched my nipples and tugged, lifting my boobs with the motion.

He let them fall, watched them bounce, and did it again.

Squeeze. Tug. Drop.

Sometimes he added a twist just to make me moan around his dick, which only made him more enthusiastic.

“How did Jay get such a beautiful woman?” he said, almost laughing.

I would have smiled if my mouth wasn’t full.

His hands slid to my throat, wrapping around my neck as he held me in place. Each thrust bumped against the inside of my cheek, pushing it out enough for him to see the shape of himself. At this point, my drool had to be dripping onto the floor. There was no way it wasn’t, not with how messy it was.

Abruptly, he left my mouth and spun me around on the desk, positioning me until my pussy was right at the edge. My heels hooked loosely behind his back as he rubbed himself through my wetness, coating his cock with me.

The tip of him pressed against my entrance.

I sat up onto my elbows and looked down.

“You want to see it go in?” he asked, that grin spreading across his mouth.

I nodded, biting my lip as I stared at that rosy head poised against me, ready to fuck me absolutely stupid. He pushed in, and my breath caught in my throat. I watched him stretch me open one deep inch at a time, that thick, veiny shaft sinking farther and farther until I was stuffed full and there was nothing left.

Radimir pulled back, then drove in so hard my tits bounced and the desk shoved under me. I fell back against the papers, both hands clamping over my mouth as he started fucking me faster.

Which helped with the moaning, but did nothing for the sound of his hips smacking against my thighs.

It wasn’t long before he yanked himself out, and hot white ropes spilled across my stomach, my tits, all the way up to my collarbone. I stared down at myself and at the ocean this man was painting me with.

But Radimir wasn’t finished.

He shoved himself back inside me as though coming had only made him want me more. My hand flew over my head, fingers catching the far side of the desk as he drove in again. He was still hard. Still stretching me open while his cum cooled on my skin and he rammed into me with the same punishing rhythm.

Like he hadn’t just finished.

His mouth curved as he drove in. “I bet mine is bigger than Jay’s.”

“So much bigger.”

“I bet it feels better.”

“So much better,” I whimpered, my voice cracking when he hit that spot perfect. “So much better than his tiny dick.”

Every stroke got me closer, winding the pressure tighter and tighter until I couldn’t hold it anymore. My thighs locked around him, my fingers dug into the wood, and it arrived. I came like crazy, my back arching off the wood while he kept fucking me through it. 

I tried to keep quiet, tried to trap the sound behind my teeth, but a cry escaped anyway.

A few minutes later, his pace started to fall apart. His grip tightened on my hipbones, and I felt him throb deep inside me while I lay there covered in him, pinned, trying to remember how lungs functioned.

Sweat rolled down his forehead and dripped onto my stomach as he leaned over me, jaw tight, eyes fixed on my tits while the last pulses drained him empty. He stayed there for a moment after, buried in me.

When he finally pulled out, load two had left plenty of cum leaking from my used pussy.

He buttoned his shirt with a smile while his dick decided to soften. “Enjoy that new house.”

Oh I would. 

I sat up, dizzy enough that the room took a second to behave. “I hope your secretary didn’t hear,” I said, laughing under my breath.

Radimir finished buttoning his shirt, then tucked himself back into his slacks. “Probably,” he said. “But do not worry. I put her on this desk also.” 

Wow.

Luckily, Radimir had a roll of paper towels tucked in one of his desk drawers, because it took more than a couple to get everything cleaned up.

While I worked on that, he stood there typing on his phone like we had just finished a normal meeting and not committed HR violations on furniture. He set the phone on his desk and watched me slide my G-string back on, wiggle into my skirt, and button myself into the burgundy suit again.

Once I was dressed, I tried to fix my hair with my fingers—which was optimistic at best.

“I told Jay I am speeding up transfer,” Radimir said. “So you do not worry I trick you.”

I looked over at him.

He looked very pleased with himself.

I nodded. “Good doing business with you.”

Radimir returned the nod, and I walked out.

The secretary glanced up as I passed, one eyebrow rising just a tad. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” I said, making exactly zero eye contact as I headed straight for the elevator.

Submitted for image #3 of the May contest.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I stared at my phone.

My thumb hovered over the screen before I finally started typing.

“I think you sent this to the wrong person.”

The bubble popped up. Disappeared. Popped up again.

“No?”

I swallowed.

“Are you drunk?”

“It’s 9 a.m.”

My foot bounced under the table, fast enough to rattle my knee against the bottom of my desk. She wasn’t serious. There was no way she was serious. This had to be a prank. She’d never sent me a picture like that before. But messing with me? For sure in her playbook. Or she’d hit the wrong contact and was playing it off. 

Either way, she probably did want to hang. 

“I’ll be over in twenty minutes. I just got out of the shower.”

I locked the phone. 

A second later I caved—unlocked it again, pulled the picture back up. Because, Fine. It wasn’t as though I’d never thought about it. I wasn’t dead. She was gorgeous. But she’d always been firmly, categorically, do-not-even-look-too-long off-limits.

Nope. I wasn’t about to let her catch me simping. Not today. I’d never live it down. Not with the way she ran the just-kidding routine, flirting just to laugh it off as if she’d never meant it.

I shot to my feet so fast the computer chair rolled halfway across the room. 

The apartment felt hot. Too hot. I stood there with my feet planted, doing absolutely nothing, while my brain buzzed like an old TV stuck on static. I couldn’t figure out what that was supposed to mean, but it was giving me anxiety. 

I yanked a tank out of the drawer and tugged it on, smoothing it flat over my chest.

No sense dressing up. It wasn’t anything important. Gym attire was acceptable. 

I checked my phone again.

No new message. That was worse somehow.

I shoved my feet into my sandals, found my keys, and headed for the elevator.

Her place was only a few buildings down. Before today, that had been convenient. Now it felt way too close. I needed at least another ten minutes to get my thoughts on a leash before I showed up at her door.

I walked down the sidewalk with my hands buried in my pockets, trying to look normal. When I reached her building, I paused in the lobby and considered taking the stairs, just to buy myself a bit more time.

Then I remembered stairs meant sweat.

The elevator carried me up, and I stopped in front of her door, staring at it. For one very serious moment, I considered turning around.

But the door opened.

She stood there in a loose tank top and red shorts, one strap sliding down her arm. Her short bob was a mess, sticking out at odd angles, her bangs falling every which way across her face.

Her eyes were half-lidded. “Hey,” she said, yawning after. 

I looked at her face. The strap. Before very aggressively back at her face. “Morning.”

Her mouth curved a little. “You came fast.”

My hand tightened around my phone in my pocket.

“Yeah, well.” I cleared my throat. “You made it sound urgent.”

Her eyes flicked over me, taking in the wrinkly shirt I’d clearly thrown on in a panic.

“Mhm,” she said. “Very urgent.”

She stepped back and left the door open.

I walked in, and the apartment smacked me with the smell of whatever candle Beth was always burning in the living room. Sweet. Too sweet. Somewhere close to cotton candy.

Rachel shut the door behind me and wandered towards the kitchen, barefoot and half-asleep. I kicked off my sandals and followed, putting a heroic amount of effort into not looking at her ass cheeks devouring those red shorts. 

Why was she so thick? Seriously. Me being an ass guy did not help the situation.

Nope. Those thoughts were illegal.

My gaze shot straight to the ceiling.

Nice ceiling. Very normal ceiling. Big fan of architecture.

“You eat yet?” I asked. “I can make eggs or something.”

“Later,” she mumbled.

“Cool,” I said. “Yeah. Later works.”

Rachel didn’t stop in the kitchen. She kept walking down the hall towards her room.

I’d been in her room a thousand times. We’d watched movies in there. Played video games. Folded laundry. Argued over playlists. I had literally helped her move into this apartment. And by helped, I mean she pointed at boxes while I did ninety percent of the actual lifting.

But today, the hallway felt about six miles long.

Rachel glanced back at me. “You coming?”

“Yeah,“ I said, picking my pace up. “Where’s Beth?—she still sleeping?”

Rachel tossed her bedroom door open with her hip. “Visiting her parents for the weekend.”

“Oh,” I said. “Cool. Good for Beth. Family time. Important.”

Rachel gave me a look over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah.” I nodded too fast. “Totally. I’m just… awake.”

She rolled her eyes and walked in, then flopped backwards onto her plaid bed sheets.

The mattress bounced. So did her tits. Her tank top shifted and for a second, I thought I was going to see a nipple. Both straps hung low on her arm, her hair spilling over the pillow in a messy little halo.

I tried not to stare. Failed. So hard. I jerked my gaze towards her dresser.

Mistake.

There was a thong hanging off one of the handles.

I looked at her desk.

Bigger mistake.

A red bra was draped over the back of the chair.

So I looked back at Rachel, which did not help at all.

I shut the door but stayed near the frame. “So,” I said, trying to sound normal and landing somewhere near a hostage situation. “Big plans today?”

Rachel blinked at me.

I cleared my throat first. “Besides, you know. Terrorizing me before breakfast.”

Her mouth twitched. “You’re dramatic.”

“You sent me a picture.”

“You came over.”

“Because I thought you were having a breakdown or somethin’.”

“It’s 9 a.m.”

“I don’t know your schedule.”

“You’ve known me since we were eight.”

“Exactly. That’s why I know your schedule is emotionally unstable.”

My voice was cracking like I was going through puberty again. I needed to get myself under control. 

This was Rachel. My best friend Rachel, who had told me my hair looked stupid every single day for three years until I finally got bullied into cutting it. Rachel, whose mom still calls me on my birthday like I am one of her own kids. Rachel, who once puked in my backpack at a college party, and somehow blamed me when it leaked all over her car floor on the ride home.

That one did it.

Instant erection killer.

Puke.

I had this so under control. 

“Come cuddle me,” she said, patting the bed beside her. “Or are we going to act like that’s weird now?”

She didn’t know about my ultimate weapon for keeping myself in check. I was not falling for this joke. Not yet.

“Listen, Rachel,” I said, using the exact tone of a manager about to fire someone. “I’m a little too old to be playing this game with you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Did you just think about the time I puked in your bag?”

My mouth opened. Nothing came out. I shut it again.

“How did you know?”

She frowned. “Because you make this very specific face.”

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do. It’s your puke memory face.”

“That… that is not a thing,” I said, scratching the back of my neck and looking anywhere but at her. “You’re crazy.” 

“It is so a thing.”

I pointed at her, my finger shaking a bit. “See? This. This is why I don’t trust you. You’re trying to prank me.”

And there I went, getting flustered.

Rachel’s mouth twitched. “By knowing your puke memory face?”

“By distracting me with nonsense until I stop asking questions.”

“You weren’t asking questions,” she said. “We were just making statements at each other.” 

“I was building up to a question.”

“No, you were standing there looking traumatized.”

“Because you brought up the backpack.”

“You thought about the backpack first.”

“Because you put me in a stressful situation.”

Rachel groaned and slapped the mattress beside her. “Get on the bed, idiot.”

“Fine,” I huffed, as if my feet hadn’t started moving the moment she asked.

Ugh. I was such a pushover.

I climbed in behind her and settled in. Rachel tucked herself into the little-spoon position without a second thought, pressing her ass right against my crotch.

Well, I attempted to settle in. I lay there stiff as a corpse for five full minutes, barely breathing.

“Why are you being weird?” she asked, leaning into me more. “Stop.” 

I stared at the back of her head. “Because we’re cuddling after you sent me a picture that was asking if I wanted to fuck you,” I said, adding, “In a very provocative position, by the way. I am definitely deleting it later. One hundred percent did not save it to my gallery.”

She turned around in my arms. “Why are you like this?” she asked, her face inches from mine. “If you’re not attracted to me, just say it.”

“That’s…” My brain stalled. “That is not what’s happening.”

Her boobs were pressed right against me… very against me. 

Rachel searched my face. “Can you just tell me what’s going on?” she asked. “So maybe… I can fix it?”

“You’re serious right now?”

Her breath brushed my lips and she looked up at me with those big light brown eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This conversation is kind of overdue.”

Overdue? How long had she been thinking about this? A week? A month? A decade?

I swallowed. “You started it so elegantly.”

Her forehead bumped against mine, and her mouth almost touched mine when she spoke. “Stop,” she drawled. “You always act like a clown.”

“Rach—”

That was as far as I got before her lips were on mine.

I just froze. Stalled completely, stuck between this is Rachel and Rachel is kissing me. But I started kissing her back, clumsy at first, convinced I was about to wake up or get laughed at or find Beth filming from the closet.

But Rachel didn’t laugh. She kept kissing me, harder, her hands grabbing at my shirt and pulling the fabric tight in her fists.

When she broke away, she didn’t really move back. “Sorry—I’m being ridiculous.”

I should have said something. Probably a lot of things. Instead, I stared at her mouth for one more second, gave up on pretending I had any control left, and kissed her. That seemed to answer whatever question had been sitting between us, because Rachel smiled against my lips and inched herself closer.

My hand travelled carefully at first, like I was afraid one wrong touch would ruin everything.

I slid my palm over the soft curve of her hip, down to the dip of her waist, and back up until my hand covered her breast. My fingers sunk into her softness and squeezed. Rachel made this quiet little sound and leaned into my palm.

This wasn’t going to end in sex. Not today. This was just kissing. Figuring out what the hell we were now that the door had opened and neither of us seemed interested in closing it.

Rachel reached down, grabbed the hem of her tank, and pulled it up. Her chest spilled out beneath the fabric.

My eyes dropped.

Nipples… Two… Obviously two… That was how boobs worked… I knew that… I had seen them a few times in person.

“Can you suck on them?” she asked, her voice suddenly shy in a way that felt almost impossible coming from her. 

Say less.

My face lowered before she even finished the sentence. I closed my lips around the light brown, half-convinced I was crossing some line even though she’d literally invited me there. My tongue brushed over the peak and Rachel’s breath hitched above me. I did it again, slower this time, letting my tongue circle her until her nipple tightened.

Then I sucked.

Rachel let out a quiet moan and arched closer, pushing me deeper into her soft breast. “Thank you for always doing what I want,” she muttered. “I love you.” 

I tried to answer, but the words got lost against her skin. Not that it mattered. Rachel saying she loved me wasn’t new. We threw love you around like spare change.

The important part was her hand staying in my hair.

I switched to her other tit, and Rachel’s fingers pressed the back of my head, holding me there. My hand slid around to her ass, pulling her closer even though there was nowhere closer for her to go.

When I came off her nipple, Rachel grabbed my chin and dragged me back up to her mouth. She kissed me immediately, like even that tiny bit of distance had been too much. I had to turn my face to the side so I could say something that was absolutely going to embarrass me into another dimension. 

“I’m going to last a whole two seconds,” I said, staring at the other side of the room. “So I feel like I need to at least get you off first.”

So much for pretending this wasn’t going to turn into sex.

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing,” she said, against my cheek. “Because Beth only went to get coffee.”

“You said she was visiting her parents.”

Rachel definitely had a smug smile on her face. “I lied.”

“So we should jump ahead?”

“Yes.”

I sat up fast, yanking my shirt over my head before kicking my shorts and underwear off the side of the mattress.

My eyes drifted over to her, laying there in her thong, her tank still bunched around her collarbone. “Are you not taking your clothes off?”

“Just a heads-up,” she said, with a look that told me I should be taking notes. “I’m never going to take my underwear off for you.”

“Oh, okay. Cool.”

How many times have I said cool today?

God. I was such a loser.

Rachel lifted her hips as I reached for her. I hooked my fingers under the waistband of her underwear and tugged them down slowly, dragging the fabric over her ass while she watched me with her lip caught between her teeth. 

Her heels dropped back to the mattress and I flung the thong somewhere. 

She covered her stomach. “Don’t look at my tummy.”

I paused, frowning at her. “You do not have a tummy.”

“I do,” she said, suddenly quieter. “It’s because you always make too much food, and I wanna eat it all because it’s good. And now I’m fat.”

“You’re not fat.” I crawled between her legs, bracing one hand beside her head. “And for the record, if my cooking did anything to you, it made you hotter.”

She tried not to smile. “So you’re trying to fatten me up?”

I came down and kissed her, letting my mouth glide lower. “I wouldn’t change anything about you,” I murmured against her neck.

“Sean.”

“Yeah?”

“We need to hurry up.”

Beth. Coffee. Limited window.

“Right,” I said, shifting closer.

My fingers wrapped around my cock, guiding myself against her.

Rachel let out a shaky inhale, and I parted her lips with the head, easing in slowly. She was already so wet that it made heat rush up my neck, as though I had somehow caught her wanting me too much.

My eyes closed briefly as her softness molded around me, warm, pulling every thought out of my head. I went deeper, and by the time I was all the way in, my breathing was gone. Rachel pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked down between us, watching where I disappeared inside her. 

Her lips parted, her expression caught somewhere between shock and awe. “You’re in me.”

“Yeah,” I said, starting to move. 

Her eyes came back up to mine. “We’re actually having sex.”

A nervous laugh almost slipped out of me, but I held it down. “Yeah,” I said, rolling my hips faster. “I think we are.”

Her fingers clawed at the sheet beneath her.

“You feel good,” she breathed. “Really good.” 

I nodded, keeping my eyes locked on her face through sheer force of will, because her boobs were definitely bouncing, and if I looked down, this whole thing was about to be over immediately. 

“You feel good too,” I said, my voice embarrassingly unsteady.

Rachel’s mouth fell open a little, her eyes half-lidded. Her head rocked with the rhythm, bobbing every time I pushed into her. 

“Sean,” she mumbled. “You can finish in me.”

Oh no. Bad idea. Also, I was absolutely not going to say no.

“Are…” My voice caught, and I had to force the rest out. “Are you sure?”

I was already close. Way too close. One wrong breath and the credits were rolling.

“Yes”—her eyes opening a bit more—“Don’t stop looking at me.”

I bent down until our faces were almost touching, close enough that every moan touched my lips. I kept my eyes on hers while I started thrusting faster, sliding in and out of her with less control each time. Her legs shifted around my waist, her body drawing me in, holding me there, and whatever restraint I had left just broke.

My cock drove as far as it could go, with only my balls left outside her. 

For half a second, nothing happened.

Then the first throb hit. Rachel’s eyes went wide, and a helpless whimper escaped out of her as I started coming. Hard. So hard my head went light and the room tilted. But I didn’t look away. Not once. Her legs locked tighter around me, holding me there, keeping me buried as deep as I could go. The pulsing wouldn’t stop. It kept rolling through me, wave after wave, and I pressed into her more.

When it finally ended, I stayed there, holding myself over her while I tried to catch my breath. Rachel stared up at me, dazed and smiling.

“This honestly was a joke when I first sent it,” she said. “But I’m glad I went through with it.”

I stared at her.

Her grin widened. “Sorry, friend.”

A laugh came out of me. “You’re mean.” 

“Mhm.”

I shook my head. “But I’ll let it slide.”

“We’re in a relationship now,” Rachel said, pressing her heels into me. “It’s official.”

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh. 

“You have a boyfriend.”

Honestly, I’d forgotten about his dumbass. Extra copy-and-paste average, and that was coming from another average guy.

Rachel gave me a look, like I’d just said the dumbest thing in the world. “Now you bring that up? We broke up a month ago. I told you this.”

My brain took a moment to catch that. “What?”

“He broke up with me.”

A weird feeling passed through my chest. “Was it about me?”

For the first time all morning, the smugness slipped off her face. “Yes,” she said quietly. “He said I loved you more, and—”

“Hey, slut, I’m back!” Beth shouted from the front door.

My eyes went wide as an owl. “I didn’t lock the door.”

Rachel and I launched off the bed like the cops had kicked it in.

Clothes went flying. I grabbed my shorts, shoved one leg in the wrong hole, and nearly ate shit trying to fix it. Rachel yanked hers up in a panic, but not fast enough to stop my cum from sliding down her thigh.

“Oh my God,” she hissed, staring down at her legs. “Why did you come so much?”

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t really control that.”

Rachel gave me a look, then bolted for the bedroom door just as Beth tried to push it open. She slapped one hand against the wood and wedged herself into the gap.

Beth, being Beth, took that as a challenge. She shoved her shoulder into the other side and busted in.

Everything stopped.

Beth stared at Rachel.

Rachel stared at Beth.

Beth’s eyes drifted past her and landed on me.

The silence was so bad I wanted to crawl out the window.

“Wait…” Beth said slowly. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Rachel said, immediately scurrying behind me.

Beth squinted at her. “Your face is red.”

Rachel said nothing.

Beth pointed at me. “And he looks like he just had sex for the first time.”

Wow. Fuck you.

“It wasn’t the first time,” I mumbled.

“Sean,” Rachel yelled at me.

Beth’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God. So you did fuck!”

“Out!” Rachel whimpered. “Please.”

Beth huffed as though we were the ones inconveniencing her. “You’ve got some explaining to do, missy. ‘Like a brother,’ my ass.”

So that’s what she told people when they asked about us?

Beth walked backwards out of the room, glaring at us both, which felt unfair because I hadn’t done anything wrong. 

Rachel shut the door behind her, then leaned back against it. 

For a whole minute, neither of us said a word.

Rachel groaned.  “There is so much cum running down my leg.”

Out of every sentence I had ever imagined hearing from Rachel, that one had never made the list.

The key card dangled from my fingers. Suitcase handle in one hand, duffel biting into my shoulder. My arm had gone numb two buildings ago. 

Room 313.

I knew it was mine. My name was on the housing portal, on the lanyard, on the envelope they’d handed me at check-in.

But the door was closed, my roommate already inside. Music bled through the gap at the bottom of the frame. Pop-adjacent. Familiar. Then again, everyone sounded the same now. Over-produced, vowels stretched way past meaning. 

What if I walked in while she was changing or doing something private? Not exactly how I wanted to start things off. 

Knocking was the safe option.

I let out a breath and tapped the cool metal, probably too soft. 

The music cut and the door opened before my knuckles had fully left the surface. Fast enough that she must have been standing right there.

“You kinda look like a bunny.”

“Uh… what?”

“Relax. It’s cute.” She tilted her head, blonde hair brushing her shoulder. “Yeah. I’m calling you Bunny.”

I blinked. “Or you could just—”

“That’s all you.” She pulled the door wide, and jerked her chin towards the bare mattress across the room.

So much for introductions.

I rolled my suitcase over the threshold, the wheels catching on the metal lip with a dull clack. Cinder block walls the color of weak coffee. Two desks shoved into opposite corners as if they were avoiding each other, a window AC unit wheezed between them.

Kore ga uchi ka… home, for the next few years.

The door shut itself behind me, and I rolled my case to the bed. Collapsed the handle, swung the duffel off my shoulder, and dropped it flat on the mattress… not even a dip.

Yikes.

Better learn to sleep on my back. It was going to be like at obaachan’s.

She pointed, and I followed her finger to the mini fridge tucked by the door. “We split it half and half. I’m not gonna be a bitch about it, but try to keep it balanced.”

“Ok.”

“You’re so pretty. The round glasses? Iconic.” She said it like a weather report, already moving on. “Where’s your family from?”

“Japan.”

I could’ve said Sapporo, given her the prefecture, but I knew the truth of the question, and Japan was all it wanted.

“Cool.” She swept her phone off the desk, thumbed the screen without slowing, and was already at the door. “I have a date. You’re good, right? Okay, bye.” 

The door clicked shut behind Juliana, and I was alone.

A date. In leggings and a sports bra?

I stalked her over the summer, obviously. Found her Instagram in about four seconds. Aesthetic lattes. Bikini shots on beaches that were definitely not in America. She had the influencer thing going, not quite a hustle but it wasn’t accidental either.

For a second I stood there, taking in her side of the room.

Fairy lights tangled through fake vines along the bed frame, flowers spilling off every surface. Her mirror was big. Heirloom old. Full-length, ornate, perched on a swivel stand and angled towards the center of the room.

And there I was in the glass. Baggy jeans. Hoodie drowning me, cuffs past my knuckles. Ponytail pooled in the hood. That mirror had probably reflected generations of girls who deserved the frame. Me? I looked like I’d been dressed by a lost and found. 

My wardrobe needed help. 

I unzipped the duffel and started removing things. Sheets. Pillow. The comforter kaasan had vacuum-sealed down to the size of a textbook—because she knew tousan, and tousan had waited until the last possible minute to ship everything. He swore the boxes would beat me here. Kaasan packed as if they wouldn’t. 

She was right.

I finished making the bed, and dropped onto the mattress for a short break. It gave the same nothing it had for the duffel. Not that I weighed much more. 

Freedom. 

Finally.

Not that my parents were bad but I need to stretch my wings and fly without them. They’d been rightly strict with my schooling growing up but now was the time to be an adult. Even though it didn’t feel that way yet. 

I unpacked the rest of my stuff, emptying the luggage into the dresser. Every so often I’d glance at how depressed and lifeless my side looked next to the magical forest. 

The empty suitcase went under the bedframe. I plugged in my laptop at the head of the bed and leaned back against the wall. The screen blinked on, and my browser opened straight into a dead page.

Ugh. The wifi. Right.

Of course, the portal buried the login three menus deep. By the time I found it, I could’ve hotspotted off my phone. 

My schedule was first on the to-do list. I combed through it, made sure it hadn’t changed, noted the walking distances between buildings I hadn’t seen yet. I was a bit nervous about starting college, but truthfully I’d expected to be more of a mess. I just felt… eh, about it. Which was probably not a bad thing.

Once I’d handled the checklist, I started searching for ways to make my side of the room less like a prison cell. 

Except the moment I started looking, nothing worked together. Every style I pulled up clashed with the last one. Minimalist, then boho, then industrial. My browser history was three different people fighting for control. 

And the whole time Juliana’s side sat there in my peripheral vision, coordinated, mocking me with its commitment. I didn’t want to compete with it. But I did feel challenged by it, and that was annoying because I didn’t even care about room decor twenty minutes ago. 

I closed the tabs and told myself I’d sit on it. This didn’t need to happen on day one. I needed to get a feel for the room first, see how much of my stuff from home would fill it out once it got here. 

Clothes were different, though. Juliana’s whole thing was… athletic. I had the stamina of a house plant. Different lanes entirely. My closet wasn’t up against hers, and more importantly, nobody here was going to weigh in.

Just me and the cart.

Plus, my birthday was in two months. I could call this an early present to myself. I was going to be nineteen. That seemed old for a freshman. But people started college at thirty, forty, whenever. I was barely a year off schedule. 

I got hyper-focused. Hours evaporated. The sun dropped, the room went dark, and at some point the only light left was my laptop screen. This new interest in fashion had kidnapped me. I fell down a goth/wiccan rabbit hole for a while—loved the aesthetic, but my family would disown me if I came home looking like a witch. I did find a site with cute bras in my size, though. For once. 

A white one dotted with little strawberries caught me. It came with a matching thong. I’d never owned one. Nothing had been stopping me; it just never had an appeal. The idea of fabric riding up between my cheeks sounded annoying.

But I was hitting reset. I needed to. Perhaps this new college version of me wore thongs.

Only one way to find out. 

I added it to the cart. 

Next thing I knew, the total was climbing, and I was silently thanking every relative who’d overdone it with graduation money. Even if a small part of me felt weird spending it on sexy things. I mean, I did buy regular clothes… half of it was still underwear. 

I checked out. The guilt hit before the confirmation page loaded.

Who was I even going to show this stuff to? My imaginary boyfriend? Stuff like this deserved an audience.

Which brought me to the next problem. I needed to talk to guys more. And I needed to stop walking around wearing my face like it had shipped without an emotion setting. I didn’t have a bitch face. A bitch face at least communicates something. I had a void. Blank, neutral, zero signal. Nobody was going to cross a room to talk to that.

I didn’t lack confidence or anything. I just didn’t know how any of this worked. Dating, men, all of it. I could’ve used a tutorial. Most of my life had been spent with my nose pressed to the inside of a book.

That was part of why I’d fought for a school out of state. If I was going to figure myself out, I needed space. Real space. Away from my family, away from expectations. In case things took a… spicier turn than planned.

There was going to be plenty of time for it over the next four years, but starting online felt safer. I could post pictures, maybe chat—figure out how to talk to guys without completely fumbling it. Last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself in a class I had to sit through for the next couple months. 

My “hoe phase” was going to have a very mild start, but whatever.

I used that term loosely. I hadn’t even kissed a guy yet. But it wasn’t as if I was clinging to some big, sentimental idea about a first kiss or virginity. If a guy was cute and the vibe was right, I’d be down.

So it was settled. I’d post online. Without my face, obviously. This actually sounded kinda fun the more I thought about it. Juliana posted stuff way more revealing than underwear—bikinis, mostly. Barely that at times. And she didn’t seem to lose any sleep over it being out there.

Not that I was going to post anywhere popular. Big platforms were a no. One weird friend suggestion and suddenly a cousin in Sapporo is asking kaasan what I was doing in a strawberry bra. 

Hard pass. 

I needed somewhere low-stakes. Anonymous handle, no feed overlap, no face. One of those fit-check subs. People posted outfits, strangers hyped them up, and everyone kept it just low-key horny enough not to get banned. 

This was going to require a bit of searching.

I found a few sites with places for it, but nothing was quite grabbing me. 

Maybe I wanted more of a thrill. Less basic than what I’d started looking for. A few sites kept popping up in the results. Very suggestive names. But I wasn’t trying to launch an OF career.

I shifted my legs under the laptop and palmed the keyboard, trying to keep it from sliding off my lap, and suddenly I was on a much less basic site. 

Boobs. Everywhere. Lace and bare skin, bunch of them not even bothering with that. Everything out in the open. They were all so pretty it made me pause. But I think I was more in awe of how fearless they were. Not a care in the world. Here, guys looked at my chest. And my butt… and other things. 

I wasn’t sure I could go full legs spread like some of these girls without melting from embarrassment. I could probably post my… boobs. Possibly bare. That didn’t really make me that nervous. 

If I was being honest—and not downplaying how beautiful they were—I was more attractive than most of them. There was even a ranking board. I clicked it out of curiosity, and the girl in the top spot wasn’t out of reach. With a little makeup and clothes that fit me, I could land there. 

I knew I looked good. My curves weren’t exactly common—okay, a tad rare. I just never cared enough to do anything with it. Effort meant planning, matching, trying, and most days I couldn’t be bothered. I wore whatever was closest and called it good.

But that shiori?

She was done.

I still wasn’t sure if I’d post anything nude but I could at least make an account for now. 

My eyes snapped to the door, half-expecting it to swing open, like Juliana would catch me right there and start scolding me for looking at porn on my own computer. Even if she did come in, my back was against the wall.

I turned back to the screen.

The cursor moved slowly before settling on the sign-up button.

-Click-

A box popped up.

Are you over 18?

Yes.

Next field.

Date of birth?

October 31st 2007

Next.

Username

My fingers hovered over the keys. 

It shouldn’t have been hard. But I sat there staring at the empty field, because I’d never needed an alias. Never had to invent a version of myself that wasn’t my name with numbers tacked on. Shiori to my friends back home, shiorinishikawa78 in my email, similar variant of that on every account I’d ever made.

Let’s not break tradition. 

I typed shiori_n.

Taken. 

Nishikawa_s. 

Taken, which felt statistically unlikely but okay. 

Moonphase10. 

Taken. 

I backspaced through nightowl123 and quietpillow5, tried sakura67, then deleted it so fast my hand almost cramped. 

Stardustshi… No. That’s stupid. 

The cursor blinked. I blinked back. Thirty seconds of silence.

My palm hit my forehead.

I’d been plugging in my actual name. I didn’t want that on a site like this. 

That was soooo dumb.

Fine.

Bunny.

Already taken. 

Of course it was.

I set the laptop aside and stretched, arms overhead, my left shoulder cracking on the way up. I’d dislocated it when I was nine, and it never let me forget. Eighteen and already falling apart. 

Oh no. Big oh no. I hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t had any water in… four hours? More. Why was I like this? My organs hated me. No doubt about it. 

Add it to the reinvention list. 

Eat better. Move sometimes.™ 

Slogan material.

If reincarnation was real, I’d been a sloth in a past life and never fully shook it. 

I made it to the door and hit the switch. Light flooded the room—too much of it. I winced and fumbled with the slider. 

Even turned down, the overhead was harsh; whenever my stuff got here, there was a desk lamp in one of the boxes. Juliana had strips and hanging lights everywhere, but I wasn’t about to touch any of it. 

I flopped down on my bed and went back to the endless username brainstorm. After I picked a username, I’d deal with my basic needs. 

My eyes drifted over the top of my screen to an empty milk bottle on Juliana’s desk. Cap off. Label half-peeled. A fly touched down on the rim.

Gross.

She should throw that away.

Wait.

BunnyMilk.

Accepted.

Wow. Didn’t expect that to be available. Especially without numbers.

Was the milk thing weird? 

Too late now.

These questions felt less like a profile and more like a physical.

Height… 4’10. 

#shortlife.

Weight… uh… 115-ish. I really didn’t keep track.

Bra size. Seriously? 

I scrolled down.

They were asking everything. I only knew these numbers because obaachan had asked for my measurements months ago. She wanted to send a yukata. One I was never going to wear, but she didn’t need to hear that. 

30H.

Bust… 38 inches.

Waist… 24.

Hips… 39.

Hair… black—no, “raven” sounded better.

Eyes… dead inside brown. 

Pubic hair… TBD.

Was that everything? Might as well measure my toes next.

Oh god. The profile picture. Yeah, no. My face wasn’t going anywhere near that site. I popped open Paint instead—a badly drawn bunny would be way funnier anyway.

He came out looking like he had a mustache.

Perfect. No notes.

Now with that applied, it was time for… food. 

But hear me out. What if I made a post first, and then got food? I know, I know. Water. But I was invested now.

I glanced at the door, yanked my hoodie and shirt off in one go. Sports bra next—quick. Done. Hoodie back on. 

That was going to take some getting used to. Changing with another person in the room. Or even the chance they could walk in.

At any time.

Meanwhile, I was about to post nudes online.

Makes sense.

Mhm… phone camera or laptop? The laptop would be grainy with the lighting in here. Then again, grainy was kind of an aesthetic. Very early-2000s flip phone. Basically the 1900s. 

Imagine not having a smartphone.

Wild.

Focus.

The camera on the computer was easier. No messing around with transferring stuff from my phone. 

I dragged my hoodie up and bit the fabric to hold it there.

One look at the screen… that angle made them look cartoonishly huge.

Good.

If this whole thing was a joke, I could laugh while crying in embarrassment later.

Kidding. 

Kinda.

Why not make it worse. I squeezed my boobs together, holding them there while my finger hovered over the mouse. Was this a good picture? The angle made my areolas look bigger than usual. A little puffier. Not bad… just—different. I couldn’t decide if I liked it or not.

Maybe if they were hard.

I pinched them, watching the change happen on the screen. I leaned in a bit, studying it as though that was going to give me a clear answer. 

Better? Worse? I still couldn’t make up my mind.

I didn’t give myself time to think. I took the shot and used the first one—neck down, nothing but boobs. Simple and done. I’d already spent way too long on this. Before I could second-guess it, I hit upload, watched it go through, and backed out to the homepage like it wasn’t a big deal at all.

My hoodie fell back into place, and I sat there for a second, taking in the fact that I’d really posted my nipples online.

This was sort of uncharacteristic of me. I didn’t do things like this. And yet, I was fine. More than fine, actually. Completely unfazed. I might be tired from the trip, but the idea of hundreds of people seeing me wasn’t that big of a deal. 

I took my glasses off and rubbed at my eyes, blinking away the burn.

When I looked back— 

My rabbit icon. Top corner. Right next to my boobs. Front page. Under new users.

—oh.

Not hundreds… thousands. 

Right there, for everyone to see.

I slid my glasses back on. The notification icon was already at 10+... that was fast.

Heat crept up my neck, but I clicked it anyway. I stared at the webpage, and gave a small nod.

This site was very… horny.

“Huge melons!”

“I’d like some bunny milk, please🍼”

I knew that comment was coming.

My eyes kept flicking to the door before I nudged the laptop forward a little and my hand traveled lower. My fingers slipped under the waistband, easing into my underwear, like I wasn’t supposed to be doing it. 

“Damn, I’d suck on those for days.”

“🥵🥵🥵”

“Love dark nipples.”

Well, they were technically a light brown. The lighting in the picture made them look way darker. 

“Please post more, bunny!”

“I would cum all over those tits💦💦💦”

“Nice AF.”

“🐇🐇🐇🐇”

My finger glided down between my lips, and—whoa—I was… already super wet. It’d been a few months since I’d taken care of myself. Moving, paperwork, all the last-minute chaos had shut everything down. And now—It came back all at once.

“I bet the jiggle is amazing when she’s getting fucked.”

“Pussy gotta be so pretty.”

“Breedable.”

They were being so… dirty… so perverted. Was this how guys thought all the time? Every time they saw a hot girl—Caveman mode enabled?

I started rubbing my clit, biting my lip without thinking, my legs falling open a little.

Why was I so into that?

“No fucking way those are natural.”

“I want to squeeze and taste them sooo bad 😩”

“How about you hop on my dick, baby?”

“DM me!” 

A few chat notifications pinged, so I clicked into my inbox, already expecting chaos.

I wasn’t wrong. 

The first one was… a huge penis. Thick, with these blue veins tracing down the length. It was weirdly pretty. I’d seen flashes before, background stuff in movies, quick, blink-and-you-miss-it moments. Not like this. Not this close. It filled my whole screen. And I looked. Longer than I should’ve. Long enough to notice that I was still looking before I finally forced myself to move on.

There were a bunch of compliments ranging from sweet to down right filthy. But a lot of penises… so many. A few were small… barely bigger than my thumb. I paused at those, a bit surprised they had the confidence to send them. Others were short but ridiculously thick. One was even the size of a soda can.

Different shapes, different sizes. I didn’t expect it to be this… interesting. But it kind of was. I knew there was that whole thing with guys sending pics no one asked for, but this wasn’t that. I was sitting here, studying them like a museum exhibit. 

I preferred when they included everything—especially when their testicles were in the frame. Some of them were huge, just a couple of extra large eggs hanging there. But the ones I really stopped on were the full-body shots. Or at least enough to see the rest of them. I enjoyed seeing what it was attached to.

Then I landed on a username that should’ve been a warning: godzilladick203. That wasn’t false advertising. The tip was this swollen pink-purple, like an angry mushroom sitting on top of a baseball bat.

Okay, maybe not a full-on bat, but still… it was kinda wild. Definitely close to my forearm.

My fingers picked up pace against my clit, and my brain… split. One side of me was straight-up turned on, warmth growing fast, chasing that feeling. The other side of me went oddly focused, almost clinical—taking it all in, comparing, cataloging details instead of reacting. 

And the crazy part? Neither side canceled the other out. They both held their ground, fully locked in, feeding into each other instead of fighting it. But soon my head started to go light, the room softening around the edges. Everything blurred a little, slipping out of focus as my eyes slowly fluttered closed. 

By some miracle, I heard a voice outside the door right as I was about to orgasm.

My eyes shot open. I slammed the laptop shut, jerking my hand back and wiping it quickly on my jeans as the door opened. 

Juliana stepped in, already squinting up at the overhead lights. “Yuck,” she muttered, reaching over to flip them off. 

Everything went dark. I moved fast, shoving my bra and shirt under my pillow like I was hiding evidence. Even though it wasn’t crazy to think I’d taken it off to get comfortable.

Juliana crossed the room with her phone flashlight on and clicked on her forest setup. Warm greens and golds washed against everything. She dropped onto the edge of her mattress and toed her sneakers off without looking down.

I exhaled a little without meaning to.

Juliana tilted her head, studying me. “What’s up, Bunny?”

“N-nothing,” I stammered, launching to my feet to grab my key card off the desk. “I’m gonna get food. I’ll be back.” 

I was out the door before she could get another word in. 

No bra, just the hoodie—loose enough to get away with it.

I really should’ve used my hotspot for posting on an adult site. First day of college, and I’m posting nudes on the school internet.

Awesome. 

The hottest guy I’d ever seen was sitting next to me. On my couch. In my living room. 

Not cute. Not oh, he’s kinda fine. 

Woozers level.

He looked like he’d dropped straight out of one of my Korean dramas. I watched those religiously. Basically, that was where most of my free time went. I should’ve been able to speak Korean by now.

Asking for his number had been a YOLO move. A joke I’d laugh about later. Or, more likely, cringe over.

He wasn’t supposed to actually give it to me!

“Yeah,” I said. “I understand.”

That was a lie. I was not even listening to him.

Everything from the neck up went offline. His mouth kept moving. Very pretty lips, by the way. Whatever was coming out of them had stopped being words about ten minutes ago. Meanwhile I was memorizing his face like there’d be a quiz on it later.

We were absolutely going to bang.

That wasn’t confidence. That was a prophecy. 

The only thing I couldn’t figure out was the timing. When was I supposed to kiss him?

We’d been circling for almost an hour, flirting, stalling, acting as if this wasn’t already headed somewhere extremely obvious. I’d dressed for it. White peekaboo sports bra—exactly what it sounds like—and tight white leggings.

I told him I was going for a run after he left.

A hilarious lie.

There was no universe where I was jogging around my neighborhood dressed in this. 

First of all, I wasn’t wearing underwear. Second, these shorts were cheap. The moment I bent over, the fabric stretched thin enough to start sharing shapes and colors. I was already keeping my legs folded to hide an obvious wet spot.

Plus, I’d already committed to the full pre-sex maintenance routine. Hair washed. Kitty shaved. Sweating was not on the agenda unless it happened during sex. 

On top of all that, I probably wouldn’t even make it ten feet out the door. Victor would spot me, wave me over, and I’d go without even an ounce of hesitation. After our agreement, or roleplay, or fake-serious whatever-the-hell it was, he still hadn’t knocked on my door. Not once. It had been a month. He’d been out of town for most of it, Sure. But he’d been back for a few days now.

And I was definitely in denial about how much that irritated me.

Because it did.

Annoyingly.

But I wasn’t going to dwell on that, not with this beautiful man in my house. 

He was soooooo hot. I couldn’t stop thinking it. My literal internal monologue had devolved into one deeply embarrassing chant:

Hot. Hot. Hot.

With the occasional, give me the dick, thrown in between.

His name was Henry, which wasn’t bad or anything. It just didn’t match the face. He deserved some beautiful, dramatic name that came with subtitles and a tragic backstory.

But none of us got to choose our names.

Me included.

My last name was Reed, and little did my parents know, they’d accidentally doomed me to a lifetime of the same unoriginal joke.

It wasn’t the same spelling, but trust me, that did not help.

Okay. It was time.

We were going to my bedroom. I just needed to think of a half-decent excuse that wouldn’t make the walk there too awkward.

And because my life had sitcom timing, the doorbell rang. 

I already knew. I didn’t even need to check. My gut went, yep… it’s him. Sure, it could’ve been my Amazon delivery. I had a minor shopping addiction and a loose relationship with financial responsibility. 

But no.

The universe loved using me as comedic relief, and apparently, today’s episode had a surprise guest star waiting at the door.

“Uh, one sec.” I hopped up and jogged over. 

I leaned in and looked through the peephole. 

Victor stood on the other side.

I exhaled and pulled the door open. Stepping outside, I yanked it shut behind me before Henry could hear anything.

Victor’s eyes dropped to my cleavage. “Holy tits,” he said, casual as ever. “I need my balls emptied.”

I blinked at him. Just stood there, waiting for my brain to catch up.

“Can we do that later?”

He laughed as though I’d said something cute. “We can. But we’re also doing it now.”

“I’m kind of busy… with school stuff.”

His shoulders lifted. “Take a break.”

He was so lucky I was into this whole dominant free-use thing. Because if him standing there, telling me exactly how this was going to work, hadn’t made me all restless and fidgety downstairs, I would’ve slammed the door right in his smug face. 

Guess Henry was going home. Which was honestly embarrassing, because wow, I accepted Victor over him fast. My body was fully hijacked by all the horniness lately, waving a tiny flag of surrender.

His brow ticked up. “You’re forgetting something.”

Heat crawled up my neck. “Yes, sir,” I said, and it slipped out way too easily.

Victor circled me slowly, like he was checking me out. He stepped in behind me, his hands finding my waist before sliding down to my hips. 

A second later, they came back up, cupping my boobs.

My sports bra was already riding low, and when he squeezed, one areola slipped over the white band. He hooked a finger on the edge and tugged the fabric lower, dragging it beneath my tits until both of them were fully exposed. His pointer fingers rubbed over the nubs, teasing them until they hardened.

I was still facing the road.

Very, very visible.

God, I hoped no one drove by.

“Love these pinkies,” he mumbled, playing with them. 

Pinkies? Did he nickname my nipples?

A car rolled past.

I froze.

He leaned in, lips brushing close to my ear. “They definitely saw titties.”

I stayed silent.

“You haven’t taken any birth control, right?”

“No, sir.”

He let out a low, pleased hum. “Good. I haven’t jerked off in days. You’re getting a big load.”

Uh-oh. It had been, what, two weeks since my period? Yeah. I was definitely in the danger zone. And of course the risk made me nervous. Obviously it did. But because I was apparently an insane woman with no interest in making smart choices, it also made me want him to finish in me even more. 

I swallowed. “Can you come back in, like, ten minutes? Or I can come over to you.” 

His fingers pressed into my tits.

“Nah,” he said, and I knew without looking that he had a smile on his face. “I’ll come in right now.”

He knew I had a guy over.

“Please don’t say anything dumb.”

“I’ll try,” he said, which was not even close to comforting.

I shoved my boobs back into my bra, tugged everything into place, and opened the door. Just like that I led him inside, my heart pounding harder with every step.

How the hell was I supposed to explain this?

I needed an excuse. 

A good one. 

Fast.

Because Henry was going to get suspicious if I shoved him out the door with no explanation.

Maybe the AC was acting up. Maybe the plumbing was leaking. Maybe my entire life was a disaster, and if I had managed to act normal for even five consecutive minutes, I wouldn’t be in situations like this. 

When I walked back into the room, Henry looked over the couch. Not at Victor. At me. More specifically, lower.

My gaze dropped.

The wet spot had grown. Not a small amount, either. It was creeping up the front.

Oh my god.

I nearly sprinted to the couch and snatched up my notebook, holding it in front of me as naturally as possible.

“Hey, um, my dad’s friend is coming over to work on my sink. Not my sink. The house’s sink. Obviously. I completely forgot. So… talk to you in class?” I said, every word flying out at about a hundred miles per hour. 

DEAD.

Henry gave me a small, confused nod. “Sure…” He stood and grabbed his bag off the floor. “Thanks for studying with me.”

“It was so much fun. Thanks for coming over,” I said, already putting a hand on his back and steering him towards the door.

“Sorry, buddy,” Victor said from behind us. “Gotta fix those leaks before they become a problem.”

I shot him a look and mouthed, Shut up.

The second Henry was out of the house, I shut the door and leaned back against it, letting my head hit the wood.

I could not believe I’d kicked him out for Victor.

That little fact was going to haunt me every single time I saw Henry in class now. Like, congratulations, girl. You had the hottest guy in class sitting on your couch, and you kicked him out the moment the middle-aged neighbor knocked. 

When I came back into the living room, Victor was already looking around, nodding to himself. “Never thought I’d step inside this house,” he said with a smirk. “Where’s Greg’s room?”

I opened my mouth to not answer that, but he was headed down the hallway.

“Victor—”

Too late.

He checked the first room, then the next, casually snooping through my house with no shame. 

Eventually, he reached the right door and turned the knob. 

“Let’s go to my room—”

Victor was already inside.

He rifled through a few drawers before plucking out a tiny red thong and holding it up, his mouth curling into the most irritating smirk I’d ever seen. 

“Mrs. Reed’s ass gotta look great in this.” He pushed it into his back pocket.

Wow. Wow. Wow. WOW.

I shoved the drawer shut. “Hey. My room. Let’s go.”

He moved to the nightstand next and looked through it.

“Victor.”

He lifted a realistic looking dildo, eyebrows rising. “Wow. She likes them big.” His smile widened. “This is almost as big as mine.”

My mouth fell open. I can’t believe this was happening. And, for the record, I could’ve gone the rest of my life without knowing she had an eight-inch toy. 

Emergency plan.

I ripped my bra off, threw it at him like a grenade, and squished my boobs together.

“Hey…” I said, trying to pull his attention back to me. “Don’t you want to suck on these?”

“Bed,” he ordered, clicking the toy on. It buzzed to life in his hand. “Face down. Ass up. You know the drill.”

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

That was weird, right? 

Yeah. No, that was absolutely weird.

But also… If I cleaned it afterwards, technically, the problem was handled.

So, really, it wasn’t that weird.

Probably.

Was I really about to let him use that toy on me?

Apparently, yes. Because while the angel and devil on my shoulders were putting on their moral debate, I had already made the decision and started moving.

I climbed onto the bed on all fours, lowering myself until my cheek pressed into the blanket and my forearms braced beneath me. My ass lifted near the edge of the mattress, and my pulse kicked faster as the excitement fully bullied every other emotion out of the room. 

Wow Riley… great job being conflicted for one whole millisecond.

He took his time peeling my leggings down, dragging the fabric over the curve of my ass until it bunched midway down my thighs.

“Fuck…” His hand drifted over one cheek, squeezing before he smacked it hard enough to make me whimper into the bed. “Such a beautiful ass—I was dreamin’ about it while I was gone.”

The head of the toy brushed my pussy, dragging slowly between my lips, up and down.

“You’re a mess back here,” Victor said, dragging it lower until it nudged my entrance. “Already drippin’ for me, huh?”

He pressed it into me, giving me a moment to prepare.

The ridge of the head slipped inside, then more of it followed, sliding deeper. It was tight at first, but the flood between my legs made it glide smoother than it had any right to.

When it was all the way in, the fake balls were snug against me. 

“God,” Victor muttered, turning the speed up another notch. “That tight little pussy was made for big dicks.” 

The vibration spread through me in a warm, buzzing bloom, and he kept clicking it higher, higher, higher, until it hit the max setting and the whole thing hummed though my entire core. 

Fuck.

This felt amazing. I was going to have to find this online later.

First, he worked it in and out at a teasing pace. Then he sped up, driving it into me, until my hips started moving on their own, pushing back a little every stroke.

“Mmmm,” Victor hummed. “Good girl.”

He rammed it into me faster, and the praise landed almost as hard as the toy did.

All that time staring at Henry had already wound me up, and now the pleasure had my eyes squeezed shut. My orgasm wasn’t building anymore. It was sprinting straight towards the finish line.

My hand slipped beneath me, fingers finding my clit and circling fast.

“That feel good?” Victor asked.

“Yes, sir,” I gasped. “It-it feels so—” The rest of the sentence vanished.

Everything went white, pleasure detonating through me so intense it stole the air out of my lungs. My pussy clenched violently around the toy, my hands twisting in the sheets as my whole body locked up. I wasn’t ready for it. Not like that. My legs shook, and for one hazy second, I swear I blacked out. 

When I came back, I was a total mess—limp, my fingers tingling as if I’d slept on my arm. The world snapped back into focus as Victor yanked the toy out of me, tossing it onto the bed. 

Before I could even process the sudden emptiness, his hands spread me open, and his face pushed between my cheeks.

His tongue circled my asshole, teasing around the ring until I puckered against his mouth. He flicked over it, and I held my eyes shut. It was my first time having my ass eaten, and I was very, very okay with that.

He moved lower, traveling down until his mouth found my lips. His fingers pressed into my skin, holding me exactly where he wanted. I was so wet It sounded like he was lapping water from a bowl behind me.

I tried to lift my ass higher, but there was nowhere left to go. My back was already arched so much it almost hurt. I wanted him to have the perfect angle. Wanted him to reach everywhere. 

He kept switching back and forth between my asshole and my pussy, his spit slicking everything up until the whole area behind me was a filthy, dripping mess. Chills ran down my spine every time he dragged his tongue from my clit up the seam of my cheeks, gliding his way back down, tasting every inch of me.

The second one hit, and I came again, my legs giving out beneath me. I slid onto my stomach, shaking against the covers while the aftershocks rushed through me.

Victor finally pulled back, giving me a break. “Two orgasms in less than fifteen minutes?” he said, patting my butt like I’d done something impressive. “You were a horny little thing, huh?”

“Yeah,” I moaned into the bed.

I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling while I tried to catch my breath. When I glanced down, Victor’s pants were dropping, followed by his underwear, and that monster dick sprang free, thick and ready to stretch me out.

He threw his shirt off, climbed onto the bed, and leaned back against the headboard as if he owned the place. His legs spread open, giving me the full, uncensored view of dick and balls… on my parents bed.

I’m horrible.

He patted his thigh. “Jump on, honey.”

I didn’t argue.

Not even a little.

I crawled towards him, still shaky from everything he’d already done to me. Once I reached him, I swung one leg over his hips and settled into his lap.

My hand slipped between us, fingers wrapping around him as I guided him into place. I lifted my hips, braced one hand on his shoulder, and eased myself down. His head forced me to use more of my weight than I expected before he finally started to slide in. I slowly adjusted around him, the stretch sinking deeper and deeper until my eyes started to burn.

“Jesus,” I mumbled, a tear curving down my cheek. “It’s so fucking big.”

I was literally crying over this dick.

Unbelievable.

His attention stayed on my face, watching every small reaction. “You love that stretch, don’t you?” 

I nodded, my face scrunching as I took another inch of him. “I do.”

By the time I finally made it all the way down, I was moaning, both hands on his shoulders now. I pushed more, forcing myself to take him as much as I could until my ass met the bed between his legs.

A gasp escaped out of me. All I could do was sit there, aching around him, trying to breathe through the fullness of him.

“Fuck…” he drawled. “Do you feel that? I’m all up in there.” 

“Yes,” I whimpered, the word slipping out. “You’re so deep.”

His lips curved. “Pressing up on that baby maker.”

I started to move, rolling my hips. “Don’t stop… keep talking.”

“Oh, I’ll keep talking,” he said with a hint of amusement, his hands finding my hips. “I’m going to squirt a nice fat one up in there and breed that pussy.”

“Fuck,” I mumbled.

His gaze dropped to my chest, and he licked his lips.

“You have no idea how sexy it’ll be to watch these titties grow,” He cupped both of my boobs and squeezed, his thumbs rubbing my nipples. “Watching these get swollen…” His voice dipped. “You’re going to look beautiful pregnant.”

“Please.” I rocked faster. “Do it. Knock me up.”

Oh my God.

What the hell was I saying?

“Relax, Riley,” he grinned. “I’ll give you that belly soon. Don’t you worry.”

My ass came down hard, my head tipping back as I enjoyed every filthy inch of that old pervert’s cock. He had no business fucking someone as hot as me. And somehow, that made it even hotter. Letting him get what he wanted.

“Greg’s daughter,” he said, his palm smacking my ass. “Just lettin’ me park my fat cock in her whenever I want. He’d be so pissed if he found out.” 

“I know,” I breathed, voice shaking. “I know.”

“You can come live with me when you get kicked out. I’ll keep those holes filled.”

I can’t. Just. Wow. This was hitting buttons in me I did not need to examine right now, and I was so embarrassed by how much I was into this.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m gonna come soon.”

My pace picked up before my common sense could stop me. “Fill me.”

His grip tightened on my hips. “Yeah? You want my load, Riley?”

“Fuck, yes,” I moaned. “Give it to me… Please, sir.”

“Damn.” He smiled. “What a slut.”

I leaned back, hooking one hand behind his neck as my hips found a smooth rhythm. I put my whole weight into it, grinding on him like I wanted him to feel exactly who I belonged to.

“I’m your slut.”

He slapped my ass again. “Yes, you are—” 

Victor’s words caught. 

“Oh shit. Here it comes—oh fuck.”

I sank down as far as I could, taking every bit of him. 

My body bounced once against his before I dropped fully into his lap. “Breed me.” The words shot out of my mouth too fast for my mouth to tackle them back down. 

They were a hundred percent not supposed to come out.

Victor grunted, loud, going stiff under me as the first throb hit.

My free hand moved over my stomach.

Holy shit.

His cock jerked deep inside me, pulsing hard enough to make my mouth fall open. I could already tell I was going to be extremely sore tomorrow. Maybe even later tonight.

But it wasn’t only the thickness.

It was the depth.

How far he was buried. How completely he filled me. He’d reached where no one else ever had and was unloading there, marking that place as his.

Each throb sent another stupid, risky thought through me.

I almost wished I was ovulating.

Just so he could have the satisfaction.

Responsible Riley didn’t leave the building.

She left the solar system.

My pussy clenched around him, and somehow, my body decided we were going for number three. I came hard. Way too hard for a third orgasm. It had no right lasting that long or feeling that amazing, but there I was anyway, eyes fluttering, loudly proving how good it felt.

Nothing leaked out. Not a drop. He had me completely sealed around him.

Victor caught the back of my head and pulled me into him. Our mouths met, tongues sliding together, and I kissed him right back, arms locking around his neck while I still twitched around him. 

He broke the kiss. “You glad you sent that friend home?”

I nodded, my head all floaty and useless. “Y-yes.”

When I collapsed off him, Victor grabbed a pillow and shoved it under my ass, propping my hips up.

“Let that batter bake for ten minutes,” he said with a smirk, patting my thigh. “I’m gonna smoke weed and take a nap.”

Then he got up and pulled his clothes back on as if he hadn’t just emptied himself inside me. A minute later, the front door clicked shut. And like that, he was gone. It was over.

I lay there in my parents’ bed, brain dead, officially holding a new personal record for most orgasms in one session. All because my old neighbor had shown up, and left me lying there with his creampie. 

Oh, absolutely not!

I shot up and ran straight for the bathroom.

There was going to be no baking in this oven.

Submitted for image #18 of the May contest.

Enjoy ❤️

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was staring.

Again.

A month of it now. Side-eyeing me from across the room like he was studying a dangerous animal. Nerd. Glasses. NPC hair. Valedictorian vibe. He absolutely spent his entire school career collecting first-place ribbons and correcting teachers.

You get the point.

Always sat near me. Never next to me. Close enough to look accidental. Far enough to keep it deniable. I sat in the back, obviously, and every time he walked in, he found me before he found a seat.

We locked eyes. My gum popped. I didn’t look away. 

I gave him the classic crazy chick death stare. On brand. I had the goth thing going on. 

Okay. More soft goth.

Like goth Mikasa. Specifically the final-season, dead-behind-the-eyes Mikasa. Because this hoe—me, hi, I’m Ember—was running on 300mg of trazodone daily. 

For breakfast.

Food wasn’t the only problem. If I didn’t get some sleep soon, I was going to end up back in the grippy socks. Which, to be fair, wasn’t all bad. Nice vacation from society. They had really good chocolate pudding.

For some reason, I could never find it at the store. It made me very sad.

Wait—You’re still here, right?

Sorry. I do this. I go on tangents, I forget what I was saying.

We were talking about him…

OH. Right.

He sat closer.

Much closer.

And since I was already running on the nothingness of breakfast and the pure, concentrated rage of cracking my phone screen in the parking lot fifteen minutes ago, somebody had to suffer. 

He’d volunteered by existing.

I waited until he got nice and comfortable. Notebook open. Pencil lined up.

<Prey acquired>

I grabbed my bag, stood, and crossed the aisle. He noticed immediately. I dropped into the seat beside him and acted completely normal, which made it worse for him.

He looked at me. Then the board. Then the empty seats behind us. Then back at me.

Cute.

Class started and he looked forward. I spun my pen around my fingers while the professor flipped the lights off, played some video on how to do math, and crunched chips at his desk, scrolling his phone—getting paid to do nothing.

Every time my boot shifted under the desk, his pencil paused. Every time I sat back, his gaze darted over and jerked away like he’d touched a hot stove.

Going braless was definitely the right choice today.

Naturally, I escalated things.

I pawed my pen towards the edge of the desk. It fell. Hit the floor, rolled across the carpet, and stopped right beside his shoe.

His eyes dropped to it.

Lifted to me. 

I slouched back in my chair, raised one eyebrow. “You gonna save me, Science Fair?”

He mumbled something.

“Huh? Stop mumbling.”

A blonde girl in front of us turned around and gave me a bitch face. I tilted my head and lifted one finger—what? 

She rolled her eyes and turned back around. 

“I said my name’s Atlas.”

“Like a map?”

“Yes.” He mumbled it, but he better be glad I heard him at all.

Oh did I hate mumblers. 

I nodded at the floor. “Okay, Atlas. Think you can navigate to my pen for me?” 

He picked it up, dropped it onto my desk like it might bite him, and snapped his attention back to the video. 

I gave him a few minutes.

More like thirty seconds.

I leaned over. “You always sit this close to girls you’ve been stalking for a month, or am I special?”

Atlas turned his head. His face went pink so fast I felt bad.

Not really.

“I wasn’t stalking you,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

“Sure.”

“I just—” He swallowed. “I notice you. Every time I come in… or when you walk in… You get here before me a lot. Not that I keep track or anything.” 

“That’s much less creepy. Very comforting.”

His lips parted. Closed. “You sat near me.”

“Mhm.”

Atlas faced forward again, and class dragged on. He was done humoring me. I tapped my boot against his shoe a million times and got nothing.

SO bored.

Mathematics at seven at night should’ve been illegal. Everyone in that room looked like they built satellites for fun, cried into spreadsheets for a living, or both. 

And then there was me.

The anemic ghost sitting in the back. Dark lipstick. Red plaid skirt so short it probably belonged in a bedroom.

I chewed the end of my pen and watched him not look at me. The professor finally released us an hour later. Atlas bolted. I followed the class out into the chill night air, giving up my torment for the night.

The parking lot was mostly empty. A few cars scattered under the white lights. Mine was parked in the back. You know. In case I needed to ugly cry between classes.

Atlas’ was near the back too. Not right next to mine. But close enough for me to be annoying about it.

The hunt was back on.

I stopped between our cars. 

Looked at his. 

Looked at mine. 

“Wow.”

He froze. “What?”

“Parking next to me now?”

His eyes flicked to the empty spaces between our cars. “I’m… not next to you.”

“Emotionally, you are.”

He blinked. “What does that even mean?”

I stared at him.

He stared back, visibly trying to figure out whether I’d made a joke or issued a threat.

I walked towards him aggressively.

Nervousness washed over his face. “What are you doing?”

I yanked open his passenger door, tossed my bag onto the floorboard, climbed in, and pulled it shut behind me.

Atlas stayed outside. Keys in hand.

I looked up at him through his open driver’s-side door. “Well?” 

His mouth opened. Closed. Several times.

I tilted my head to the right. “Where are you taking me?”

“I’m not taking you anywhere.”

My attention went to the big screen on his dashboard. “You got one of these fancy electric cars. Probably drives itself.” 

Atlas slid in with a sigh and shut the door. “For the record. You got in by yourself.”

“Building your defense early. Smart.” I glanced around the interior. “Bet this thing’s recording us right now.” I shifted slightly towards the dash. “Hey, car, I was tricked into this. I think he’s a pervert.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Very scary situation for me. Innocent goth girl. Empty parking lot. Nerd with glasses. Suspiciously clean car.”

“It’s not suspiciously clean.”

I looked around. “One water bottle. No trash. Serial killer behavior, dude.”

He dragged both hands down his face.

I leaned across the center console. “So what’s your plan, Science Fair?”

“My plan?”

“Mhm. You lure me in with eye contact for a month, park next to me—”

“Again, not next to you.”

“—and now you’ve got me in your car after dark.”

“You got in my car.”

“That’s what makes your plan so twisted.”

He made a sound that might’ve been a laugh if panic hadn’t grabbed it by the throat first. 

I rested my chin on my hand. “Are you going to drive me somewhere remote, tie me to a tree, and write degrading things all over my naked body with a permanent marker?” 

“That’s…” He blinked. “Oddly specific.”

“I’m trying to understand your fantasy.”

“That sounds like your fantasy.” His palms pressed flat to his jeans. “Mine was maybe saying hi without embarrassing myself.”

“Too late.”

My free hand reached over and landed on his thigh. Atlas went still. Completely frozen. His system had been unplugged. Brain officially offline. The blank look on his face was priceless.

I moved my touch higher, brushing over his crotch. “You’ve been incredibly cringe today. There’s no saving it.” 

His eyes dropped to my hand. “W-what are you doing?”

“Something you want?”

“I…” His throat bobbed. “You… yes. I mean, that should be all right.”

I dropped my voice to mimic him. “‘What does that even mean?” 

Atlas stared at my nails while they worked his button open. “Um… well.”

I pulled the zipper down slow, the teeth rasping apart.

“You—” he got out, and my hand slipped beneath the waistband of his underwear. “That’s,” he exhaled. “That’s okay. What you’re doing. Is okay.”

God, he was so adorable I wanted to crush his head and spit in his mouth.

“Nice,” I said, curling my fingers around his cock. “Is this soft, or are you already chubbing up?”

“Soft,” he said quickly, and immediately looked like he regretted answering. “I’m… a little nervous. If you can’t tell.”

“No kidding. I would have never guessed” I nodded at his jeans. “Push your pants down to your knees.”

His eyes jumped to the parking lot. “Here?!”

“You have illegal tint,” I rolled my eyes. “Nobody can see in.”

“True…”

Atlas sat there for one long second. He glanced around the lot one more time, lifted his hips, and shoved his pants and underwear down to his knees. 

I looked down. “Jungle.”

His hands slapped over himself. “It’s not like I knew this was going to happen.”

I tilted my head to the left. “Are you a virgin?”

He coughed, hard, and stared out the driver’s side window. “Yes.”

“Obviously.”

I shoved his hands out of the way and spit into my palm.

My chin stayed propped in my other hand as I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked. He looked like a deer in headlights, tracking every slide of my fingers, each pass making him harder. The head flushed a deep pink-purple, veins standing out along the length of him, and damn my mouth watered with how badly I wanted my lips on him.

“You…” His breath hitched. “You have nice hands.”

“Yeah? What about them?”

“They’re small,” Atlas whispered. “And I like your nails.”

He was a hands guy. 

I let my nails drift down the underside of his shaft, slow enough to make his cock twitch. I traced him all the way to his balls before dragging back up. When I reached the top, my thumb rubbed over the head, playing with the slit as it leaked.

Atlas’s eyes fluttered shut as I started jerking him again. A shaky moan slipped out of him, and I went faster. 

“Is this how you thought your day was going to go?” I asked. “Getting your dick played with in your car?” 

“N-no. Definitely not.”

Adorable.

Precum kept leaking from him, slicking my hand until every glide made a soft, wet sound. I could’ve dropped my mouth on him right there and sucked him empty, or climbed into his lap and let him have his first time. 

Honestly, I wanted to. I was horny as fuck, which wasn’t exactly breaking news.

And a virgin at twenty or whatever? That was rare. Part of me wanted to ruin him. Set the bar so high no woman after me would ever clear it.

Evil, I know.

But we still had a bunch of classes left together, and that was way more fun. I wanted to turn every single one into torture. I wanted him squirming in his seat, stealing looks at me, knowing exactly what I could do to him. Wondering if this would be the day I came to his car, again.

Ughhhhhh, yes.

That was way more fun.

Atlas’ face started to scrunch, and I slowed down. His whole body sagged, as if I’d yanked him back from the edge by the collar.

That was entertaining.

So I did it again.

And again.

I brought him close, watching the muscles in his thighs tense and his breath catch, then eased off right when he thought he was getting there. By the third time, he made the cutest frustrated sound, and I had to bite back a smile. 

Poor Science Fair.

Fifteen minutes later, he looked like he’d forgotten his name, his glasses on the tip of his nose.  

I stopped completely.

He looked over at me. “How… how long are we doing this?” 

“What’s that?” I asked. “You wanna cum?”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

I raised an eyebrow. “Say please. And stop fucking mumbling.” 

“Please.”

“Louder.”

His fingers curled at his side. “Please make me cum.”

I tightened my grip and stroked him faster. His head dropped back against the seat, his legs falling open as much as the cramped car would allow. His mouth parted, throat bared, and God, I wanted to put marks all over it.

“Ah—” 

That was all he managed before he came hard, shooting across his shirt in hot white bursts. He almost hit his own face, and I would’ve died laughing, so maybe it was for the best that he missed. 

“Fuck,” he moaned.

My hand kept going, dragging it out through every sensitive pulse until the last warm dribble slid down my fingers.

“Dude,” I deadpanned, looking from the mess on his shirt to his stunned face. “That’s a lot of cum.”

I lifted my hand and casually licked it off my fingers.

Salty.

I wondered if the salted caramel chocolate in my car had melted yet. That could be dinner. 

He just sat there with his glasses crooked and cum splattered all over his shirt, staring at me like I was some succubus who had milked the life out of him.

Accurate.

After cleaning my fingers, I grabbed my bag and opened the door. “See you next week, stalker.”

I got out, leaned back down, and pointed at him. “And if you don’t sit by me, I will stab you.”

His eyes went wide. “I—I’ll sit by you.”

I smiled. “Good boy.”

We woke up late, which worked out fine for me. James was already gone, out fishin’ with his buddies. More than likely runnin’ his mouth about the kitchen. 

No—There was a hundred percent chance he was.

If I pushed the embarrassment aside for a second… it was kinda hot. 

Just picturin’ it. Him out there on the lake, sayin’ my name, his friends listenin’, maybe askin’ questions he shouldn’t be answerin’. I wouldn’t wanna actually be there for it—God, no—But hearin’ what they had to say about me? If it was a recording or somethin’, I wouldn’t mind that.

Then there was Carter… All those photos. 

Ethan had sent every last one of ’em before we went to bed. It’d been late, so there wasn’t a reply. But come mornin’? His screen was blowin’ up. Notifications stacked one after another, runnin’ all the way down.

Dang.

He was in the shower when the messages started comin’ in. I’d asked him why he was even botherin’ when we were about to go swimming. He mumbled about it bein’ good to rinse off first, all quick and jittery before shuttin’ the bathroom door. 

I mean, sure. But that wasn’t really a thing that would cross Ethan’s mind normally. I had a feelin’ he was takin’ care of himself before we went downstairs.

He’d left his phone sittin’ right there on the nightstand. Which, if he was gettin’ himself off, was probably a mistake considerin’ my pictures were on there.

Listenin’ to the water runnin’, I picked it up. Paused for a second, thumb hoverin’… then unlocked it. 

At first I skimmed. Then I slowed. Line by line. The things Carter had been sayin’. Dirty. Vulgar. No filter whatsoever. And it had me gettin’ warm just readin’ it. I should’ve been offended. But I wasn’t. Not that I really could be. I’d told Ethan to send them.

I kept scrollin’.

“You gotta bring her back over man.”

“I’ll roll the good shit. Got your favorite strain. Permanent Marker. rose can hang, bake with us”

“Bro I can’t get over those titties”

“Goddamn she’s got such a pretty pussy”

“I’d tear that shit up”

“Fuckkkkk she’d look so good in doggy with those big ol’ titties hanging”

Heat crept up my neck, spreadin’ across my cheeks before I finally locked the phone.

Wow… okay.

I was done readin’.

If I didn’t stop… I was gonna end up in that shower next.

I decided to put the bikini on while I waited, pulling out the tiny plaid fabric. Never thought I’d get a chance to wear it.

After I took off my silk pajamas—Ethan still hadn’t said a word about them—I stepped into the thong bottoms first. They snapped tight on my hips, sittin’ high. But the front dipped further than I remembered from the last time I tried ’em on. Good thing I shaved yesterday before we left. ’Cause these were sittin’ right in that territory.

And yep, my cheeks were hangin’ out, no pretendin’ otherwise. That little scrap of cloth didn’t stand a chance, my rear end swallowin’ all of it.  From the right angle, you’d swear I had nothin’ on at all.

I was wearin’ poolside lingerie.

Ugh. Did I gain weight?

My hand landed on my tummy.

A tad fluffier than a few years ago, but still flat. I stored my fat in all the right places, but I didn’t need to be tempin’ my luck.

Sad… I love food.

Mama’s cookin’ was to blame. She was always dumpin’ way more fat into everything than it ever needed. But Lord, did I love her mac and cheese. A would you like some macaroni with your cheese type of deal.

The top came next. I reached behind for the back tie first, then the one at my neck. Took me a couple tries to get everythin’ seated right. This top wasn’t made for someone with my bust. There was only so much string to work with, and I was usin’ all of it. 

Side boob for days. Not like I had much of a choice. Those small triangles had one job, and I was stretchin’ ’em thin just to keep the important parts covered.

No way I was doin’ anything but sittin’ in that pool. Too much movin’ was gonna be a no-go. I’d be shocked if an areola didn’t make an appearance today. I’m sure Theo and Ethan wouldn’t be complainin’.

On a semi-related note… I was so white.

Not pale—haunt-a-house, glow-in-the-dark white. And this red bikini? It wasn’t helpin’, just drawin’ a big ol’ arrow to it. I could even see a few faint green veins across my boobs. 

I was damn near transparent… I needed a tan.

Bad.

But sunburn hurts and I am a baby about it. I’m terrible at reapplyin’ sunscreen. I’ll put it on once and act shocked four hours later when my shoulders are on fire. So the plan was to park myself near the shady end of the pool. ‘Cause if I didn’t, I was gonna skip right past tan and go straight to lobster.

There was an art to tanning for me and it required a lot of—

“That’s… small,” Ethan said, comin’ outta the bathroom in his swim trunks and a T-shirt. “Where’d you even get that?”

“Allie got it for my birthday—two years ago.”

Allie always did enjoy givin’ me clothes she knew Mama wouldn’t approve of.

I gave a little spin, landed back on my heels. “So… how crazy we feelin’ today?”

He shrugged, as though it had nothin’ to do with him. “Whatever you want.”

Yesterday sure was crazy. ‘Whatever you want’ had a lot of wiggle room.

I tilted my head. “What if I… grabbed his cock?”

Ethan went completely still. For a second, his face didn’t give me a thing. Couldn’t tell if he was shocked… or tryin’ real hard not to look excited.

After last night, that shouldn’t surprise him.

I was a bit more confident this mornin’. All the stuff I’d been doin’ lately had taken me from feelin’ like I was barely scratchin’ average to struttin’ around like a goddess. 

Maybe not a goddess. But I was gettin’ there.

“Do you want to?” he asked, real careful.

I grinned. “I kinda wanna see how big he is.”

“Uh—” Ethan stumbled over it. “Yeah… that’s—that’s fine.”

He was so adorable. 

I adjusted the straps on my hips. “You’d let me do anything, huh?”

He shrugged, as if he wasn’t thinkin’ too hard about it. “Probably.”

“Let’s go. It’s already eleven,”  I said, grabbin’ a hair tie off the nightstand and headin’ for the door. “Then I want pizza.”

I’d just got done sayin’ I was gainin’ weight.

Ethan followed me down the stairs, the bikini straps holdin’ on for dear life on each step. We hit the bottom and headed towards the livin’ room. When I came around the corner, Theo had a can of soda to his lips, watchin’ TV. 

He saw me and choked on it, pattin’ his chest, coughin’ it out.

Fair reaction. I was practically naked.

I stopped next to the couch. “You wanna jump in the pool with us?” I asked, settin’ a hand on my hip.

Theo’s eyes were doin’ everything they could not to drop. “S-sure. Let me toss my trunks on,” he said, too quick, already pushin’ off the cushion and headin’ for the stairs. “Give me ten minutes.”

Ethan and I headed out back. The heat hit me the second we stepped outside, the pool glitterin’ in the sun. A neighbor’s sprinkler tickin’ back and forth, a lawnmower hummin’ off in the distance. Blue skies stretched through the patio screen. 

Such a beautiful day. This time of the year was the best. I loved it. 

When I wasn’t getting burnt.

I walked a step ahead of him, lettin’ my hips sway more than usual.

Near the edge, I paused and reached up, gatherin’ my hair. Elbows lifted, chest pulling up as I twisted it into a quick ponytail. I glanced back real quick, and Ethan was starin’ at my ass.

“Does it look good?” I asked over my shoulder with a smile.

“Yes,” Ethan said, a little too monotone.

Compliments were painful for him weren’t they. 

I let out a huff, frowning. “That’s it?”

“Your ass looks amazing, Rose.”

My smile came right back. “Better,” I said, dippin’ my toes in. “That’s warm.”

This was going to be so relaxing. I hadn’t been in a pool in over a year. 

The back door slid shut behind me, the latch clickin’ into place. I turned to Theo comin’ out, flip-flops slappin’ against the concrete, trunks on, shirtless, towel slung around his neck.

And wow.

He was lookin’ big. Three-years-later big. Arms, shoulders, all of it. Impressive, if I was bein’ honest. Which I was. Privately. I found myself wishin’ Ethan would work out, put on some muscle. He was on the thinner side, especially next to his friends. I knew it wasn’t the nicest thought, but I was allowed to want things. 

And it’d be good for his health.

I totally thought about that part first. Just didn’t lead with it.

Ethan’s eyes clocked Theo too. So I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

I wonder if that made it hotter for Ethan. His buff friend checkin’ me out right in front of him. Or was he jealous? Knowin’ him, probably both.

Theo tossed his towel on a chair and kicked off his sandals. 

They both jumped in right off the edge, splashin’ like a couple of kids. I took my time gettin’ in. One step at a time, feelin’ the water climb up my thighs, and over my hips. Both of them actin’ as though they weren’t gawkin’ at me the whole way.

I touched the bottom and drifted back, arms out.

We chilled for a while, nobody really sayin’ much. I stayed near the shallow end, relaxing in the shade the house was castin’, arms stretched along the edge, head tipped back. 

Every now and then, I’d catch Theo lookin’ over, starin’ a second too long at my chest bobbin’ on the surface. The fabric was gettin’ real close to slippin’, but never did—just teasin’ the both of ’em.

Ethan was shoulder-deep on the other side, arms floatin’ out in front of him, watchin’ it happen, pretendin’ he didn’t notice.

A little while later my stomach reminded me it existed. 

I rubbed it under the water, frownin’. “So how about pizza? I saw a Domino’s on the way in.”

Theo floated up onto his back. “Works for me.”

“Or we could make one,” Ethan said, comin’ closer. “Homemade’s always better.”

Debatable. I’d had his scrambled eggs.

I looked at him. “Since when do you make pizza?”

“It’s not hard. Dough, sauce, extra cheese. Ton of pepperoni. Bam.”

Theo sat up. “We don’t have any of that stuff, man. There’s maybe some cheese in the fridge. And I think I saw old garlic salt in the cabinet. That’s about it.”

Sounded about right for a house with no women in it. Though I’ll hand it to ‘em, the place was clean. 

“So we’d need everything,” Ethan said, sighing. 

Theo nodded. “Pretty much.”

I let the silence sit for a second before glancing at Ethan. “You could run up to the store.”

Ethan blinked. “Me?”

“You’re the one who wants to make it from scratch.” I shrugged, sinkin’ a little deeper. “Theo and I can hold down the fort.”

Theo didn’t say a word.

Ethan’s mouth opened. Then he closed it. Looked at me again. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll go.”

Good boy.

“Get mozzarella,” I called after him as he started for the stairs. “The fresh kind. Not that shredded bag stuff.”

“Anything else?”

I tilted my head. “Surprise me.”

Ethan climbed out, tryin’ to play it off with that not-so-subtle side shuffle, snatchin’ his towel as though it might save him. He didn’t look back, just made a beeline for the door, wet footprints stampin’ the path behind him.

He had a boner.

The door clapped shut, and it was only Theo and me. Neither of us said a thing. Not for a good five minutes. Ethan’s truck fired up, and rolled off, the sound driftin’ farther till it faded out completely.

“You gonna talk, or are we just gonna float here like two pool noodles?” It came out with a little more huffy than I meant.

Theo laughed. “Sorry. It’s… it’s been a while.”

“It’s been almost three years.”

“How’s your mama? She still treat you like you’re twelve?”

“I didn’t even tell her about this trip till the last second ‘cause I knew she’d have a whole list. ‘Who’s gonna be there? Are there boys? Are y’all sleepin’ in the same house?’” I dropped my voice the way Mama does when she’s convinced she’s bein’ reasonable. “‘Rose, you better not be drinkin’.’”

Theo shook his head, grinnin’. “She’s never gonna change.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

He moved a bit closer. “So what’ve you been up to? Ethan said you’re in school.”

“Kinda. Doin’ my associate’s. Online.”

“Nice. Where at?”

“Community college back home. Nothin’ fancy.” I let my legs float up in front of me, watchin’ my toes break the surface. “It’s takin’ forever, though. Goin’ on three years now for a two-year degree.”

Theo was noddin’, but he was a tad distracted. 

“What about you?” I asked. “Ethan never tells me anything useful. Or I get a one-word answer.”

Theo leaned back against the wall, arms stretched out on the ledge. “We don’t really talk about serious stuff. It’s usually football and—” He paused. “Mostly football.”

I snorted. “Male friendships are so strange.”

“Got a job at a warehouse nearby. Pays good.” He rolled his shoulders like it already hurt. “Give it a few more years and my back’s gonna be done.”

The shade had pulled back while we were talkin’, the sun sittin’ right on top of us now. I could feel it cookin’ my face.

“You got any sunscreen?”

Theo nodded. “Yup. One sec.”

He got outta the pool, drippin’, and jogged inside. Came back a minute later with a bottle, waded back in, and handed it over.

“Thanks,” I said, grabbin’ it from him.

I drifted towards the stairs, till the water sat right at my hips.

Squeezed a glob into my hand and worked it across my shoulder, over my arm, takin’ my time about it. I didn’t have to look to know Theo was watchin’. Boy had his eyes glued to my hands, trackin’ every motion.

I held the bottle out to him. “Get my back?”

He stared at me like I’d asked him to defuse a bomb.

“Theo.”

“Yeah—yeah, sure.” He took it from me, snappin’ out of whatever short circuit was happenin’ behind his eyes.

He came over and I turned, pullin’ my ponytail forward. The tip of the bottle pressed between my shoulder blades, drawing a line down my spine.

“Gotta draw a line first,” he said. “Globbin’ it all in one spot’s the worst way to do it.”

His calloused palms started workin’ the lotion into my shoulders in circles, fingertips brushin’ up the side of my neck. It felt amazing, like I was gettin’ a massage. I even had to catch myself at one point, tryin’ not to moan.

“Maybe you oughta look into massage therapy,” I said with a small chuckle. “You got some strong hands.”

Not gonna lie… That pressure was growin’ low just from his hands on my back. Little ridiculous how fast I got hot and bothered. Sometimes I swear I’ve got the libido of a guy. I’d been blowin’ off a lot of that energy in the shower lately. More than I should admit. All this naughty stuff had my imagination runnin’ wild, which made it real easy to get down to business.

“Thanks,” Theo said. “Probably from liftin’ all those boxes at work.”

His touch traveled lower until a finger caught the strap of my top. The whole thing was surreal, like time dragged as the string loosened and the knot gave way. My breast slipped free, droppin’ with a soft bounce. 

“Fuck—my bad,” Theo said, jerkin’ his hands back.

Oh noooo. Insert sarcasm.

This was the easiest way this could’ve happened without me havin’ to force it.

I reached back and finished the job, loosin’ the neck and lettin’ the whole thing slip free. It fell forward, floatin’ off as the jet near the wall pushed it.

 “It’s fine. Was kinda in the way for you anyway.”

Theo was quiet.

“Well?” I glanced back. “You gonna finish or what?”

Reality settled back in, and his hands found me again, slower this time. Way slower. Every pass careful, like he was tryin’ not to touch too much. Not gonna lie, it annoyed me. He was bein’ a good friend to Ethan… and that’s not somethin’ I wanted right now.

After a minute, he muttered, “Done.”

Welp. Guess it was time to stop bein’ polite about it.

I spun around and gave him the full, high-definition view. My arms shifted, pressin’ in at the sides, pushin’ my boobs together without makin’ it obvious.

Theo’s eyes dropped, fast, lockin’ right onto my nipples. 

His mouth fell open a second later, the bottle slippin’ free from his hand and ploppin’ into the water, floating between us.

I really enjoyed flashin’ guys. That first oh shit look on their face? Lord, it was addictin’. Almost felt like a game. How quick I could hit ’em with it, watch it land, like they’d been smacked upside the head with a fryin’ pan.

“You wanna do the front?” I asked, keepin’ my face neutral. “Since you’re such a pro.”

“Uh… that—um… wow,” Theo stammered. “Y-yeah. I can do… the—” He cut himself off, swallowin’. “The front. The skin.”

Theo’s brain had packed up and left the building. His hands came up, hesitatin’ for a moment before grabbin’ my boobs, squeezin’.

Did… did he forget what he was doin’?

I raised a brow. “You puttin’ sunscreen on ’em?”

“Right—Sorry,” Theo said quickly. “Forgot the lotion.”

“Mmhm.”

He fished the bottle outta the water and squeezed a little more into his palm, settin’ it on the pool’s edge before spreadin’ it. Half rubbin’, half coppin’ a feel. Still pretendin’ this was just him helpin’ me out.

Sunscreen slicked his thumbs, draggin’ over my nipples like he had a controller in his hands. Circlin’. Pressin’. Workin’ it in nice and easy—

Till they tightened, and I saw his face light up. ’Nough to almost make me laugh.

I sure wasn’t gettin’ sunburned on my nipples anytime soon.

We were standin’ real close now. Close enough I had to tilt my head back, givin’ him the doll eyes.

This boldness on my side didn’t come outta nowhere. Theo had always been cute—even more so now—and truthfully, I’d had a small crush on him back in the day. But I was with Ethan, so it got filed under never.

Oh boy,  I was about to make some bad decisions.

Was I really this easy to turn on? Who the hell was this version of me? I’d gone from zero to ma’am, behave yourself in about five seconds flat. Or maybe it wasn’t a version at all. Maybe this was me now. Church-girl Rose, lettin’ anyone’s hands explore her curves.

A rush bloomed in my chest. My hand moved before I could stop it, slidin’ past his waistband while he reached for more lotion.

“Rose, what are you—”

I found him. Already hard, no surprise there. My fingers curled around him, and I began strokin’, feelin’ that thick shaft in my palm.

“Shush,” I murmured. “Wow… you’re kinda big.”

“Yah?” Theo breathed. “You… like it?”

Whoa. I didn’t expect him to lean into it that fast. Poor Ethan… man didn’t have a single friend with any self-control. But then again, I was standin’ there with my boobs out, hand in Theo’s trunks. Hard to blame him.

“I do,” I said, grinnin’.

I slid my other forearm under the ladies, liftin’ them.

Theo’s eyes went wide as saucers. “Rose… this… Ethan…” he whispered, like he didn’t know what part to focus on. “Those are… real nice.”

I smirked, still strokin’ him below the water. “Mm-hmm.”

This was way too fun.

His attention finally comin’ off my chest and onto my eyes. “I’ve been wantin’ to see your tits for a long time.”

“Was it worth the wait?”

He nodded. “Yes. They’re fuckin’ perfect.”

God… I really wanted to kiss him… but should I?

I don’t know why, but kissin’ felt more intimate than him touchin’ my body… That didn’t stop me from suckin’ face with his dad. 

Screw it! I was already jerkin’ him off.

I dropped my arms and hooked one around him, yankin’ him in as I pressed my lips to his. His tongue pushed into my mouth right away, kissin’ me aggressively, like he’d been dreamin’ on it. I removed my hand from his trunks and wrapped both arms around his neck, holdin’ him there. 

His hands dropped to my butt, grabbin’ both cheeks as I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him in tight, my boobs pressin’ up against his muscles—makin’ me squeal a little inside… he was so sexy.

And then we really started makin’ out.

Theo had some pent-up energy for me. No doubt about that. He was squeezin’ my ass like it was his now, fingertips diggin’ in rough. And I was a hundred percent fine with that.

He broke away, his lips draggin’ over my throat, and my head tipped. Part of me registered the way he was suckin’ at my skin and knew he was one step off leavin’ a mark.

But rational Rose?

She’d clocked out for the day.

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” came out of his mouth, and my eyes popped open, starin’ straight up through the screen.

Oh.

Well…

That was blunt.

I let out a nervous laugh, looking back down. “We don’t got time for that.”

So much for all that confidence. 

Turns out, I still needed a minute for that… even if part of me wanted it more than anything. ’Cause Jesus, I wanted it—wanted to have sex—and my patience was wearing thin. I was literally the only virgin in my friend group. It was kinda impressive I’d faked my way this far without any of them catchin’ on that Ethan and I had never done it.

But not today. Not in the pool.

Theo groaned. “Okay… but can I fuck your tits? Real fast.”

Ethan was really outta sight, outta mind for him right now.

“We can do that,” I said, way too eager. “On the stairs?”

“Yeah,” Theo said, just as fast.

Didn’t know how much time we had before Ethan came back, but he’d probably finish before.

I slid off him, takin’ his hand and guidin’ him toward the steps before droppin’ where the water sat at my hips. Theo shoved his trunks off and tossed ’em onto a chair nearby.

My eyes went straight to his dick, hard, a slight curve to it. James had him beat in the size department, but not by much. He wasn’t small. Not even close. Same rosy-purple head, veins runnin’ thick down the shaft.

I couldn’t believe I’d seen both less than a day apart. 

This was insane. 

I was really gonna make both father and son come, hours apart. This was so naughty. Kinda taboo… and that made it even more arousin’ for me.

Dear Lord… forgive me, for I have sinned.

And I’ma do it again.

Theo stepped in close, and I tipped forward a little as he lined himself up, knees bendin’ as the half bottle of lotion on my boobs had him glidin’ through easy. He began thrustin’ while I squeezed ’em together with my forearms, holdin’ him there, addin’ some drag as my nipples pressed against him.

I thought it might be kinda boring, but no. Feelin’ him buried, watchin’ his face go hazy, straight-up losin’ his mind to my tits?

Not even a little boring.

“Do… do they feel good?” I asked, my voice comin’ out lower than I meant—this was a smidge embarrassin’.

“Yes,” Theo breathed. “I can’t believe you’re lettin’ me do this.”

I looked up at him, bitin’ my lip and I had to look cute, ’cause that was all it took to set him off.

“Oh—fuck, I’m gonna blow,” he choked out.

Theo drove in, and his whole body locked up, a deep groan rumblin’ out of him as he lost it. Warm cum splashed up under my chin, then onto my neck, leakin’ down as he throbbed between my chest, only his swollen tip left peeking out.

He didn’t move, just stayed there, ridin’ it out, groanin’ and moanin’. 

And my mind went straight to horny town.

What if I ended up bent over that stair railin’, palms braced, Theo pushin’ into me from behind?

What would it be like inside me—him comin’ in me, givin’ me his seed. Him plantin’ it deep.

What… what if Ethan came back… and saw me getting used?

Just thinkin’ about it had my cheeks blushin’, and my legs squirming below the water.

Once he was done, I let my chest spill to the side and leaned back against the steps, givin’ him a clear view of the mess he’d made. “This stays between us, alright?” I said, winking at him. “Our little secret.”

He nodded, still lookin’ dazed.

I dipped back into the pool, rinsin’ myself off. By the time I found my top and pulled myself out, Theo hadn’t moved an inch. He was just standin’ there, hard, starin’ ahead like he was still tryin’ to catch up.

That got a breathy laugh outta me.

“I’m gonna run inside and grab my phone real quick,” I said, stoppin’ at the top of the stairs. “You might wanna put your trunks back on.”

That finally did it, as if I’d snapped right in front of his face.

“Ah—yeah. I should.”

I pointed at him, narrowin’ my eyes. “And you better act normal when Ethan gets here.”

He straightened up and gave me a goofy salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

I padded over and slid the door open. Still damp, the AC hitting, goose bumps prickling up both arms. My path to the stairs cut right past the front door, so naturally that’s the exact moment it swung open.

And I was thinkin’, oh, Ethan.

Wrong. 

So wrong.

James walked in, one of his buddies on his heels in their fishin’ getup.

Already? They’re done? When my papa went fishin’, he was gone all day. And it was barely past noon.

Their eyes dropped fast. No shame about it. Right to my chest. My top danglin’ off my finger.

I should’ve put that back on.

Too late now.

“Rose, come meet my friend Larry,” James said with a big smile, gesturin’ me over.

Why not? At this point, what was one more set of eyes?

I walked over, and Larry stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Rose. I’ve heard all about you.”

He dressed like every dad at every lake house I’d ever been to. Fishin’ shirt, sunglasses sittin’ on the brim of his hat, the whole picture. It was almost funny how complete it was.

“Hopefully good things?” I said, taking his hand, smilin’ as if I wasn’t standin’ there topless, drippin’ on the floor.

“Of course”—His eyes dropped—“That is a beautiful rack, by the way.”

I stared at him for a second.

He really said that out loud, huh?

“Well…” I pulled myself together quick, flashin’ him my sweetest smile. “Thank you.”

He nodded, all pleased with himself.

I took my hand back. “Nice meetin’ you—but I left my phone upstairs. I’ll be back.”

James’s hand passed over my ass. “Hopefully. Without the top.”

“Ha—uh… maybe.”

James and Larry grinned at each other, not even tryin’ to hide it.

He gave my ass a quick pat.

And I went.

Up the stairs, feelin’ their eyes on my ass the whole way. Probably whisperin’ to each other about it.

The second I was in the bedroom I shut the door and leaned my back against it. That was a whole lot less horrifyin’ than I thought it would be.

Then my heart caught up. Poundin’ like it had been waitin’ for the door to close, that bold front droppin’ clean off now that nobody was around. Everything I’d done came rushin’ in at once.

But it wasn’t panic or embarrassment. 

It was the thrill of it all.

After my pulse settled some, I made my way to the bathroom, plantin’ my palms flat on the counter, head down, lettin’ out a long breath.

“You did it,” I told my reflection. I straightened up, meetin’ my own eyes. “You did it, Rose.”

The high wouldn’t let go. I couldn’t stop smilin’.

I think I had officially gotten over that bullyin’ from school. Those girls were just jealous I was gorgeous and busty. My face was a ten outta ten, and nobody on this God’s green earth was gonna tell me otherwise. Bein’ all self-conscious about it seemed so silly now I almost laughed.

Rose Parker was a goddess.

End of story.

Hell, I’d even wear cow-print now. That’s how over it I was.

My stomach let out the most unattractive growl.

Ethan better get back soon ‘cause I was fixin’ to pass out from lack of food.

I flung my bottoms off, ducked into the shower, and rinsed off quick. When I came out with a towel wrapped around me, Ethan was already back, standin’ there as though he’d appeared outta thin air.

“Uh, hey,” he said, lookin’ me over. “I’m guessin’ things went… well? Theo’s actin’ weird, and James is downstairs talkin’ about you walkin’ around topless.”

Fantastic job actin’ normal, Theo. I expected James to be a loudmouth, but I figured Theo could’ve dialed up the act a little. Good thing Ethan was already in on it.

“Yeah,” I said, keepin’ my voice so even it surprised me. “Theo fucked my tits.” I gestured vague toward the front of the house. “And James and his buddy walked in right as I was headin’ upstairs.”

Ethan blinked at me for a second. “I’ve never heard you say the word… ‘tits.’”

I stared at him, deadpan. “That’s what you’re focusin’ on?”

“Sorry.” 

I clapped my hands together once. “Anywayyyy. While we were makin’ out—”

“You?” Ethan cut in, brows pullin’ together. “Made out?”

“Yes,” I said quickly, not lettin’ him derail me. “So, during that, he said he wanted to fuck me.”

Ethan’s face went completely blank. “What’d you say?”

“I told him we didn’t have time. Which—we didn’t.” I shrugged. “And it’s a good thing it stopped when it did. James could’ve walked in while Theo was going to town on my boobs.”

Ethan nodded at me as if I was layin’ out instructions he needed to follow. “You look like you had fun.”

“Oh,” I drifted over to the bed, flopping down. “I did.”

“That’s good.”

I let myself fall back onto the mattress, Lookin’ up at the ceiling a second before lettin’ out a slow breath. “I think I’m into this whole hot-girlfriend thing.” My head turned towards him.

Still standin’ there. Still processin’ it all.

And I saw it, a bulge pressin’ against his shorts. He was eatin’ this up. 

Also, those were heart-eyes. The same one he got after I did slutty things. Just starin’ at me like I’d hung the moon. 

And it made me want to take it further. I was chasin’ that look. No doubt about it. Not that I wasn’t enjoyin’ it myself, ’cause I was. I mean, I get to mess around with guys and still have a boyfriend? That’s a pretty good deal.

Plus I get that expression from him every time?

Might’ve been a bit dramatic, but I think I’d won the lottery, if I do say so myself.

I should ask him somethin’ crazy. Right now. Just to see what he’d say. Because the way he was lookin’ at me? He’d answer anythin’.

“So…” I said, keepin’ it as casual as I could. “Who would you want me to fuck first?”

The silence went on.

“I don’t know,” Ethan said, as if he hadn’t frozen up for a full half minute.

“Okay, hypothetically,” I went on, pushin’ up onto my elbow. “James, Theo, or Carter. You gotta pick one.”

“Uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, already lookin’ cornered. “I don’t—”

“Come on,” I cut in, rollin’ onto my side to face him. “First one that pops into your head.” I flipped the towel open, bringin’ my boobs into this little tug-of-war. “You really think you’re sayin’ no to me right now?”

“Vote in the Poll”