Author: Momo Chan

“I can’t take it… You’re too good at this…” On the silent practice field, I lay prostrate on the ground, my rear hiked high, letting him roughly pull my ponytail, allowing him to do whatever he pleased with me. In a haze, I felt myself slipping into a strange state, an intensifying hunger for even rougher treatment… My name is Riley Miller, a freshman at the Performing Arts College, specializing in dance. Because of my looks and figure, many guys saw me as an untouchable, aloof goddess, too intimidated to ask me out. But they had no idea that since puberty, a powerful urge for intimacy had awakened within me. I’d even… more than once fantasized about being completely overpowered and taken by multiple strong men. And it all started that one night. My parents were always busy with work, often not getting home until after midnight. These late hours were my absolute free time. As usual, I’d snuck into their master bedroom and opened their computer, planning to play some games. Instead, I found a string of blush-inducing titles in the playback history: “Prime Housewife Cheating on Husband with 5 Alpha Males.” “Innocent Campus Queen’s Passionate Bout with Black Men.” “…” The content of these videos was invariably the same: several powerful, muscular men surrounding a beautiful, naked woman, manipulating her luscious body as they pleased. A fierce wave of shame made me want to retreat. Yet, my eyes were completely beyond my control, mesmerized, fixated on the screen as the woman was left breathless, writhing in ecstasy, biting the sheets and rolling her eyes back. Growing up, my mom’s strict upbringing and my dance training had taught me to always maintain a ladylike poise and discretion. I was to avoid sitting immodestly in skirts at all times. No talking to boys, no staying out past curfew, and definitely no early relationships. So that was my first time seeing an adult man’s naked body. And it was my first time realizing that men could be as wild and untamed as bulls. And that a woman could, apparently, accommodate so many men at once. Under such intense stimulation, my breathing grew more ragged, and I involuntarily slipped my hand under my nightgown, exploring gently. From that day on, every night I would hide under my covers, fantasizing about being roughly handled by several strong men, while soothing my own body. Only when my strength was completely drained could I finally fall asleep peacefully. I had been distressed, unsure how to manage my seemingly bottomless desires. But on the very first day of freshman orientation camp, I finally got a taste of that intoxicating sensation. That day, I was in a dream, being tossed and turned by two burly men, when I was suddenly roused by my roommate from the bunk below. “Riley, wake up! Formation call!” “What?! Why didn’t my alarm go off?” Being late for orientation was a serious offense. Seeing my roommates rushing off, I didn’t even have time to change my underwear, grabbing my camouflage uniform and hurrying downstairs, pulling it on as I ran. But I was still late. A tall, powerfully built man, easily six-foot-three, stood at the stairwell, clutching a stopwatch, his face grim. His eyes were sharp, fixed on me. Seeing his stern expression, my heart sank. I didn’t even hesitate at the last two steps, jumping down directly and sneaking to the back of the line, head bowed. My ankle felt a little twisted, but I didn’t pay it any mind then. What I was concerned about was that I’d forgotten to wear a bra. Yes, my breasts were quite full, and it was obvious when I walked without a bra. After that jump, they bounced conspicuously. And the coach must have seen it because his gaze lingered on my chest for an extra few seconds. It was utterly humiliating. “My name is Ryan Thompson, and I’m your coach!” “Regarding discipline, I will emphasize only one thing: obedience!” I thought the coach had let me off the hook, and I breathed a sigh of relief. But during the marching drills, he singled me out again, claiming my kicks were off and I needed individual training. I couldn’t rejoin the squad until I perfected them, otherwise, I’d drag the whole team down. “No strength, just flimsy!” Ryan stood beside me, taking my leg and adjusting my posture. “Stand tall, don’t move.” We were at the very back of the line. The students in front were all standing at attention, no one looking back, so naturally, no one saw his hand on my leg. The uniforms issued by the school were thin, so thin I could even feel the warmth of his palm. Suddenly, I remembered my spring dream from the night before. The faces of the two super-strong men in my dream, once blurry, now began to sharpen, transforming into Ryan Thompson’s face. He peeled off my uniform, pressing me down onto the bed, riding me like a horse. His hard muscles, infinite strength, and astonishing stamina – everything about him drove me wild. Just then, Ryan’s hand gradually shifted lower, his large palm cupping half my buttock, kneading gently twice. “Tighten your glutes,” he murmured. In my dream, he had said something like: “Slut, hike that ass higher.” “Ugh…” As I thought of that unspeakable image, a ticklish, numb sensation instantly spread between my thighs, as if ants were crawling there. My buttocks involuntarily clenched inwards, and I let out a soft moan. Ryan turned his head to look at me. “Coach,” I whimpered, “I don’t feel good.” “Where do you not feel good?” “I can’t quite say.” “You’ll get used to it.” No sooner had he spoken than he pressed his entire body against my back, one hand resting on my lower abdomen, the other cupping my breast, embracing me completely. “Stomach in, chest out, hips tucked.” Besides my most intimate area, I had three other sensitive spots: my earlobes, my neck, and my chest. Just a light touch to any of these would trigger an immediate reaction. So, the moment Ryan’s hands landed on them, I felt a delicious tingle, a delightful ache that almost made me wet myself. But I didn’t feel any discomfort. In fact, I deliberately pushed my chest out, craving him to go further. I don’t know how long it lasted, just as I thought Ryan’s hand would slip under my clothes any second, he suddenly pulled away. Losing that firm contact, I felt as if a piece of my heart had been ripped out, leaving me hollow and intensely uncomfortable. The pleasure halted abruptly, and the emptiness multiplied. My legs went weak, and my body involuntarily swayed to the side. Thankfully, Ryan caught me. I stumbled into his broad, solid chest, my inner thigh landing squarely on his hand. Feeling Ryan’s fingers hook upward, I impulsively reached out and ran my hand across his lower abdomen. So powerful! How did he manage to stuff that monstrosity into his pants? It was even more exaggerated than in the adult films I’d watched. I wanted to devour him whole. “You…” Ryan’s words started, then abruptly stopped. I secretly glanced at him, only to see him staring intently at my crotch. A quick glance down confirmed that the camouflage pants were of terrible quality. Somehow, they’d ripped open, right at my groin, completely exposing me. “Ah…” I let out a soft gasp, quickly covering myself, and looked at him with a pout. “I have new training uniforms in my room. Come with me.” With that, Ryan dismissed the squad. Once only the two of us remained on the field, he scooped me up, carried me into the adjacent staff dormitory, set me down on a cot, and locked the door. In the confined space, he finally dropped the act. First, he smoothed my hair back, then with a quick tear, he ripped my uniform in half, revealing my smooth, unblemished skin beneath. “Same uniform, but why do you make it look so slutty?” “Coach…” I knelt on the cot, my throat dry with nerves. “Slut! You’re nothing but a slut!” He scoffed. “Not even wearing a bra, just trying to tempt men, huh?” Then, without room for refusal, he gripped my cheeks, forcing my mouth open, and inserted two fingers inside, swirling them around my tongue. In that instant, the sensation of being utterly dominated by a man reached its peak. “Mmmph mmmph…” I didn’t hesitate. Just like the women in the videos, I sucked on his fingers, looking up at him, my tongue teasing and producing wet, squelching sounds. It was incredibly shameful, yet it ignited a burning heat within me. Soon, saliva dribbled from the corner of my mouth, down my chin, and onto my chest. A surge of even greater excitement and stimulation flooded my heart, because Ryan had already pulled down his pants. The moment I’d been longing for was finally about to happen… Knock knock knock. Just then, a knock at the door suddenly echoed, shattering the atmosphere in the room. “Ryan, are you in there?”

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“Did you… hook up with someone?” My face burned crimson as Liam, my handsome and charismatic desk partner, tossed the crumpled note onto my desk. “Th-that’s absurd!” I stammered. “Then why’s your chest bigger? Another growth spurt?” My name is Ashley, a dance major student aspiring to enter a prestigious arts program. Two days ago, during a large lecture, the professor was showing a documentary on the big screen. The other students were whispering amongst themselves. I wasn’t really paying attention, so I snuck into the back corner and started catching up on my favorite show. Suddenly, I felt a warmth near my ear. Liam leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “Hey, pretty desk partner, I just realized you have the biggest chest in class.” “Of course I do. I’m a D-cup, you know.” I proudly lifted my chin. Liam whistled, then put on a wolfish grin. “I don’t believe it. Unless you let me touch.” Hearing his unfiltered remark, a flush spread across my face. “No way, you pervert!” “I’ve always used you as my… inspiration,” he said, still grinning. My face instantly flared. What was I supposed to say to that? Should I admit I’d fantasized about him too? Seeing my silence, Liam poked my waist. The unexpected tickle made me flinch, and I instinctively shrunk back, worried about other students noticing our antics. “What now?” I mumbled. He leaned his upper body closer, tucking an earbud into my ear. “Want to see something good?” With that, he unlocked his phone and pulled up a video. A series of heart-pounding moans filled my ear. On the screen, a woman was kneeling on a bed, pinned down by a strong man. She rolled her eyes back, her pleas sounding less like pain and more like pure abandon, sparking all sorts of wild thoughts. “I don’t think her butt is as good as yours,” Liam compared seriously, his eyes glued to the screen. Even though I hadn’t been in a real relationship yet, the guys in class constantly talked about girls, and they often made suggestive comments about my figure. My best friend, Sarah, had even blushed and secretly told me about her hotel escapades with her boyfriend, showing me little videos they’d recorded. In this environment, I’d long passed the stage of blushing at adult films. But watching one in class? That was a whole new level of scandalous! I quickly averted my gaze, only to find Liam staring at me, a playful arch in his brow. “Too scared to watch?” Under the bright classroom lights, his features were sharp and defined. Despite the roguish smile on his face, his undeniable good looks shone through. I feigned indifference, shifting my gaze back to the screen. “Pffft, I’ve seen tons of stuff like this.” The couple on the phone changed positions. I tried to force myself not to overthink, while Liam’s breathing seemed to merge with my own quickening heartbeat. Just then, Liam’s hand slowly moved, settling on my leg, gently stroking. “Mmm…” Through the thin fabric, I could clearly feel the warmth of his palm. His hot breath brushed against my ear, and I couldn’t help but gasp softly. I clenched my legs tightly and pressed his hand down. “Don’t mess around! Aren’t we watching the movie?” “You watch yours, I’ll touch mine. We’ll mind our own business,” his voice had grown a little husky, his warm breath fanning my ear. I involuntarily shivered, trying to relax my body. Given my unspoken consent, Liam’s hand moved upwards, tracing a path along my waist. A jolt of electricity ran through me, and that indescribable urge intensified. I tried to ignore his touch, but the seemingly gentle caress felt like a current, waves of tingling spreading from my chest, easily disrupting my breathing. My feet felt weak, half my body numb. The thrill of doing something forbidden in broad daylight, coupled with the scandalous moans from the earbuds, made the woman’s pleasure in the video seem to align with my own. If… if Liam and I were to do that… Thinking of that unspeakable image, my whole body trembled, every bone melting into jelly. I couldn’t help but close my eyes slightly. “G-gently…” Just then, I felt a sudden emptiness in my chest— Liam’s hand had moved too much, unhooking my bra strap. “What do I do?!” I snapped out of my daze, my eyes wide with panic. I clutched my chest, agitated. “Quick! Help me clasp it back!” Liam hadn’t expected this accident either. He obediently moved his hand up my side, under my shirt. Without the thin fabric as a barrier, his hot palm pressed directly against my skin, even hotter than before. When he finally found the two small clasps, I quickly straightened my back, making it easier for him to see. But Liam fumbled for a few moments, struggling to align the hooks. Just as my impatience grew, my shirt was suddenly lifted, and Liam actually bent down and slipped his hand further under my clothing! His somewhat stiff black hair brushed against my back, sending subtle shivers down my spine. I bit my lip, terrified of making a sound in the classroom. His breath, now unhindered, brushed against my skin, making my sensitive body even weaker. By the time Liam finally managed to clasp it, I was practically melting into my seat. Ding-a-ling… The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Without waiting for Liam to call me, I grabbed my books and bolted, not even looking back. I rushed into the dorm bathroom, tearing off my clothes. Sure enough, my skin felt a little flushed. Liam really went all out, didn’t he? How could he be so rough? After showering and washing away the stickiness, my roommates saw me emerge from the bathroom, flushed. They didn’t think much of it, instead chattering about gossip. “Liam has a game tomorrow. Are you going to watch?” Sarah asked casually, sitting across from me. I quickly shook my head, feigning indifference. “A bunch of guys running around? What’s so special about that?” Sarah thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess not.” A few seconds later, she swooned again. “But Liam is so handsome, and he has an eight-pack… I wonder if he’s just as good in bed.” Watching Sarah wiggle her hips, looking like she wanted to strip naked and throw herself at him, I glanced down. It almost felt like Liam’s hand was still on my thigh. “Ah…” Thinking of those agile hands, I let out a low gasp, a shiver running through me. This was the first time I’d ever felt anything like this. My whole body felt out of control, far more stimulating than when I touched myself. I indulged in these fantasies for a while, even through dinner, until I received a message from Liam. “Want to take a walk on the track? Wear that white miniskirt you wore the other day.” I wasn’t stupid; of course, I knew what he meant. Especially with the specific request for the miniskirt. He clearly hadn’t gotten enough touching this afternoon. He wanted to keep messing with me! When I arrived at the track, filled with anticipation, Liam was waiting by the bleachers. He put his phone away, studying me from head to toe. “Good girl,” he said with a smile. My face burned. “I didn’t wear it for you.” Liam took my hand, leading me to a secluded spot behind the bleachers. He leaned in, whispering into my ear, “Still looks good.” The next second, I was firmly pressed against him, his lips on mine. The surroundings were quiet, but the air suddenly thickened with an unspoken intensity. My already flushed body felt hot all over, my cheeks and ears practically on fire. Without realizing it, I lifted my hands and slipped them under Liam’s t-shirt. A hazy thought drifted through my mind: his abs are so hard… Liam pulled away from my mouth, panting softly. “You learn fast, don’t you?” I buried my face in his chest, frantically exploring his body with my hands, hurried gasps escaping my lips. “So… you can touch me… but I can’t touch you?” “Then let me teach you something even better.” With that, Liam lifted my skirt…

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To Save My Dad, I Became a Delivery Doll I had to personally experience what he bought, right in front of him! It could be a mineral water bottle as thick as a forearm, or fruit covered in menacing barbs. But what truly broke me, what I couldn’t accept, was that fascia gun delivery… I was a Product Experience Provider for Deliveries. To put it plainly, beyond just dropping off the order, I also had to personally use the items as per the client’s request. Clients, though, preferred to call us ‘The Curios’! My first order was to deliver a pack of sanitary pads to Willow Creek Apartments, Building A, Unit 706. That meant I’d have to demonstrate using them right in front of the client! I don’t know how long I stood at the base of Building A’s stairwell before I finally mustered the courage to step onto the landing. By the time I came to, Unit 706’s door was slowly opening. The client looked about forty, balding, with a bloated, pasty face stubbled with dark hairs. His thick-rimmed glasses completed the picture of a stereotypical creep from a movie. I instinctively recoiled a step, my knuckles tightening around the package of sanitary pads until they turned white. My best friend, Lily, had warned me not to take it. Willow Creek was a run-down complex on the city’s outskirts, mostly home to transient workers. That instability, she’d explained, meant they might do things well outside the order’s explicit terms! But I had no choice. My dad had been working construction recently and was in an accident; a steel rebar had pierced his kidney. Emergency surgery only pulled him from immediate danger. I had three months to scrounge up the funds for a kidney transplant. “Excuse me, is this for order number 5689, for…” My voice trailed off. Because his eyes, magnified behind the lenses, felt like twin headlights suddenly switched on in the dark, blinding and disorienting. That kind of gaze made sense. I was only wearing a flimsy, white floral slip dress, barely long enough to cover my upper thighs, giving the impression that one wrong move, and he’d get quite the view. Even though I’d braced myself countless times, having a strange man undress me with his eyes like that still made terror bloom in my chest. “That’s me. Get in here, quickly.” The client’s voice held a desperate, excited edge. The apartment reeked of stale cigarette smoke and an unidentifiable, musky odor. The whole place was a pigsty, but what really stood out were the crumpled wads of tissue paper piled high on the living room sofa. He snatched the sanitary pads from my hand as if claiming a prize. “Bathroom’s over there. Put it on, then come out and show me.” He tore open the packaging with precise speed, clearly not his first time. A repeat customer? The thought flashed through my mind, and my stomach clenched. In our line of work, repeat customers were the most frightening. New clients were usually reserved; even if they had a particular interest, they rarely dared to cross the line during the product experience. But repeat customers were different. They knew the platform’s nature all too well. The client was king. As long as they didn’t do anything that explicitly crossed the bottom line, we had to obey their instructions. Otherwise, one bad review, and we’d lose 80% of our commission! I took a deep breath, forcing an official, polite smile, and pulled an overnight pad from the pack. “Of course.” I chose the overnight pad because it was larger, less likely to reveal too much. “When you come out, just your underwear, got it?” My foot, already mid-step towards the bathroom door, froze in mid-air. 2 Gritting my teeth, I mumbled an acknowledgment and stepped inside. I stared at my reflection, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within me. I was beautiful. Long hair, an oval face, D-cup bust, and stood at a statuesque 5’7”. Thanks to my yoga practice, the rest of my figure was perfectly toned and proportionate. More importantly, my skin was porcelain-smooth and fair. Lily always said it was like tender tofu, begging to be bitten. Once, I’d felt privileged by my looks. Now, I wished I were ugly. Because I couldn’t guarantee that this almost flawless body, laid bare before a stranger, might tempt him to cross the line into something criminal! “Ready yet?” “Y-yes, almost!” No sooner had I changed than the bathroom door was pushed open. I jumped. Only then did I realize the lock on the bathroom door was broken! A loud gulp echoed in the small space, booming in my mind long after the sound faded. I kept my head down, not daring to meet his eyes. The burning sensation on every inch of my exposed skin told me he was staring at me like a wolf starving for three days, his eyes devouring me with raw desire. I was terrified that meeting his gaze would ignite the fuse of his desires. He directed me to the living room, telling me to sit right there, on top of those wads of tissue. “Spread your legs. I need to see the fit.” In that instant, my gut screamed in protest. For a second, I thought about walking out. But if I pushed aside the dirtiest thoughts, his request was perfectly reasonable. He needed to check the pad’s coverage to ensure the product met his expectations. “Wonder what the material feels like?” I thought he was asking me, and was about to reply, when I suddenly felt something alien brush against the pad! I looked down to see his finger. He was crouched right between my legs, and as if noticing my gaze, he looked up at me, his eyes narrowed behind the frames, revealing two nicotine-stained front teeth. Even more humiliating, his finger began stroking back and forth on the sanitary pad… An electric jolt shot through me. Perhaps it was the sheer terror, but my body’s response was disturbingly strong. My breathing hitched, and my fingers involuntarily dug into the leather sofa. Suddenly, my entire body stiffened! His finger left the pad and brushed against my bare thigh, moving directly towards me! “Mr. Miller, that’s not part of the product experience scope!” I blurted out. His hand froze. He could have continued, of course, but the cost of the order would change dramatically. That was a rule established by the platform when I started. He finally didn’t continue, pulling his hand back with a deflated sigh. “Take the pad off. I need to check its leak-proof effectiveness.” I went back into the bathroom. Knowing the lock was broken, I moved quickly. When I came out, I placed the pad on the coffee table. The inside of the pad was now visibly damp. “Mr. Miller, please sign off on the order on the platform.” My cheeks stiff, I offered a practiced, polite smile. He complied, signed off, gave a five-star rating, and even added a fifty-dollar tip. After the tip, he lifted the pad to his nose and took a long, deep inhale. Then he squinted, tilted his head back, a look of absolute ecstasy on his face! A wave of goosebumps erupted all over my skin. I spun around and hurried towards the door. As I pulled it shut, our eyes met through the narrowing gap. He stared back, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face as he deliberately, slowly, licked the pad.

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“Are you an animal… always in heat?” Inside the girls’ dorm room, Lily’s cheeks were flushed, her lip bitten, as she writhed gently in my arms, releasing a series of hurried, delicate gasps. “You’re already this hot, still pretending, huh?” I smugly pulled out my finger, then slid it into her mouth, playfully teasing her small tongue. My name is Jake, and I’m a freshman in college. Freshman orientation had just ended a few days ago, and after being cooped up for half a month, I couldn’t wait to sneak into my girlfriend’s dorm. With her and her roommates covering for me, I successfully evaded the dorm supervisor, Ms. Jenkins’ inspection, and managed to stay overnight. After lights out, one hand pulled off my boxers while the other moved down Lily’s body. She pressed down on my invading hand, blushing as she whispered, “If you keep that up, I’ll scream.” “It’s fine, they’re used to it by now.” This wasn’t my first time spending the night in the girls’ dorm. I knew exactly what to do. I got up, pressed her head down towards my pelvis, blocking her mouth with my body. “St-stop… Mmmph…” Without her protests, I lifted Lily’s nightgown, and with a swift tug, ripped off her panties. Just then, I saw Chloe, sleeping on the opposite bed, stir. Was she peeking? I subtly glanced over and clearly saw Chloe’s chest heaving, her mouth slightly ajar, cheeks flushed, eyes hazy as she stared at my lower body, her small hand moving gently inside her sleep shorts. Our eyes met, and I was startled at first, then felt a rush of excitement. Chloe seemed so innocent, but it turned out she had a wild side. Watching Lily and me while pleasuring herself. I didn’t care if Lily noticed Chloe peeking. I grabbed Lily’s legs and spread them, then pounced on her like a wild stallion, my movements unyielding. “Ah… I can’t… Please, spare me…” She cried out until her voice turned to a tearful plea, her body limp, a melting puddle on the bed. The next day, as dawn barely broke, I was dragged out of bed by Ms. Jenkins. By the time I’d been reprimanded and left Dean Thompson’s office, lunch was already over. My bladder was about to burst; I hadn’t peed almost all day. I rushed towards the administration building’s restrooms. But when I reached the men’s room door, I found a sign on the floor with six large words: “Under Maintenance, Please Excuse.” I glanced back at the empty hallway. No choice, I had to use the women’s restroom. But I never imagined that after I finished peeing, before I even had my pants up, a petite girl with her head down pushed open a stall door. I stared in disbelief at the girl before me. It was Chloe. She was probably as stunned as I was, staring blankly at my lower body, frozen for a good ten seconds. Tap, tap, tap. Then, hurried footsteps echoed from outside. Without thinking, I grabbed Chloe and pulled her inside the stall. Immediately after, the adjacent stall door opened. The rustle of clothes, followed by the sound of urine hitting the bowl. The sound wasn’t loud, but in the empty restroom, it was piercingly clear. Chloe squirmed uncomfortably in my arms. I looked down at the delicate little thing, inhaling the faint scent of her hair. One hand slid down her lower back, cupping her incredibly elastic little butt. Probably from all her dance training, Chloe’s derrière wasn’t particularly fleshy, but the sensation was exquisite. Especially when her waist subtly twisted, her legs slightly swayed, the mound under my palm seemed to come alive, moving on its own, firming without me squeezing, shifting slightly, an endless delight. “Mmmph…” Chloe seemed to have little experience. A few casual touches from me sent a whimper from her, her breathing noticeably quickened, her body trembling slightly, completely melting in my arms. If I hadn’t been holding her, she would have collapsed to the floor. Could a girl really be this sensitive? Taking advantage of her inability to resist, I pulled hard with both hands, dragging her pants and underwear down to her knees, then pressed her, rear end exposed, against the stall wall. “N-no… I can’t…” Chloe struggled, using her hands to cover her butt, preventing me from getting my way, while whimpering softly, “I… I’m a virgin, I can’t be deflowered in a place like this…” “Then you’ll use your mouth instead.” Chloe quickly covered her small mouth with her hands. Knock! Knock! Just then, a knocking sound came from the adjacent stall, followed by a girl’s voice, “Chloe, what’s wrong?” It was Ashley, another one of Lily’s dormmates. “N-nothing…” “Why does your voice sound weird? Are you sick?” “Mmmph… Saw… saw a roach…” The toilet flushed next door. Ashley walked out of her stall to wash her hands. “Well, hurry up. I’ll wait for you outside.” Once Ashley left the women’s restroom, Chloe struggled out of my arms, trembling, “I… I can let you take my virginity… but not in a place like this…” With that, she forcefully broke free, pulled up her pants, and exited the stall, looking back at me every few steps. I slowly composed myself, and when the coast was clear, I slipped out too. That night, I waited alone outside the girls’ dorm. My only goal was to release some pent-up energy. But before Lily arrived, her three other dormmates showed up. “Hey, didn’t get enough yesterday? Planning to crash in our dorm again tonight?” “I heard you’re, like, eight inches? Even bigger than some guys… is it true?” It was Ashley who spoke. She was about 5’7″, loved wearing crop tops and tight jeans—the kind of figure that could drive a guy wild. Remembering the “powerful” sound of her peeing in the restroom earlier, my heart stirred. “Of course it’s true. Be careful, I might climb into the wrong bed tonight and ‘accidentally’ take you.” Ashley and another girl burst into laughter, giggling uncontrollably. Only Chloe, deep in thought, blushed scarlet. I looked up at Chloe, thinking that if Lily didn’t show, pulling Chloe to a hotel wouldn’t be a bad idea. Ashley waved a hand in front of my face. “You two have something going on, huh? Giving each other ‘the eye’?” At her words, Chloe’s face turned from a summer tomato red to an autumn eggplant purple. There was definitely something there! But then Ashley added, “Let me tell you, don’t do anything to betray your girlfriend while she’s sick.” “She’s sick?” I blurted out. Ashley countered, “You didn’t know?” “No, I didn’t. I’ll climb through your window to see her after lights out.” A sudden worry seized me, and I forgot about Chloe for a moment. Unlike yesterday, I usually snuck into the girls’ dorm first, hid on Lily’s bed, and waited for the room checks to finish before doing anything. But after being caught this morning, the girls’ dorm was bound to be on high alert. Evading a room check now would be nearly impossible. So, to stay overnight again, there was only one way: climbing through the window. After the room checks were done, I scaled the anti-theft grate on the dorm building. “Quick, open the window!” Lily complained as she helped me open it. “Are you insane? This is the third floor!” “For you, I’d climb thirty floors!” A chorus of groans filled the dorm. Ashley and another girl called me cheesy. “How’s your sickness?” Lily was almost in tears from emotion. “It’s just a common cold.” Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door. Turns out a girl on the second floor hadn’t gone to sleep yet, thought someone was breaking in, and alerted the dorm supervisor. The girls panicked. I was about to hide on Lily’s bed when she pulled me down. “You have a record. Hiding on my bed makes it too easy to find you. Go hide on the bed opposite.” So, I climbed onto Chloe’s bed. Ms. Jenkins stopped in front of Lily’s bed, peering inside by the moonlight. I lay on Chloe’s bed, hardly daring to breathe. But next to me was a girl wearing only underwear, practically spooning me. How could I resist? I quietly put my hand on Chloe’s butt, gently kneading. Her body trembled, but she didn’t make a sound. This made me even bolder. My other hand pushed aside her underwear fabric. “Are you sure no one came into your dorm?” Ms. Jenkins asked. “No one!” “Why isn’t the window closed?” “It was stuffy, so we opened it for some air.” The situation below was tense, but my mind was entirely on the girl in my arms. I gently lifted her right leg, pressing myself against her side. “Mmm…” Chloe let out a soft moan. Ms. Jenkins immediately looked over suspiciously. “What was that?” “Ouch!” Lily was quick to react. Seeing the situation, she immediately crouched on the floor, moaning in pain, “Oh, no, my stomach hurts so bad…wuwu~~~” The girls on the two nearby beds jumped down. “She’s sick, quickly, help her to the campus clinic!” “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Let’s go!” Amidst Ms. Jenkins’ urging, the group hurried out of the dorm. The room returned to quiet darkness. My heart blossomed with glee. I flipped over and pinned Chloe face down on the bed. Then I gripped her slender waist and lifted, her little butt curving high, and with one swift pull, her underwear was gone… “Mmm-hmm… I knew it… something was going on between you and Chloe… Ah…” The girl beneath me arched her hips to meet my thrusts, then twisted her head, revealing a face flushed like a sunset, her eyes full of both reproach and shyness. Even her moans became unbearably sweet, incredibly alluring. “You… you actually… really are eight inches…” I froze, dumbfounded. “Ashley? Is that you?” “What? Disappointed… or… scared… Didn’t you say you were going to take me… Ah…”

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“Oh God, this is… just incredible…” In the girls’ dorm room, a naked girl let out a cry that was almost a sob, her slender body arching forward, hands clutching the sheets, her whole frame stiff. I held her tight until she melted into a boneless puddle on the bed. My name’s Josh, and I’m a freshman in college. Yesterday, the pre-semester bootcamp ended, and my girlfriend, Ashley, who’d been pent up for half a month, wasted no time calling me into her dorm. Under the cover of her and her roommates, I managed to sneak past Dorm Supervisor Ms. Jenkins’s inspection and stay the night. “You wild thing, I want you…” As soon as the lights went out, Ashley grabbed my hand, pulling it under her nightgown, and kissed me. I playfully squeezed her butt. “They’re not asleep yet.” “Don’t think I don’t know…” Ashley wriggled her body against me, a beautiful leg wrapping around my waist. “Every time you make me feel like I’m dying… isn’t it on purpose, so they can hear you… doing me?” She whispered the last two words into my ear. “You naughty girl! Are you that eager?” Feeling Ashley’s wet tongue, I grew increasingly aroused. I pulled off her nightgown, hooked one arm around her wrists above her head, and pressed her down beneath me. “Yes… I’m a tease… don’t you like me a little wild?” Ashley rocked her hips, continuing to provoke me. “Am I wild enough tonight? Hmm?” “Wild? You’re absolutely ravenous!”

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My husband wasn’t able to satisfy me anymore. He knew I needed more, so he proposed an unconventional solution: a strong, single man. That tall, powerfully built athlete allowed me to rediscover that mind-blowing pleasure, making me feel alive again… My name is Maya, and I teach dance. Ever since the summer I turned eighteen, when I gave my virginity as a gift to my then-boyfriend, now husband, I truly awakened to the boundless desires within me. Back then, his own passion was just as fiery; he’d keep me pinned beneath him, making love four or five times a night. But after we got married and started our careers, he gradually grew more strained, often rushing things and spending less than ten minutes on foreplay. For the past six months, he hadn’t managed to satisfy me even once. That night, after yet another dull session, he exhaled a ragged breath. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, pulling out a few tissues to wipe me down. “That was a bit quick. Did you… get there?” I let out a soft moan, feigning contentment as I hugged him. “Of course, you were amazing.” I played along, eager to lull him to sleep so I could slip off to the bathroom and take care of myself. My body still felt suspended mid-air, an invisible hand tickling at my core, an agonizing burn between my legs. Once his breathing evened out, I quietly slid out of bed, opened my dresser drawer, and pulled out a skin-toned vibrating massager. I tiptoed into the bathroom. It was late tonight, so I had to be quick. I set the toy to a high setting, and my whole body felt like it was being lifted. I clapped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stifle my cries. Afterward, I carefully put my little helper away. A wave of sadness washed over me. Sigh. Am I destined to spend my life with a massager? I cleaned up, slipped into my lace nightgown, and returned to bed. My husband suddenly rolled over and wrapped his arms around me. “Sweetheart, how about I find a single man for you?” My heart seized up. He knew. “What are you talking about? Go to sleep!” I couldn’t sleep that night. On one hand, I was worried he’d found out about my little toy and feared hurting his pride. On the other, his suggestion stirred a torrent of restless thoughts. I enjoyed watching explicit films occasionally, and scenes of intense intimacy involving multiple partners always sparked fantasies. But what did my husband mean by that? Was he trying to trick me? I decided I couldn’t bring it up myself; it would make it seem like I was eager for it. But my husband wasn’t just talking. Two evenings later, right after dinner, he casually said, “How about you come with me to meet a friend later?” “Sure,” I replied, clearing the table. “The kind of friend I mentioned the other day. A single man.” Caught completely off guard, I froze. “What are you talking about? Are you actually serious about… letting someone else into our marriage?” He stood up, hugged me from behind, and spoke gently but firmly. “Maya, you’re in the prime of your desires right now, your needs are growing, but I’m slowing down. I might never be able to fully satisfy you.” “But we can’t be reckless! I’m not that desperate!” “Don’t worry. I’ve looked into a few athletes. We’ll try one tonight. I’m sure he’ll make you happy.” “You’re serious?” I was dazed, but his tone wasn’t joking. My heart fluttered, but I didn’t want him to see my flushed face, so I grabbed the dishes and escaped to the kitchen. My husband was truly going through with it, and as a woman, I found it hard to question him further. My mind churned, feeling like a puppet as he took my hand and led me out the door. On the way to the hotel, my steps felt ethereal, my mind completely numb. It wasn’t until he checked us into a room and told me to shower first that I snapped back to reality. I grabbed his hand. “Husband, is this really okay?” He patted my hand. “Trust me. Let go of your worries. Just enjoy the pleasure.” Those four words, “enjoy the pleasure,” held a magic that easily shattered my emotional defenses. My husband always knew how to break down my walls; he’d gotten me into bed after only a few dates, and it was still the same now. In the shower, I thoroughly washed myself, just as I had the first time I went to a hotel with him. Doing the same thing again brought a whirlpool of emotions, an unidentifiable mix of feelings. After cleaning, I picked a plain black lingerie set from my change of clothes, worried he might think I’d dressed up too much. When I put on the hotel robe, my husband pulled me into his arms. “Sweetheart, every time you put on that classic, elegant wife look, you absolutely mesmerize me.” I nestled quietly against him, my heart thumping wildly, my mind fixated on the stranger I was about to meet. I looked up, testing the waters. “Husband, that man…” I trailed off shyly, clutching his robe. He patted my behind, whispering, “He’s already in the elevator.” The moment the words left his lips, the doorbell rang. I almost leaped up, frantically asking my husband, “Where should I stand?” I knew it was a stupid question, but at that moment, I truly didn’t know what to do. My husband didn’t answer but kissed me. “Darling, I’ll always love you!” That sentence eased half my tension, but the other half still made my heart feel like it would burst from my throat. Seeing my uneasy expression, he kissed me again, then went to open the door. A powerfully built young man stood at the entrance, even taller than my six-foot-tall husband. He was a towering figure, completely blocking out the hallway light. “Let me introduce you. This is Liam. And this is my wife, Maya.” “Ma’am, you’re beautiful,” Liam said, offering me a gift he’d brought. His eyes gleamed with excitement and a raw hunger; clearly, my appearance and figure had pleased him greatly. “You… hello,” I managed, nodding, staring at the man who would soon enter my body. Blood rushed to my face, hot and burning. I struggled to suppress my nervousness. My husband, however, calmly accepted the gift. “Thoughtful of you. Why don’t you go ahead and shower?” “Alright, sir.” My husband took my hand and had me sit beside him. One hand stroked my hair, while the other slipped under my robe, caressing my full breasts. He leaned closer, speaking into my ear. “Relax, sweetheart. Let your body surrender to desire. I just want you to be happy.” His touch left me in a delicious haze, my mind flashing with exciting images. My husband was about to say more when the bathroom door opened. Liam emerged, wrapped only in a towel, revealing his sculpted muscles. His gaze swept over me, lingering particularly on my breasts, which my husband was still caressing, and my thighs. I didn’t actually feel any aversion to Liam’s gaze. From the moment he entered the room, I knew my husband had chosen a man to my liking: tall, strong, and powerful. “You two get acquainted. I’ll go take a shower too.” My husband left the room to me and Liam, stepping into the bathroom. Watching his back, I instinctively clutched my chest. Anticipating what was about to happen, I felt a warm, dark current surge through my body. “Ma’am, may I sit next to you?” “Mm-hmm.” I replied, my voice barely a whisper, shifting slightly to make room. Liam slowly moved closer, so close I could feel his hot breath on my cheek, sending shivers through me. “Ma’am, you smell wonderful. May I touch you?” he asked softly. “Mm-hmm.” This time, my voice was a little louder. Perhaps my compliance emboldened Liam. He skipped the tentative steps, directly reaching out to touch my breast. He was far more skilled at teasing a woman than he looked. He started by stroking over the robe, and seeing no resistance, his hand slowly slipped inside. The stranger’s hand felt warm and heavy. The moment it brushed my breast, my legs instinctively pressed together. There was even a hint of pleasure. I involuntarily closed my eyes, letting out a satisfied sigh. Seeing my reaction, Liam immediately leaned in to kiss me, his tongue deftly exploring my mouth. At first, I felt a touch of shyness, but in the face of my surging desires, I quickly succumbed, actively engaging in the passionate kiss. Our tongues tangled together, fiercely and wildly. He was fervent from start to finish, and I gradually caught fire, burning uncontrollably. My body, initially tense with nervousness, slowly relaxed. I had to brace myself with my hands on the bed to maintain balance. My reaction clearly encouraged him. His movements grew bolder. One hand kneaded my thigh, gently untied my robe’s belt, and slowly moved upward towards my inner thigh. The other hand unhooked my bra, gently laying me back on the bed, his head descending to bury itself in my chest. “Mmm…” I shuddered, instinctively arching my chest. In that instant, I felt my soul soar. Even without intimate contact, my body held almost no secrets from him. And the switch for my desires was on the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t satisfied, though. His warm, moist tongue slid down along my full curves, his fingers hooking the sides of my panties, gently pulling them down. “Give it to me…” My mind reeled. I was panting heavily, drenched in sweat, throwing my head back, and actively pulling my legs wide apart… Just then, I saw my husband emerge from the bathroom, looking at me with a complex expression. Suddenly, my vision went black. My last conscious thought was my husband’s frantic footsteps and his panicked voice.

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My face flushed, I leaned heavily against the counter at the school’s corner store, my legs trembling. From beneath the till, my math teacher, Mr. Evans, was doing unspeakable things that made my head swim, all while oblivious customers browsed the aisles. Once the last shopper left, Mr. Evans finally emerged from behind the counter, leaning in close, his hot breath caressing my ear. “Like my technique, do we?” he whispered. 1 My name is Scarlett. I’m a dance major, known as the ‘Campus Belle’ at Rosewood Arts Academy. This summer, I took on a job working at my parents’ corner store near the high school, making a hundred bucks a day. It wasn’t much, but school was out, so it was pretty chill. Most of the time, I just scrolled on my phone. The Rosewood summer, though, was relentlessly hot and humid. And my parents, trying to save a buck, refused to install air conditioning. Sometimes, when the heat became unbearable, I’d slip behind the cash register, sneak out my personal pleasure device, and find a moment of private comfort to soothe my simmering body. Today was particularly sweltering, the kind of mid-summer day that makes you feel like you’re swimming through the air. I’d already secretly shed my bra, but sweat still dripped from every pore, soaking my white tank top and shorts until they clung to me, translucent as wet tissue paper. My soaked tank top clung to my frame, making every curve – especially my fuller chest – unmistakably clear. After a long stretch of no customers, and seeing not a soul outside the store, I couldn’t resist. I grabbed my device, retreated behind the counter, and, just like any other day, closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in a haze of private comfort. But just as I was blissfully lost in my own little world, the door chimed. Mr. Evans, my math teacher from junior year, walked in. “Hey, little boss! Got any glue?” I froze, a jolt of shock coursing through me. My body went limp, trembling, and the device slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor. By the time I snapped back to reality and dared to look up, I found Mr. Evans staring at me, a look of stunned disbelief mingled with something disturbingly like admiration in his eyes. My face instantly burned scarlet, a wave of mortification washing over me. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. God, this was beyond embarrassing! But embarrassing or not, I had a customer. I frantically pulled myself together, forcing my voice to stay steady as I stood up. “Mr. Evans, hi… Yes… yes, we do. It’s usually… under the counter.” My cheeks were on fire, and I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, terrified to meet his eyes. Even though I’d hastily adjusted my clothes, the damp fabric clung to me, outlining every curve as if I were barely dressed, especially without a bra. Mr. Evans, if he wanted, could probably see everything. Sure enough, his breathing grew heavier. I could feel his scorching gaze sweep over me, possessive and knowing. My lip trembled. Was he… was he interested? Was he imagining pressing me down right here on the counter? A sigh of relief escaped me when he didn’t say anything, just crouched down and began rummaging under the counter for the glue. I stole a glance at his back, a mix of chagrin and a strange flicker of excitement stirring within me. Actually, with the summer heat and lack of business, my parents had suggested closing the store for a break. But I insisted on staying. I had a secret: I’d had a crush on Mr. Evans for three years. My persistence in keeping the store open was all about creating opportunities to be near him. I loved his tall frame, his refined, handsome face, and the intense focus in his eyes when he stood at the chalkboard, classic wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, lecturing. His long, slender fingers, holding a piece of chalk, seemed to stir something in my heart with every stroke. But through three years of high school, I was just a student in the next classroom over. On top of that, my parents were incredibly strict, forbidding any teenage romance, let alone something as scandalous as a teacher-student affair. While my friends were exploring intimacy at friends’ houses, whispering tales of secret hookups and amazing experiences, I had to suppress my inner turmoil, my restlessness, and my envy. My feelings for Mr. Evans remained buried deep. That’s why I’d developed this bad habit of self-soothing—a way to vent my frustrations and my silent longing for Mr. Evans. But I never imagined my first real interaction with him would be him catching me in the act. Thinking about it, I felt like crying. Oh God, why me? How could I be so unlucky? Mr. Evans might not have said anything, but he must surely think I’m a loose, reckless girl, right? Still, judging by his reaction just now, he seemed… to like it? 2 “Little boss, are you sure the glue is here?” After a moment, Mr. Evans hadn’t found any glue. He stood up, looking puzzled, and asked me again. I suddenly remembered: we’d sold out of glue a few days ago. I was about to explain when his gaze paused. He seemed to spot something on the floor, then bent down and picked up a pink, oval-shaped object. There was wet residue on it. Mr. Evans brought a finger to his nose, a curious expression on his face. “What kind of glue is this?” he mused. “Smells… unusual. But it’s certainly sticky.” I peered at the pink object in his hand, and a wave of fresh panic crashed over me. It was my personal pleasure device, the one I’d fumbled and dropped! I instantly realized what the “liquid” was. My face turned crimson, and I quickly averted my eyes, utterly speechless. This was beyond mortifying. To my surprise, seeing my reaction, Mr. Evans paused. Then, as if understanding dawned on him, he didn’t show an ounce of disgust. In fact, he gave a wry, almost fond smile, and spoke gently to reassure me. “Ah, I see… that kind of stickiness!” he said. “Little boss, there’s nothing to be ashamed of! It’s perfectly natural. To be honest, sometimes when I’m alone in my apartment, I find myself needing to… unwind. It’s a normal human thing.” He paused again, then looked at me expectantly. “By the way, what’s your name? What should I call you?” My mind went blank. I couldn’t believe Mr. Evans, the cool and refined teacher, was openly sharing such a personal secret to comfort me. He did that too? And he was asking for my name? Was he trying to get closer to me? My heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves. God knew how many lonely nights I’d whispered his name to myself as I drifted off to sleep. How long had I waited for this moment? I had to seize this chance! A sudden idea sparked in my mind. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and met his gentle gaze. “Hi, Mr. Evans,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m Scarlett. But you can call me Scar.” I quickly added, “Mr. Evans, we sold out of glue two days ago. How about this: let’s exchange numbers, and when the new stock arrives tomorrow, I can personally bring it to your place?” A girl offering to come to a guy’s house? Even an idiot would get that hint. I waited, heart hammering, for his answer, secretly vowing that if he agreed, I would pull out all the stops. Even if I had to physically make a move, I’d make him mine. But what happened next was beyond anything I could have imagined. Mr. Evans apparently couldn’t wait until tomorrow for the glue. He seemed quite urgent. “Scar,” he said, his voice laced with concern, “I can’t wait until tomorrow. I have some urgent documents that need to be glued right away.” He frowned. “And I don’t know where else to find any at this hour.” He then looked down at his finger, still bearing the wet residue from my device, and then back at me. A strange look crossed his face, as if he’d just made a decision. He glanced quickly outside the empty store, then turned back to me, an embarrassed but persistent plea in his eyes. “Scarlett… could you… maybe help me find something similar to that? Something… sticky, to help with this?” … I was stunned. I never expected Mr. Evans to make such an outlandish request. My face flushed, my ears burning, as I instantly understood his meaning. If anyone else had suggested such a thing, I would have called the police on the spot. But this was Mr. Evans, the man I’d secretly adored for years. My heart didn’t hold a single ounce of reluctance; in fact, I had only one thought: I had to help him. Under Mr. Evans’ expectant gaze, my body trembled. I took a deep breath and nodded firmly. His eyes lit up with delight, and he quickly extended his hand, holding out my pink device. Just then, my phone suddenly rang.

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“Ah… I can’t take it anymore… you guys are going to kill me with pleasure…” “Godmother, hips higher please…” Late at night, I lay sprawled on the bed, my body limp, my hips raised high, manipulated into various positions by two strong men. It had been so long since I’d tasted such pleasure, and my primal desires, long buried deep within me, were finally unleashed. Until one of the men bit my ear, “Godmother, do you like the front or the back?” “Both… I like both…” I was a widow. Ever since my husband passed away, I had worked tirelessly to raise my son, hoping he would make something of himself. But one ordinary night, things began to spiral into an abyss beyond my control. That night, I was woken by the urge to pee, groggily getting ready to head to the bathroom. I noticed my son’s room was slightly ajar, and faint sounds of heavy breathing drifted out. It was so late, and Josh was still awake? I tiptoed closer, only to see him lying on his bed, indulging himself, with a black lace thong covering his face. I bit my lip. Though I’d had a premonition, seeing this scene still made my face flush crimson. What made my breathing quicken even more was the phone screen in Josh’s other hand. At first, I thought it was just a video to help him get in the mood, but when I heard vaguely familiar sounds through the speaker, I realized it was a video of him and a woman. And the woman pinned beneath him, clutching a pillow, frantically pushing her hips to meet his rhythm, was none other than Josh’s godmother, Denise. Denise was my college friend, my best friend. Years ago, we got pregnant almost simultaneously, agreeing that if we had a boy and a girl, we’d become in-laws. If we had two boys or two girls, they’d become godchildren to each other. But I never in my wildest dreams imagined her taking the role of “godmother” to bed! I couldn’t bring myself to watch any longer. Without even using the bathroom, I rushed back to my bedroom, sitting on the bed, lost in thought. Josh was at the peak of his vitality; every time I washed his underwear, I almost always found signs of nocturnal emissions. It was normal for him to have those urges. But why would he be involved with Denise? My thoughts drifted to my own godson, Tyler. Every time he saw me, he’d hug me, hold me, and lean into me. He’d say he was giving me a massage, but his hands would inevitably linger and roam. I used to feel flattered, thinking my charm hadn’t faded. Now, thinking back, he definitely had something going on in his mind about me. Especially every time he massaged me, he’d ask, “Godmother, does that feel good?” It was utterly humiliating. Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. “Mom, are you asleep?” I glanced down at my lace nightgown; only two thin straps supported my full, pale curves, and other than the sheer skirt, there was no other cover. I pulled the blanket over my legs before telling him to come in. Josh, dressed only in a pair of boxers, pushed open the door, his face looking strange. I hugged my shoulders, covering the parts my nightgown didn’t conceal. “What’s wrong, Josh?” “I want Godmother and Tyler to come over tomorrow.” I bit my lower lip, surprised that he came to me in the middle of the night for this. But I wasn’t ready to face Denise yet. Especially with my son being so full of youthful energy, what if they couldn’t control themselves and did something? Should I avoid being there? Don’t let Denise’s usual delicate and frail demeanor fool you; she possessed a naturally captivating charm, a waist like a serpent, breasts full and round, and a pert, peachy behind. She was at an age of peak vitality, capable of drawing the very essence out of even the strongest man. If it happened too often, would it affect Josh’s health? But seeing the hopeful expression on his face, I agreed. The next evening, I tidied up the house, welcoming Denise and Tyler into our home. Tyler was even taller than Josh, easily over six feet three, and with his love for fitness and basketball, his physique was astonishingly muscular. As soon as he entered, he scooped me up in a bear hug, burying his face in my chest without a care in the world. “Godmother, I missed you so much!” “Godmother, your chest is so soft, not only much bigger than my mom’s, but it smells amazing too.” “Go on, go on, what are you doing…” My face flushed crimson with embarrassment. “You’re a grown man, still clinging to your old ways?” “It’s not like I haven’t before, Godmother, let me just have a taste again.” With that, Tyler leaned into my chest, and my bra was getting undone. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t push him away. It wasn’t until he lingered there, taking a long, deep breath as if savoring something, that he finally put me down. “Godmother, you look truly beautiful today.” Perhaps it was the stirring of a dormant passion, ignited by what I’d learned about Josh and Denise, but I found myself truly enjoying Tyler’s awestruck gaze today. It certainly made choosing this figure-hugging, low-cut short dress worth it. And Denise seemed to have dressed up too. Though a widow, she wore a striking red dress, her captivating, upturned eyes hinting at a subtle allure, exuding a mix of innocence and brazen charm. Her whole being radiated the sensual vibe of a sophisticated woman. No need to ask, my son must have been responsible for this! I shot Josh a look of annoyance. That brat! He might be full of energy, but he shouldn’t be so reckless! Denise, unaware that I’d discovered their secret, sat down openly with Josh. They even shared drinks, their arms intertwined. The gooey-sweet look in their eyes, so thick it could be pulled into threads, clearly showed the shyness of a new bride. And Josh’s hand was constantly under the table; no doubt, he was stroking Denise’s thigh. Before long, Denise’s cheeks were flushed, and she was sighing softly, leaning against Josh’s lap. Though I couldn’t see what they were doing, the soft, squelching sounds coming from Denise’s mouth. They were so incredibly embarrassing, yet so strangely arousing. That little minx, she couldn’t be… pleasuring Josh with her mouth, could she? My whole body was burning hot, and I unconsciously kept pouring red wine down my throat. I started to feel a little anxious. If Tyler found out, that would be the end of it. Thankfully, Tyler’s attention remained entirely on me; he hadn’t even glanced their way. “Godmother, I’ve learned some new pressure points. Let me give you a massage!” I didn’t dare stay in the living room, so I took his hand and led him to the master bedroom. I lay face down on the bed. To my surprise, when Tyler placed his hands on my backside, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Perhaps it was too much wine, or perhaps it was because we had played so many risky games before that I had already adapted to something that was bound to happen eventually. So, I didn’t refuse. Instead, I subtly lifted my hips, making it easier for him to undress me further. “Godmother, your backside is so beautiful.” My face was pressed into the pillow, my disheveled hair fanned out, hiding my cheeks and, with them, my shame. But as Tyler’s hands grew bolder, my legs began to tremble, and a thrill of breaking taboos, a mix of naughtiness and excitement, coursed through me. My glutes involuntarily clenched, then relaxed, then clenched again. My unprecedented compliance emboldened Tyler. As he undid my bra, he continued, “And your skin is so fair, like a creamy cake.” Then, his breath suddenly warmed my lower back, and he gave my backside a light bite. A warm, wet sensation traced its way from the base of my spine, following the curve of my waist and hips, up to my neck, and then behind my ear. “Oh…” I jolted. It tickled. So much. It was a tickle that went straight to my core, like an electric current, making me involuntarily arch my upper body, trembling uncontrollably. My period was still a week away, and this was when my desires were most intense. I unconsciously curled my toes, biting my lower lip tightly, afraid to open my mouth, straining every muscle in my body to fight the deep, bone-aching pleasure, terrified that I would let out an undignified moan. Finally, when I recovered and lay prone on the massage table again, I gasped heavily, almost pleading. “Godmother has always cared for you so much; is this how you treat her?” “Precisely because Godmother cares for me, I can’t bear to see you alone.” Tyler leaned in, biting my ear, “I will… make you feel on top of the world…” With that, he swiftly pulled down my underwear…

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From my neighbor’s balcony, I watched as a burly guy, probably in his early thirties, jogged on his treadmill. His wife had run off with some rich old man six months ago. Since then, he seemed to hold a grudge against every woman he met. His eyes were always narrowed, his jaw clenched, as if he wanted to devour us whole. Every attractive woman in our apartment complex was scared of him. But not me. I’m a freshman dance student, fresh out of high school. I’m light on my feet, flexible, and naturally graceful. And I’ve been a head-turner my whole life. From elementary school to middle school, I was always the most popular girl, the “it” girl. Now in college, I’m seen as this unattainable goddess. But what no one knows is that my “unattainable” image is just a facade. Outside of school, privately, I have a side that no one could ever guess. My neighbor, Dave, stands over six feet tall, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, with a healthy, tanned complexion. Every morning, he’s out on his balcony, working out on his treadmill. He only ever wears a pair of short athletic shorts. And almost every morning, I’m out on my balcony too, ostensibly practicing my dance moves. But really, it’s just an excuse to showcase my eighteen-year-old freshman self – my youth, my sensuality, my supple grace – for him. I wonder if he knew my parents had gone away on vacation, leaving me home alone. Because today, he was up much earlier than usual. The first thing he did, as always, was hit the treadmill on his balcony. Maybe it was because he didn’t see me right away, but he started making intentional noises, even faking a few coughs. Clearly, he was trying to get my attention, to let me know he was exercising and that I should join him on the balcony for my “practice.” I chuckled to myself, finding it amusing. Then, I flipped out of bed, eager to head out to the balcony. With my parents away, I felt even bolder. I chose something particularly daring and form-fitting. My tall, slender figure was accentuated, curves in all the right places. My long neck, my delicate arms, and a pair of legs as smooth as ivory were all on full display. Once on the balcony, I played coy. Even though I was doing this all for him, I deliberately turned my back. Yet, from the corner of my eye, I snuck glances at him. I was both surprised and thrilled to see that today, he too had become unexpectedly bolder. He wasn’t wearing his usual shorts. He was wearing nothing but a pair of extremely tight, elastic boxer briefs! 2 A thrill shot through me. Continuing my routine, I kept an eye on him from the corner of my vision, while subtly twisting my nimble, graceful body. With my back still to him, I performed a pole dance routine that was even more sensual and provocative than usual. My peripheral vision caught his eyes, wide and fixed on my swaying back, especially my full, curving hips. He stared with a ferocity that seemed to want to devour me whole, more intensely than ever before. He was already so tall, powerfully built, with a healthy, dark tan. Now, with that wild glint in his eyes, I couldn’t help but think of the overwhelmingly potent figures I’d seen in adult movies. I felt like I’d struck gold. I also recalled a rumor I’d once heard: his wife had left him for that rich old man because she couldn’t stand his endless, nightly torment. I truly couldn’t understand why she would feel that was torment. Wasn’t that what every woman secretly craved? If only I were his woman, how wonderful that would be! As this thought raced through my mind, I pictured myself forcefully pinned beneath him, a thrilling, heart-pounding image. I couldn’t help but launch into another pole dance. My movements were even more fluid, more alluring. His eyes widened further, that predatory glint, the desire to consume me, burning even hotter. Yet, I felt it wasn’t enough. As long as he could still control himself, I wouldn’t be satisfied. I needed to completely ignite the fire in his heart and body. I wanted him to burn with me, intensely and without restraint, until he couldn’t hold back anymore. By now, after two pole dance routines, I was slightly breathless, my body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. I seized the opportunity to make an even bolder move. It was the first time I had ever done something so daring in front of him on the balcony. Right there, under his ravenous gaze that promised to devour me, I began to change my clothes. Of course, because it was the first time, I still didn’t dare turn fully towards him. I kept my back to him, only letting him see my fair, supple skin. Though I hadn’t actually been with a man yet, my extensive experience with adult films had taught me more about men than most women my age. I knew that to truly entice a man, you couldn’t reveal everything at once. Nor could you let him have everything immediately. The more he only saw my alluring back, the more he would long to see my front. And the more I deliberately withheld it, the more he would crave, fantasize, and lose control, finally doing the wild thing I’d been longing for. I deliberately unfastened my top’s back clasp slowly, piece by piece, then slowly slipped off my shirt. Next, I bent over, slowly peeling off my ultra-short skirt… 3 Instead of quickly putting on the clean clothes I’d prepared, I picked up my towel and slowly, deliberately, began to wipe the beads of sweat from my body. From front to back… then from top to bottom… Throughout this entire process, I remained with my back to him. The whole thing lasted at least ten minutes before I had slowly and completely wiped myself dry. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his gaze behind me. It wasn’t just burning with a devouring intensity greater than ever before; it was truly ablaze with fire. I knew I had completely ignited the flame in his body and heart. But at that moment, I allowed myself a knowing smile. Then, I quickly dressed. After that, with a graceful turn, I left the balcony, entered the living room, and vanished from his sight, leaving him with nothing. My goal was to light that raging fire within him, but not be responsible for putting it out. I wanted him to suffer even more, to be tortured by desire. Then, at just the right moment, I would give him an opening. Only then, after being suppressed for so long, would he explode with uncontrolled urgency, like a rampaging beast. And only then could I truly become the leading lady of my own adult movie, experiencing the primal impact I craved. For the rest of the day, I secretly watched his movements. He spent the entire day restless and agitated, constantly pacing to his balcony and peering towards ours. From his craving eyes, I knew how desperately he wished I would appear on the balcony again. But I simply hid in my apartment, secretly amused. The more he acted this way, the more I wanted to tease him, leaving him wanting, but unsatisfied. As dusk approached, he took a phone call on his balcony. It sounded like a few buddies were inviting him out for dinner and drinks. Unable to decline their insistent invitations, he agreed. After hanging up, he didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he stared at our balcony a few more times, lingering with an air of strong reluctance and regret, before finally turning and going back into his room. A little while later, I heard him leave his apartment, his footsteps heading towards the elevator, then descending. He and his friends had a long dinner. By the time I heard him return, several hours had passed. I was watching an adult movie, waiting for him. As I listened to him open and close his apartment door, I glanced at my phone. It was nearly midnight. The first thing he did upon returning was rush out onto his balcony and peer towards ours again. In the dim night light, I saw the fierce flame burning even brighter in his eyes. A gust of night wind carried the strong scent of alcohol. Clearly, he’d had quite a bit to drink tonight. A secret delight fluttered in my heart. He was already tall, powerful, built like a primal force. Now, having drunk so much, wouldn’t he be even more uncontrollable, more overwhelmingly potent? But he didn’t see me. I was hiding in the shadows. He had no idea of my secret glee. He stayed on the balcony, looking around for a while, and when he didn’t see me, he turned away, disappointed and deflated, and went back into his room. I waited a little longer, estimating the time was right. Then, I grabbed my pink bath towel, dressed in something even sexier than what I’d worn during the day, and left my apartment. I walked to his door and rang his doorbell. The doorbell chimed for a while before I heard his heavy footsteps. When he reached the door, he only glanced through the peephole, and the next second, he urgently flung the door open. Just like that morning on the treadmill, he was completely bare-chested, wearing nothing but those extremely tight, elastic boxer briefs. His eyes held surprise, inquiry, and a burning, consuming fire. “You, do you need something?” His throat bobbed, his voice trembling. “Were you about to sleep? Did I disturb you?” I gave him a alluring smile. “No, no disturbance. It’s still early for sleep, I have trouble sleeping and usually stay up late on my phone. I was just about to take a shower, that’s why I’m dressed like this.” “Oh, good. I was also about to shower, but my water heater suddenly stopped working. I was wondering if I could borrow your bathroom? Would you mind?” “Mind? Of course not! Please, come in!” I smiled even more seductively, swaying my hips with a sensual, graceful movement, and stepped inside… 4 I deliberately brushed past him. His tall, powerfully built frame, over six feet, was like a tower. I’m only five feet five, so you can imagine how small I felt next to him, how stiflingly immense his presence was. But I liked that oppressive feeling. Even more, I loved the strong scent of alcohol and the palpable wave of male hormones radiating from him. As I brushed past, I intentionally pressed my soft, yielding body against his large, animalistic physique. In that instant, I felt the searing heat of his tanned skin. I was certain he felt the smooth, delicate texture of my skin, like snow. I distinctly felt his powerful body tremble uncontrollably. My own heart abruptly began to pound faster. But it was only a few fleeting seconds before I was past him, heading towards the bathroom. He stood there stunned for several seconds before snapping back to reality. Then, with a resounding thud, he quickly and securely closed the living room door, locking it. From the corner of my eye, I saw him staring at my graceful, sensual form as I headed towards the bathroom. His gaze was even more intensely predatory than in the daytime, promising to devour me. A hint of triumph and cunning, like a predator eyeing its prey, flickered in his burning eyes. But I wasn’t scared in the slightest. Instead, I gave a knowing smile with my back to him. The true hunters often appear as prey. Soon, we’d see who was truly whose prey! His apartment layout was identical to mine. But his decor was different. Especially his bathroom door – it was made of frosted glass, allowing vague shadows to be seen through it. This suited my plans perfectly. I entered the bathroom, closed the door, but not only did I not lock it, I deliberately left a tiny crack open. It was a clear invitation, implying he could push the door open and enter whenever he was bold enough. Next, I slowly undressed, admiring my perfect figure in the mirror for a while. Only then did I turn on the shower and step under the curtain of water. As I washed, I deliberately hummed a suggestive, teasing tune. Since I entered the bathroom, I hadn’t heard him move. I was sure he was standing not far from the bathroom door, looking in my direction. I was also certain that my entire showering process, and the faint, tall, shapely shadow of my perfect figure, were all being watched by him, his eyes wide, his desire to consume me even more intense. Too bad he hadn’t turned on the lights. The outer room was only lit by the dim light filtering in from outside the window. The bathroom light, however, was much brighter. This allowed him to stand in the relative darkness outside, brazenly peeking at my shadow projected onto the bathroom door, while I, from inside, couldn’t see him at all. But not seeing him didn’t matter. I could imagine. I couldn’t help but picture his naked body, save for those shorts, out there becoming even more monstrous, more primal than any beast. I smugly anticipated that if things continued this way, it wouldn’t be long before the fire inside him would rage even hotter, and he would lose all control, pushing open the bathroom door and rushing in… 5 I’d seen countless adult films. Many of them featured scenes in bathrooms. I’d always longed for a bathroom encounter. We could shower together. I could scrub his entire body, and he could scrub mine. And of course, when the internal fire burned beyond control, we could burn together like kindling, consumed by the flames. However, to my surprise, after almost half an hour, what I had confidently expected still hadn’t happened. Not only did he not push open the bathroom door and rush in, he didn’t even say a single provocative word to me from outside. It was as if he wasn’t even in the room outside, as if he had left like a perfect gentleman. But I clearly hadn’t heard him leave. Puzzled, I turned off the shower and listened intently. I heard heavy, ragged breathing coming from the room outside. So, he hadn’t left after all. He must have been breathing heavily because my shadow on the bathroom door was teasing him. It seemed that despite his tall, powerful build, like a beast, he only had the desire of a beast, but none of its courage. He only dared to hide in the dark outside, peeking at my shadow on the bathroom door and fantasizing, but lacked the courage to rush in. How disappointing! After his wife ran off, he’d apparently become so hostile towards women that every woman in the complex was terrified of him. Especially me – he’d always eyed me as if he wanted to devour me whole. But when I actually gave him the chance, he didn’t even have the guts to burst into the bathroom! It seemed my teasing wasn’t enough. He’d even had so much to drink tonight. If I couldn’t provoke him into rushing into the bathroom even when he was drunk, I was truly a failure! But I wasn’t disheartened. In fact, I firmly believed that if I kept trying, tonight, I, the true hunter appearing as prey, would definitely turn him into my real prey. So, I didn’t rush to open the door and leave. Instead, I wiped the misty mirror, then admired my perfect, ivory-skinned body, still glistening with water droplets, in the reflection. And I did this while leaning over the sink, admiring myself in the mirror. I was sure the shadow of me on the bathroom door would show my waist perfectly arched, my full hips perfectly tilted high. I hummed a song, not the teasing tune from before, but a luridly suggestive song that had been popular on social media recently, one that described body parts in a lewd and provocative way. I simply refused to believe that in this moment, in this setting, he could resist the temptation of such a song sung by a fresh, tender eighteen-year-old college girl. 6 Yet, I still didn’t get him to rush into the bathroom. I only heard his ragged breathing outside growing faster and heavier. I suspected he was uncontrollably doing what I’d seen many times in adult movies, focused on my shadow on the bathroom door. It seemed I had overestimated him after all. He might be tall and powerfully built, with the physique of those primal figures from adult movies, but he lacked their animalistic ferocity and daring! He only dared to satisfy himself by staring at my shadow on the bathroom door, not by actually rushing into the bathroom to do the crime I’d secretly craved. It was clear I needed to resort to more extreme measures. So, I stopped admiring myself in the mirror and stopped humming the suggestive song. I didn’t even bother drying my hair or body. Still soaking wet, I wrapped myself in my towel and pushed open the bathroom door, stepping out. His increasingly rapid and heavy breathing suddenly ceased. So, he really was doing that to my shadow on the bathroom door. He must have been startled by my sudden appearance and quickly stopped, right? I couldn’t help but smile, amused and alluring, as I looked his way. In the dim light, I saw him, indeed, lying on the sofa, unmoving. His large hands were placed in a very particular position, quite suggestive, sparking all sorts of impure thoughts. I was even more certain now that my earlier suspicions were correct. He had indeed been doing what I’d guessed, fixated on my shadow on the bathroom door. And he had indeed been startled by my sudden emergence, freezing in place. His face was somewhat flushed. Was it from guilt, from shame and embarrassment? I never would have thought that a man who instilled fear in all the women in the complex, a man who constantly watched me with murderous intent, wanting to devour me whole, could ever feel guilty, or blush from shame and embarrassment. But his flush lasted only a few seconds. His eyes, wide and fixed on me, once again blazed with that familiar devouring intensity he usually held when he watched me. His throat still bobbed. I heard a loud gulp as he swallowed. In that moment, he was a starved wolf, and I, a lamb waiting to be slaughtered. Compared to his over six-foot, powerfully built frame, I, a five-foot-five freshman girl, was so delicate. I was only wrapped in a towel, which was so short it barely covered anything. And the parts that were exposed, glistening in the dim light, seemed even more luminous, like pure snow. Especially the shimmering water droplets rolling down my neck, tracing paths along the expanse of my pale chest, slipping into the valley between my breasts, and disappearing beneath the towel. In this moment, this scene, how could he, a man radiating strong alcohol and primal hormonal scents, like a beast of pure masculine power, possibly resist? How could he not look at me with even more ravenous eyes, salivating and gulping? “Thank you, I’m done. You can go wash up now. Goodnight…” I said, choosing this very moment to play my game of enticing yet retreating. With that, I turned and headed towards the living room door. But after only a few steps, I deliberately “slipped,” tumbling to the floor. My towel instantly slid off my naked body. I lay on the floor, head and waist buried low, but my full hips were perfectly angled towards him on the sofa, arched high.

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“Godmother, open wide.” The words barely registered. Tonight, I lay naked, clutching a pillow, my hips arched high, head thrown back in a submissive arch, sandwiched between two strong men. “Mmmph… I can’t… it’s too much… too much…” I was a widow. Since my husband passed, I’d poured my heart and soul into raising my son, Leo, hoping he’d make something of himself. But one ordinary night, things began to slide into a chasm beyond my control. That evening, I was woken by a full bladder and groggily made my way toward the bathroom. Yet, as I passed Leo’s room, I noticed his door was ajar, and faint, muffled sounds of gasping drifted out. So late, and Leo’s still awake? I crept closer, then froze. Through the crack, I saw him on his bed, pleasuring himself. A black lace thong was draped over his face. I bit down on my lip. Although I’d had my suspicions, seeing it laid bare sent a scorching flush through me. What made my breathing hitch even more was the screen of Leo’s phone, clutched in his other hand. At first, I assumed it was just one of his private videos. But when the faint, disturbingly familiar sounds from the speaker reached me, I realized it was a video of him in bed with a woman. And the woman pinned beneath him, clutching a pillow, thrusting her hips wildly to meet his rhythm, was none other than Leo’s godmother, Denise. Denise was my college friend, my closest confidante. Years ago, we’d both been pregnant around the same time and joked that if we had a boy and a girl, we’d tie our families together. If we had two boys or two girls, they’d become godchildren to the other. But I never in my wildest dreams imagined her taking her ‘godmother’ duties right to his bed! I couldn’t bear to watch another second. I hurried back to my room without even making it to the bathroom, my mind racing as I sat on my bed. My son was at the peak of his vitality; every time I washed his underwear, I found evidence of nocturnal emissions. It was natural for him to have needs. But why, why with Denise? My thoughts involuntarily drifted to my own godson, Alex. Every time he saw me, he’d hug me tight, kissing my cheek. He’d say he was giving me a massage, but his hands would invariably stray, roaming over me. I used to feel a little smug, thinking I still had my charm. Now, thinking back, he must have been interested in me all along. Especially when he’d ask during our ‘massages,’ “Godmother, did that feel good?” It was utterly mortifying. Just then, a soft knock came at my door. “Mom, are you asleep?” I glanced down at my lace nightgown. Two thin straps barely supported my pale, soft breasts, and the sheer skirt offered little coverage. I pulled a throw over my legs before telling him to come in. Leo, clad only in boxers, pushed the door open, his expression odd. I instinctively crossed my arms, shielding the parts my nightgown didn’t quite cover. “What is it, Leo?” “Tomorrow, I want Godmother and Alex to come visit.” I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t expected him to approach me about this in the middle of the night. I wasn’t ready to face Denise. Especially with my son so full of vigor – if they got carried away, should I just leave them to it? Denise usually seemed delicate and fragile, but she had a naturally alluring face, a waist like a serpent’s, breasts full and rounded, and buttocks firm and lush like peaches – the kind of figure that made men go wild. She was at an age of intense vitality, capable of draining even the strongest man dry. Wouldn’t such frequent activity affect Leo’s energy? But looking at his hopeful expression, I relented. The next evening, I tidied the house, welcoming Denise and Alex through the door. Alex was taller than Leo, well over six feet, and with his love for fitness and basketball, his physique was astonishingly well-built. As soon as he stepped inside, he swept me into a hug, unabashedly burying his face in my chest, rubbing against me. “Godmother, I missed you so much!” “Godmother, your breasts are so soft, so much bigger than my mom’s, and they smell incredible.” “Oh, stop it, you! What are you doing?” I flushed crimson. “You’re a grown man, still wanting milk?” “It’s not like I haven’t had them before, Godmother. Let me taste them again.” With that, Alex directly pulled down my neckline and began kissing and sucking at my chest, almost tearing my bra in the process. I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. Not until he’d sucked greedily a few times, satisfying his craving, did he finally let me go. “Godmother, you look truly beautiful today.” Perhaps it was the fire sparked within me by Leo and Denise’s secret, but I found myself strangely enjoying Alex’s awestruck gaze tonight. My choice of a form-fitting, low-cut short dress had certainly paid off. Denise, too, seemed to have dressed up. Though a widow, she wore a striking red dress, her alluring, upturned eyes radiating an intoxicating blend of innocence and brazen allure. She exuded the sensual air of a seasoned woman. There was no need to ask; my son must have been… nourishing her. I shot a resentful glare at Leo. That rascal, so much energy, but he shouldn’t squander it like that! Denise, unaware I knew their secret, openly settled beside Leo. They even shared a drink, their eyes locked in an almost inappropriate way, a sickly sweet gaze that stretched like taffy, her expression the shy demeanor of a new bride. Leo’s hand was under the table, and if I wasn’t mistaken, his hand was on Denise’s thigh, maybe even lower. Before long, Denise’s cheeks were flushed, soft whimpers escaped her lips, and she practically melted onto Leo’s lap. Though I couldn’t see what they were doing, the wet, sticky sounds she made—”gurgles and squishes”—were both utterly mortifying and incredibly arousing. That little hussy, was she… pleasuring him down there? My body felt hot, and a sense of urgency began to prickle. If Alex noticed, it would be over for me. Thankfully, Alex’s attention was fully on me; he hadn’t even glanced their way. “Godmother, I’ve learned a few new special pressure points. Let me give you a massage!” I didn’t dare stay in the living room. Taking his hand, I led him to the master bedroom and lay face down on the bed. To my surprise, when Alex placed his hands on my buttocks, I didn’t feel any discomfort. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps the countless suggestive interactions over the years had accustomed me to something like this inevitably happening. So not only did I not refuse, I even lifted my hips slightly to make it easier for him to pull down my dress. “Godmother, your backside is so beautiful.” My face was pressed into the pillow, my disheveled long hair falling, covering my face and, mercifully, my blush. But as Alex’s hands grew bolder, my legs began to tremble. A forbidden thrill, a rush of excitement from doing something wrong, spread through me. My butt cheeks involuntarily clenched, then relaxed, then clenched again. My unprecedented submission emboldened Alex further. As he unhooked my bra, he continued, “And your skin is so fair, like a cream cake.” Then, his warm breath suddenly ghosted over my lower back, and he gently bit my backside. His warm, moist tongue traced a path from my tailbone, up the curve of my waist and hip, all the way to my neck, and then to behind my ear. “Oh…” I shuddered. It tickled. It tickled so much. It was a tickle that went straight to my core, like an electric shock. I involuntarily arched my upper body, trembling uncontrollably. My period was still a week away, and this was when my desire was at its peak. I unconsciously curled my toes, biting down hard on my lower lip. I dared not open my mouth, straining every muscle in my body to fight the intense, aching numbness that reached my very core, terrified I would let out a shameless, wanton moan. Finally, when I regained my composure, I collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily. “Godmother has been so good to you, and this is how you treat her?” “It’s precisely because Godmother is so good to me that I can’t bear to see you widowed any longer.” Alex leaned down, biting my earlobe. “I’ll make you… feel like you’re flying…” Just then, the bedroom door suddenly opened. Leo, naked, carrying a flushed Denise in his arms, walked in and laid her down beside me. As if on cue, Alex abruptly pulled down my panties…

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