Mag-log in“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice low and strained.I froze on my knees, the measuring tape still in my hand, my fingers hovering inches away from the thick bulge in his briefs. My face burned with embarrassment, but I couldn’t look away. His cock was clearly hard now, pressing heavily against the thin fabric, the outline thick and unmistakable.“I… I was just trying to get the accurate inseam,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to touch… I’m sorry.”Kai took a slow, deep breath, his abs tightening. He didn’t step back, instead, he reached down and gently took my wrist, guiding my hand back to him. My palm pressed against the hard length of his cock through the briefs. It twitched under my touch.I looked up at him, shocked. “I thought you were gay…”A low, rough chuckle escaped him. “So did a lot of people. But I'm not.”He pulled me up to my feet, his hands gripping my waist as he backed me against the wall. His mouth came down on mine in a hungry kiss.
“Done already?” Kai asked. His voice was so low and smooth, but with a hint of something darker underneath all that calmness I blinked twice, snapping out of it. “I’m not done yet sir,” I said quickly, trying to sound professional even though my voice came out a little shaky, then intended to. “I just needed to write that measurement down first before I can proceed with the rest.”He released my wrist slowly, his fingers brushing along my skin as he let go. “Oh.”I stepped back slightly, trying to steady my heavy breathing. My hands were still shaking a little as I scribbled the chest measurement in my notebook. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time, watching every single movement I made. The fitting room suddenly felt smaller than usual, the air felt heavy with unspoken tension, like the space between us was charged with something neither of us wanted to know about at all.I moved to his shoulders next. I stretched the tape across his back, my knuckles grazing the smooth and wa
I was on my knees in my assigned fitting room, carefully pinning down all the hem of a long silk wedding gown for one of my regular female clients. When the door suddenly burst open. “Sophia!” My supervisor Rachel rushed in, looking stressed and worked up. Typical Rachel, always working so hard to the point even her face and body features could tell it all. “I actually need you to help me with something really important. The senior tailor just called in sick not long ago, and we’ve got a VIP client waiting upstairs in the personal fitting room. It’s Kai Lennox.” I sat back on my heels, frowning slightly. “I only do female clients, not male. That’s always been the rule. That's what we agreed on.” Rachel sighed and rubbed her temple. “I know, I know, I get it. But the request came directly via email and it’s actually non-negotiable at this point. And you're the only senior designer we have right now. It’s a massive privilege that his team even contacted our organization. Look, we sh
I couldn't say no. Although Alex didn't know this, I recorded my moment with him. I did it most of the time. I couldn't even think of it. My hands were shaking as I swiped the screen, finding the file from the glasses. I hit play. The screen showed the bleachers. It showed me lying back, my skirt bunched up, my legs wide. It showed Alex hovering over me. Marcus didn't wait for the video to get to the good part. He grabbed my waist and spun me around, pushing me face-down onto the soft leather of the couch. He didn't take my clothes off. He just hiked my skirt up to my waist, exposing my bare ass and the messy, wet state I was in. "Hold the tablet," he growled in my ear. "Watch yourself. Watch what you let him do to you while I reclaim what’s mine." I gripped the tablet with both hands, propping it up against the back of the couch. On the screen, Alex was just starting to push inside me. In the real world, I felt Marcus’s hands part my cheeks. He was fully hard, thick and pul
Alex didn't need to be told twice. He crawled over me, his eyes wide. He knew the game. He knew he was just a placeholder, but he didn't care. He gripped my waist, his fingers digging into my skin just like Marcus had. "You want your daddy, Lila?" Alex hissed, his voice trying to mimic that deep, commanding tone. "You want him to stretch you open again?" "Yes! Oh god, yes, Daddy!" I moaned, my eyes slamming shut as he pushed inside me. I focused on the memory of the morning. I focused on the way the counter felt against my back. "Fuck me harder! Fill me up like you did this morning!" The rhythm was fast and raw. The metal bleachers creaked and groaned under our weight, the sound echoing in the empty field. Every thrust was a reminder of what I had at home. Every moan was for the man waiting for me in the kitchen. "Ahhh! Mmm! Just like that, Daddy!" I screamed, my hands clutching Alex’s shoulders, imagining they were broader, stronger. "Give it to me! Make me yours!" The plea
The classroom was humid and smelled like old books and floor wax. Our history teacher was droning on about something that happened a hundred years ago, but my mind was stuck on what happened three hours ago. I could still feel the phantom weight of Marcus inside me. My skin felt tight, and every time I shifted in my plastic chair, I was reminded of the mess still drying between my legs. I leaned over to Alex, my voice a sharp whisper that cut through the silence of the room. "We need to go. Now." Alex looked up from his notebook, his brow furrowed. "What? Lila, it's the middle of the period. We’ve got twenty minutes left." "I don't care," I said, my eyes burning with a secret. "I have something to show you." "We'll get detention," he argued, though I could see his curiosity winning. "Old man Miller is already looking at us." "It’s worth a hundred detentions, Alex. Trust me." I didn't wait for him to agree. I raised my hand, gave a fake cough, and pointed toward the door.







