LOGINRebecca's gaze shifted from her mother's face to mine, to the obvious state of undress, the sexual tension still crackling in the air. The shock in her eyes didn't morph into anger or betrayal. It melted into something else—a dawning, awestruck hunger. The ultimate taboo, broken.
"You... you fucked him," she breathed."He fucked me," Mrs. Charleston corrected gently. "There's a difference." She looked at me. "Isn't there, Nicholas?"I could only nod, completely out of my depth.Rebecca took a step into the room, her eyes locked on her mother. The rebellious daughter was gone. In her place was a fascinated, eager follower."Did he... was he good?"Mrs. Charleston laughed, a low, throaty sound." "Ask him yourself. He's right here."Rebecca looked at me, her earlier defiance replaced by a new, profound curiosity. "Well?""It was.." I searched for a word that wouldn't get me killed. "Intense."Rebecca walked right up to her mother. She was almost as tHe released me just as quickly, his expression unchanged. "Be good," he said to the room, and then he was gone, the door closing with a soft click.I stood frozen, my pussy throbbing in time with my heartbeat. I was soaked. I could feel the slickness. What the hell was that? My mind screamed it was wrong, an accident, he couldn't have meant... but the look in his eyes, the deliberate pressure of that finger...He'd known exactly what he was doing.The day passed in a surreal haze. I made the boys lunch, we played games, I put on a movie. The strange, restless tingling between my legs never fully faded. By 3 PM, the boys were crashed out, Leon snoring softly on the recliner, Jason asleep on a pile of cushions on the floor. The house was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator.The silence was oppressive. My skin felt too tight. The memory of his touch played on a loop in my head, each replay stoking the heat low in my belly.I needed relief. I ached for it. This was my second mist
My name is Chloe. I'm nineteen, a community college student, and for the last three years, l've babysat for the Evans family next door. Mr Evans— Mark—is a divorced financial consultant in his late thirties. His ex-wife moved across the country two years ago, leaving him with their two boys: Jason, who's six, and Leon, who's four. I've always seen him as just... the nice dad next door. He's quite handsome, in a tired, responsible kind of way. We'd exchange waves over the fence. He paid me well, always on time, and his boys were sweet. Everything changed on a rainy Saturday in October. He texted me that morning: *Chloe, I have an emergency client call. Can you come over at 11? Might be a long day. I'd double the rate. I didn't mind. I needed the money, and my own house was too quiet. My mom was working a double shift at the hospital. I threw on a simple, light blue sundress—it was still warm for fall— and my white Converse, and jogged next door
Claire’s POV I was looking at more naked male arousal in one moment than I had in my entire life prior to Ethan. The reality of what was about to happen slammed into me. This wasn't just touching anymore. Ethan saw my wide eyes. "Their turn, Claire. You've teased them enough. It's only fair." "W-what are the rules?" I stammered. "No kissing on the mouth," Ethan said. "That's mine. And my cock is the only one that finishes inside you tonight. That's my rule. Otherwise... it's your show, baby. You tell us what you want." The power shifted back to me, and it was an aphrodisiac. I looked at the four men, at their eager, waiting faces. I pointed a trembling finger at Mark. “Ugh…You." He didn't need to be told twice. He moved between my spread legs, his large hands gripping my thighs. He rubbed the broad head of his cock through my slick folds, coating himself. "Ready?" he asked, his voice guttural.
Claire’s POVEthan looked down at me. His eyes were black with lust, but also with love."Claire? It's your body. Your choice. Do you want them to touch you?"My mind was a whirlwind. This is the point of no return. If I say yes, I am complicit. I am not just his gift; I am the willing participant. I looked at the faces of the men around me. They were good men. Husbands. Fathers. Friends. And they wanted me with a desperation that was intoxicating."Yes," I heard myself say. The word was clear, strong. "But... When I say stop, everything stops.""Of course," Ethan said immediately.The others nodded vehemently."Okay then," Ethan said, stepping back. "Gentlemen."For a moment, nothing happened.They were like boys offered a forbidden treat, afraid to take it. Then, Mark moved first. He stepped close, his big hands hovering over my breasts. "May I?"I nodded, my breath catching.His touch was whisper-soft. His palms were warm and slightly rough. He cupped my breasts reverently, his thu
Claire’s POVThe world tilted. The rain outside sounded like static. "What?" The word was dry, crumbling from my lips."Please baby, undress for them. Right here. I want to show you off to my best friends."Time stopped. My mind fractured into a thousand shards of thought.*Is this a test? A cruel joke?He's never mentioned this, not once in four years.Is he drunk? He's only had two beers.He's serious. Oh my God, he's completely serious.They're all staring. They're hard. I can see the bulges in their jeans. They want this.Do I want this? I'm a mother. I'm a project manager. I make PTA cupcakes. That little flame inside me is now a bonfire.*Ethan saw the storm in my eyes. He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear."Please, Claire. For me. For us. I've never wanted anything more. I'll love you forever. No matter what."I looked into his eyes. I saw no doubt, no cruelty. Only a blazing, possessive adoration and a deep, vulnerable desir
Claire’s POVIt started, as so many things do, on a rainy Tuesday that felt like any other.Except it wasn't. It was our four-year anniversary. Ethan, my fiancé of three years, had booked us a table at "La Luna," the impossibly trendy steakhouse downtown that required reservations two months in advance. I wore the emerald green dress he loved, the one that dipped just low enough to hint at cleavage and hugged every curve down to my knees.Ethan looked devastating in his charcoal suit. At thirty-four, he carried himself with a calm, grounded confidence that had drawn me to him from our first date. I was thirty, a mother of two from a previous marriage that had fizzled out into polite co-parenting. With Ethan, l'd found a passion I thought was lost—a deep, burning connection that went beyond the bedroom, though what happened there was certainly a highlight.We were seated at a secluded booth. Candlelight flickered in his hazel eyes."To us, Claire," he said, clinking his wine glass agai







