LOGINNicholas’ POV The week after Daisy marked me with her scent was a special kind of hell. Mid semester was a blur of caffeine and cramming, but my brain was elsewhere—stuck in a loop of her lotion-slick skin, the bite of steel cuffs, the taste of her on my fingers. I jacked off constantly, of course. In the shower before class, in my car between lectures, in my bed at night with the headboard deliberately knocking the wall. No answer came from her side. The silence was a punishment. Daisy and I moved around each other like planets in a cold orbit. We carpooled in a quiet so thick you could choke on it. She wore oversized sweatshirts and no makeup, her hair in a practical ponytail. She helped me with my communication coursework at the kitchen table, her explanations patient, her eyes never meeting mine for too long. It was maddening. I’d slap her ass playfully when she leaned over the table to point at a formula; she’d just swat my hand away without a word, a faint pink blush on her
Nicholas’ POV Daisy finally got up, returned to her chair, and began lotioning herself, paying extravagant attention to her own breasts, pinching her nipples to hard points. She looked directly at my hiding spot and smiled, giving her breast a slow, suggestive squeeze. The music stopped. Anna asked for help with her back. Daisy gestured to the empty bottle. With a playful sigh, Anna stood up. My heart stopped. Anna was topless, she walked over to Rebecca's lounge. Instead of using her hands, she knelt and leaned forward, dragging her own beautiful, pert breasts slowly, sensuously, through the excess lotion on Rebecca's back. She moaned softly as she coated herself, her hands coming up to massage the lotion into her own nipples. I was in a state of near-terminal arousal. They eventually all got up, wrapped in towels, and headed inside. I waited, debating a frantic escape. Then I heard the side gate click. All three
Nicholas’ POVThe visual was hypnotic, devastating even.The first chorus hit. "Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get the feeling that you can't shift the tide?"She kicked off her heels and climbed onto the bed, standing over me, her feet planted on either side of my hips. I was lying on my back, chained, utterly at her mercy. I reached up with my free hand, desperate to touch the smooth skin of her calf. She shook her head sharply, a vicious no. She pointed at my cock, which was rigid against my stomach.The command was clear. I wrapped my hand around myself and began to stroke.She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the headboard above my head, her magnificent breasts hanging down, swaying just inches from my face. I could smell her perfume, her sweat, something darker and muskier. I groaned, my strokes becoming frantic."Not yet," she mouthed over the music.She lowered herself, straddling my chest, her ass settling just below my chin.
Nicholas’s POVSunday night. The house was quiet.Mom was asleep. Daisy was in her room with her private line. I was in mine, the memory of Friday's debacle a fresh wound. But my body didn't care about shame. It was restless, thrumming with a need I didn't understand. I pulled out the magazine again, a masochistic impulse. I started on my own bed, the friction pathetic compared to her satin spread.Frustrated, I got more vigorous, the headboard tapping a soft, rhythmic knock against the wall.My phone, face-down on the nightstand, lit up and buzzed. An unknown number. I hesitated, then answered, still moving."Hello?""Hey, Pervert."It was Daisy. She'd called me from another line."What are you doing in there? I can hear your bed knocking." Her voice was low, a smoky taunt."Nothing. Just... can't sleep, so I'm studying.""Right. Is it 'Lesbian Biology' again? The chapter on... mutual pollination?"I froze, my hips stuttering to a halt. "What? No.""So, Pervert," she continued, the w
Nicholas’s POVThe hum of my ancient laptop was the only sound in the house. I'd just turned 18, and it felt like the absolute opposite of freedom. Dad bailed years ago to start a sunnier, less depressing family down south. Mom... Mom tried. She worked as an office manager, home by 4pm on most days, but she'd checked out emotionally around the same time Dad packed his bags. Her version of love was microwave dinners and reminding me to take out the trash.My stepsister, Daisy, was 20. Our mom married her dad when we were kids, and he took off a few years later, so we were stuck in the same sinking ship, bound by law, not blood. We both attended Model Community College, a concrete box a few miles away. The rich kids from our high school were at Langford University, posting pics of their ivy-covered dorms and frat parties on Insta. Daisy and I scrolled through them in shared, silent resentment on our commutes.My high school career could be summarized in one word: invisible.Geeky, awkwa
Cassandra's POVLater that afternoon, the doorbell rang.The final participant was a woman.Maddox, back in his impeccably professional black attire, his face a closed door, led her to the lounge. Her name was Hannah. She was stunning-thick in the best way, with generous curves, full, pillowy breasts, and an ass that was a glorious, round handful. She had a confident smile and curious eyes behind stylish glasses.Maddox made to leave. "Stay," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. He paused, his back to me.I turned to Hannah, smiling. "Do you know why you're here?""For a unique... experience," she said, her voice smooth. " "The parameters were intriguing.""Good," I said. I walked over to her, cupping her face. "You're beautiful." I kissed her. She responded, her mouth soft and eager. I broke the kiss and looked at Maddox, who was watching us, a storm in his eyes. "Maddox. Come here. Pleasure her."He moved like an automaton. He approached Hannah from behind, his hands goin







