The Unexpected Detour

CHAPTER SIX

LUCENA POV

On my way to Monika's house that night, the road stretched out dark and silent ahead of me. The trees lining the street seemed to sing in the wind, their leaves whispering secrets while the streetlights flickered weakly against the black sky. My erection was so painfully hard I could barely sit still in the driver’s seat. Every bump in the road made me jump and grind against the seat, desperate for any friction. I needed to release so badly my mind was fogged with it. All I could think about was Monika—how wet and tight her pussy would be when I finally got there, how she’d wrap those thick thighs around me and let me bury myself deep inside her.

I drove too fast, weaving through the sparse traffic without caring, foot heavy on the accelerator. My imagination ran wild: Monika on her back, legs spread, juices glistening as I thrust into her. The fantasy was so vivid I didn’t see the car until it was too late. I smashed into the rear of a brand-new, gleaming vehicle parked along the curb. The crunch of metal snapped me back to reality. Instantly I knew I was fucked—insurance, police, the whole mess.

Before I could even open my door, a couple stepped out of the darkness toward me. Tall, fair-skinned, well-dressed. With them were their daughters—two young women of average height, identical in face and form, with the same soft curves, the same full breasts straining against their tops, the same long legs. Twins. The resemblance was striking, almost unreal. My cock throbbed harder at the sight of them.

I couldn’t help it. Right there, still sitting in the wreck of my car, I started picturing the two of them on their knees in front of me. One twin sucking the head of my dick, tongue swirling, while the other licked and sucked my balls, soft moans vibrating against my skin. I’d have a hand on each of their chests, pinching and rolling their hard nipples, sliding lower to finger-fuck their tight, wet pussies in rhythm. In my head I could already hear their sweet, loud moans—high and breathy, begging for more as they took turns swallowing me deeper.

I was still lost in that filthy daydream when a sharp voice cut through.

“Who are you, mister? Are you blind or what exactly is the problem?”

The father’s voice was cold and angry. The mother stood beside him with her arms crossed, already pulling out a phone. The twin daughters watched silently, their identical faces unreadable, but I could feel their eyes on me. Before I could climb out of the car or even finish apologizing, the couple was already talking about calling the police, demanding my license, making sure I paid for every scratch on their pristine new car.

I raised my hands, heart pounding, and started apologizing—sincerely this time, or at least sounding like it. “I’m sorry, truly. I wasn’t paying attention. Whatever the damage is, I’ll cover it. No problem.”

They didn’t look convinced, but they listened. And while they did, my eyes kept drifting back to the twins, still imagining those pretty mouths and those curving bodies, still aching to finish what my mind had started.

I heard one of the twins speak up.

“Dad, it’s fine. I’m sure it wasn’t intentional. The poor guy looks really sorry. Let’s just let him go. It’s okay.”

I was still in shock. I hadn’t expected any of this. Our eyes met, and I saw her staring straight at the clear bulge in my trousers. My cock was hard and obvious. She looked at it like she couldn’t look away, almost as if it already belonged to her.

Her parents decided I could leave. No trouble. That was when I learned their names. The father called one Chloe and the other Zoey. Chloe, the one who had been watching me, asked her dad if I could come home with them for dinner. I was surprised. I wondered why she wanted that. Zoey spoke up right away, sounding annoyed.

“No. He can’t come home with us. Why would he?”

Chloe didn’t give up. She talked quietly with their father, and in the end he said yes. My car was damaged from the accident, so it made sense for them to give me a ride and a meal. I got into their expensive car. The air conditioning felt cool and pleasant against my skin the moment the doors closed.

We drove away. A few minutes later I felt a hand on my thigh, then higher. I looked down and saw it was Chloe’s hand. She slipped it under my trousers and wrapped her fingers around my cock. The touch was warm and deliberate. My body reacted at once. My cock grew even harder in her hand. She stroked me slowly under the fabric, her palm moving up and down with steady pressure.

My mind filled with pictures of her mouth on me, sucking me the way someone might enjoy a sweet candy stick. The thought only made me harder. She kept rubbing until a small sound slipped out of my throat before I could stop it.

Everyone in the car turned toward me. Zoey frowned.

“What was that sound?”

“Nothing,” I said too fast, like I was hiding something. I looked at Chloe, but her face stayed calm and innocent, as if she had nothing to do with it. Zoey kept asking questions, saying the noise had sounded strange. Chloe stayed quiet. I quickly made up an excuse about the seatbelt catching on something. Zoey didn’t fully believe me, but she let it go for the moment.

We arrived at their house. It was a true luxury home—a wide circular driveway of dark stone leading up to a modern mansion of glass and pale marble. Soft lights glowed along the outside. Inside, the entrance hall was high and open, with a floating staircase made of wood and glass. The living rooms flowed into one another under warm recessed lighting. Soft sofas, a large fireplace, and the light scent of flowers filled the space.

I was taken to the dining room. Maids in neat uniforms served dinner—roast meat, vegetables, and fresh bread—while Chloe’s parents sat at the long wooden table. Zoey had gone upstairs. We started eating and talking about ordinary things. Then Chloe’s spoon slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. She bent down to pick it up, disappearing halfway under the edge of the table.

A second later her hand found me again. This time she opened my trousers fully, slid her fingers inside, and closed them around my cock. She began massaging me with slow, careful strokes—up the length of the shaft, a gentle squeeze at the base, then back up to the sensitive tip. The secret touch under the tablecloth felt intense. I kept my face calm and answered her father’s polite questions while Chloe’s hand continued its steady, hidden work, turning every quiet moment of the dinner into something private.