Zaria froze, her breath hitching, but she didn’t stop fucking my mouth.
“I don’t care if we have an audience, look at me and suck this dick, Baby,” she ordered, causing my clit to pulsate in my panties even harder than it already was.
I continued to pleasure her, my movements slow and deliberate, a silent challenge to Calil. I wanted to see how far he would go, how much he would dare to explore. His presence added a new layer to our encounter, a thrilling dynamic that sent shivers down my spine.
Calil’s voice broke the silence, low and husky with desire. “Well, this is an interesting development.”
I smirked, my lips never leaving Zaria’s length. “Jealous, Professor?”
He chuckled, a sound that sent vibrations through my body, heightening my senses. “Hardly. I’m just curious to see where this goes.”
“Down her throat if she finishes the job,” Zaria countered.
Here I was caught on my knees in the middle of the bathroom with a mouth full of dick, yet I didn’t care enough to stop before Zaria gave me what I was chasing, her release.
“Calil, what are you doing?” Zaria asked.
He stepped closer, his presence dominating the small space. “I’m just here to observe and assist where needed, y’all good with that?”
I looked up at Zaria, seeking her consent, and she nodded, a silent agreement passing between us, a willingness to explore this new dynamic. Calil’s hands found Zaria’s hips, his touch firm and demanding, a contrast to my gentle caresses. She moaned, the sensation of being touched by two sets of hands, two different energies, overwhelming and intoxicating. His hands roamed her body, no hesitation, no fear, no apprehension, only the desire to familiarize himself with her curves as if he had plans to revisit them.
I could feel the heat building in my core, my body responding to the intense pleasure of the moment. Calil made his way to the floor, and before I knew what was happening, “Sit on my fucking face, Lena,” He barked, and I did as I was told.
He pushed my panties to the side as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, teasing and probing, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my pussy. I parted my legs wider, inviting his touch, my body trembling with anticipation.
“Smell so fucking good,” Calil commanded, his voice leaving no room for me to question just how aroused he was.
My hands trembled slightly as I clung to Zaria’s hips and let her fuck my throat harder, her dick stroking in and down my throat, saliva spilling out the sides of my mouth. I was now exposed and vulnerable. Calil’s mouth latched onto my clit, hungry and appreciative, making me feel desired and adored.
My fingers found Zaria’s asshole, and I rubbed it, causing her body to jerk as she gasped. Calil smacked my ass as I bounced on his face, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
“Oooohhhh fuck, eat this pussy, Daddy.”
“Mmmmhmmmm,” was his garbled reply as he continued to feast as his tongue snaked its way to my asshole.
“Fuckkkkk,” I moaned, as my body started convulsing and my orgasm ravaged me. “Oh God, yessssss.”
Looking back, Calil had his thick, long dick in his hand, and when I looked up, Zaria was watching him stroke it, her eyes glazed over with lust as I tightened my throat, finally triggering her release.
“Babbbbbyyyyy,” she moaned out, “Swallow all of it.”
Never one to miss a meal, I did as I was told and let every drop ease down my throat. As Zaria came down from her high, she looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of love and gratitude. We heard Calil grunt his release, and as I looked back, his hand and stomach were covered in his pleasure, and I could feel the weight of Calil’s gaze as I moved down his body and licked him clean. When I finally stood, I grabbed Zaria by her throat and kissed her deep and nasty.
In that moment, I knew that something had shifted, a collision of our worlds that had left us all breathless and wanting more. Looking into Zaria’s eyes, I knew that this was only the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with passion, desire, and the freedom to explore every facet of our beings. Calil was on his feet and in my face as he kissed me like he’d been waiting forever to do it, leaving me breathless before tonguing Zaria down as well, tucking his dick back in his grey sweats and leaving the bathroom,
I don’t know where this story goes next. I know freedom always costs something, and I’ve spent my whole life paying the price.
I always thought of myself as the quiet one. Between Caleb and Calla, I was the reserved sibling, the steady middle. Caleb was the driven one, the natural leader, the man who built an empire out of focus and grit. Calla was the bold one, sharp as glass and twice as dangerous when she wanted to be. And me? I was the silly, steady professor, the one who lived in equations and logic, the one who believed that if I followed the right formula, life would make sense.
I built my plans like blueprints. One woman. One house. A white picket fence, two kids, and a dog named something wholesome. A future my father could be proud of.
That’s what I told myself, anyway.
It took me years to realize he had that dream once, the house, the family, the image of perfection, and he still managed to break it. My mother’s quiet pain, the constant tension, the way love in our house felt conditional instead of safe. My father preached discipline, control, respectability, but behind closed doors, those same ideals became weapons.
So I’ve been asking myself ever since: was that dream ever mine, or was it the one I thought would finally make him love me without judgment?
Maybe I never really wanted the fence or the perfect life. Perhaps I just wanted his approval. And now that he’s gone, I’m still chasing it like a ghost.
