#55
“That, that really sounds… great,” I managed, the word ‘great’ coming out as a strained exhale.
My vision was swimming, and the blood pounding in my ears drowned out everything but the rhythmic sounds of wet, dedicated work happening just inches from the floor.
Morgana, immediately sensing the precariousness of my situation, slipped her hand discreetly under the table and rested it heavily on my thigh, just above Milly’s wandering fingers as if trying to calm me down.
Ally, who was quietly minding her business on my other side, simply smirked. It was clear that she, too, knew what was happening under the table.
“Alvin, are you sure you’re okay? You really look like you’re about to pass out.” Rodrigo asked.
This time, Morgana intervened swiftly, leaning forward to address Rodrigo with a charming, easy smile that drew his attention away from my reddening face.
“He’s just overwhelmed, Rod,” Morgana purred, her voice a silken balm, reaching across the table to tap Rodrigo’s hand lightly. She made eye contact, holding him. “It’s a lot to process all at once. And I know you can understand that, right? You too were also confused when Melissa told you about this…”
Rodrigo nodded, oblivious to the double entendre that was ripping my composure to shreds.
“Yeah, it was hard at first, but it was actually good once you get used to it, Al.” He was talking about the new company policy, I knew, but his words only added to the surreal chaos.
“Y-yeah,” I managed, a wisp of a sound.
Suddenly, Rodrigo’s eyes narrowed. He shifted in his seat, a curious expression crossing his face, and I saw his gaze drop, just a fraction, towards the tantalizing darkness beneath the table. My heart seized in my chest. He saw something. Did he notice?
But before his suspicion could solidify, before he could physically look, Donna, who had been quiet until now, launched into a lively anecdote about a team-building retreat she’d attended, her voice bright and insistent.
She peppered him with questions about potential activities and venues, her questions overlapping and demanding attention.
Simultaneously, Ally, with a movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible, adjusted her chair, inching it closer to mine, her body now forming a casual, yet impenetrable, shield between Rodrigo’s line of sight and the delicious depravity unfolding at my lap.
Their combined distraction gave me just enough seconds to gather myself, to harness the tempest raging inside me.
My fingers, trembling with a mixture of desperate need and exhilarating defiance, clenched in Milly’s hair. Her mouth was hot, wet, working tirelessly, the glottal sounds echoing in my ears, making my entire body vibrate.
I grabbed her head, no longer caring about subtlety, and pressed her down, hard, a silent command for more.
A wave, thick and molten, slammed into me, rising from my core, stealing my breath, my sanity, my very consciousness.
The world went white, then black, then exploded in a thousand brilliant shards of pure, unadulterated sensation.
A desperate, ragged groan tore from my lips, unheard by anyone but the conspirators beneath the table, as I emptied myself into Milly’s hungry, aggressive mouth.
The climax was so all-consuming, so utterly overwhelming, I almost passed out right there.
I took a deep breath as I felt my cock spurt all that cum gathered from my balls. Breathing hard, I was anxious if someone noticed it and look around only to see Johanson smothered with by Tina, Mick kissing a girl, and Lindon chatting with a blonde.
The other boys seemed to be the same, chatting, and no one seemed to have noticed what had happened.
Even Rodrigo was talking with Donna. And then I watched as Donna told Rodrigo she wanted some tart and asked him to grab some from the kitchen. Rodrigo did, saying he’ll come back to me, and left.
I gasped for air, my body still vibrating with the aftershocks. My cock, spent and limp, was immediately met by a new sensation – a soft, insistent mouth and a warm, searching tongue.
I opened my eyes, my vision still hazy, and saw Milly crawling out from under the table. She settled beside Donna, her cheeks puffing out as if she were holding a secret. She did.
With practiced ease, she opened her mouth, not to speak, but to pour the contents of my emptied balls into her coffee. She then slowly stirred my essence into the steaming liquid with a spoon.
“Thank you, Alvin- this looks creamier, just as I wanted it,” she murmured, her voice laced with a playful insouciance, before taking a deliberate sip.
“Fuck… what the hell is wrong with you…all,” I muttered helplessly while feeling the other girl under the table cleaning my cock.
“Pervert.” Ally snickered while her mother, Aunt Morgana, was giggling in amusement.
“So,” Donna chimed in, propping her chin on her elbow and fixing me with an expectant gaze, “Are you in?”
I rolled my eyes, the last vestiges of my outrage dissolving into a weary resignation.
“Do what you want,” I conceded, surrendering to the sheer, audacious audacity of it all. The line had not just been crossed; it had been obliterated.
…
After breakfast, we drifted toward the living room, half-awake and full from the meal. The plan was simple: do absolutely nothing. The others who hadn’t eaten yet could take our place at the table later, while we lounged around and let the day move at its own lazy pace.
The couches were already half-occupied, so some girls took to the floor with pillows and blankets, chatting and scrolling through their phones. Someone turned on the TV but left the volume low, letting soft music play in the background. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm and golden, painting lazy streaks across the furniture.
I sank at the center of the couch, caught between Ally’s and Aunt Morgana’s chatter.
Ally laughed loud enough to make heads turn, elbowing me like I was her co-conspirator in every joke she cracked. Morgana, meanwhile, leaned close every so often, slipping in quips of her own, her perfume curling around me as her thigh brushed mine under the table.
We looked like kids on a retreat. No pressure, no rules, just a quiet moment before the chaos of the next week.
That was when I noticed movement at the doorway.
A group of older women entered the kitchen, their presence impossible to miss.
I recognized them instantly.
The women from dawn.
The ones who had walked in on me and Layla mid-act.
Their eyes found me immediately, and their smiles stretched wider. No hesitation, no shame. They greeted me with bold waves and little smirks. I raised a hand back, grinning despite myself.
And then I took a proper look at them.
They weren’t dressed. Not really.
One wore a robe tied so loosely it might as well not have been tied at all. Another had thrown on a camisole so thin it left nothing to the imagination. One had come in with only shorts and messy hair covering her chest, while the boldest of them all? Topless, not a care in the world, as if walking into a full dining room half-naked was no different from strolling into her own bathroom.
Yet, not a single bat of an eye.
Everyone just kept talking, eating, and laughing.
I thought to myself, Yeah… I really should get used to this.
To my surprise, one of them came over and greeted me.
“Morning, lover boy~” she said before leaning over to kiss me on the lips. I was surprised, but even more the others around me.
“Good morning, Jena.”
I said, remembering her to be the one who tried to join me and Layla having sex.
“Good~ You remember my name,” she said, clearly pleased. Her smile softened for a moment, that mix of teasing and genuine warmth that made her eyes shimmer.
“Well, hard to forget.” I chuckled.
“Oh, you sweet thing.” Jena’s tone dropped to a low, playful murmur before she cupped my face with both hands. Her fingers were warm, nails lightly grazing my jaw as she pulled me in for another kiss—hungrier, deeper this time. I felt the weight of her as she swung a leg over and straddled my lap, pressing closer, her breath brushing against my cheek.
For a split second, the world blurred. The chatter, the music, the smell of perfume and food—all drowned beneath the heat of her lips. She kissed like she didn’t care who was watching, like she’d been holding herself back for too long.
Then—
“Okay, that’s enough, Jena. You’re in front of the kids,” Morgana’s voice cut through the moment like a cool breeze. Calm. Sharp. Certain.
Jena froze mid-movement, lips still dangerously close to mine. She blinked, slowly, as if waking up from a trance.
I exhaled, finally realizing how still I’d been. Around us, the room had gone quiet—though not out of shock. Every pair of eyes was locked on us, not in disapproval but in pure curiosity, like the scene had turned into some kind of casual entertainment. A few of the girls even grinned knowingly, whispering things I couldn’t quite catch.
Morgana stood beside the couch now, one hand on her hip, the other resting lightly on Jena’s shoulder. “Come on, get off him,” she said with a small smile. “I know how much you like the boy, but right time, right place, okay?”
“Eh…” Jena mumbled, pouting like a scolded cat. “You’re no fun, Morgana.”
Her friend—tall, dark-haired, with a smug grin—came over and tugged at her arm. “Come on, Jena. Save it for later, yeah? You’re practically melting him.”
“I wasn’t melting him,” she said, shooting me a glance that told me she absolutely was.
I couldn’t help but laugh quietly, rubbing the back of my neck. The tension that hung in the air was thick enough to taste, and the girls’ playful remarks only made it worse—or better, depending on how one looked at it.
Morgana sighed, though there was a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Honestly, you women…” she muttered.
And just like that, the mood eased again. The chatter resumed, but the occasional glance thrown my way reminded me that the memory of that moment wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon.
Jena reluctantly climbed off my lap, moving slowly—as if hoping I’d change my mind halfway through. Her thighs brushed mine one last time before she straightened up, lips still parted, eyes lingering on me with a mix of frustration and playful challenge.
For a heartbeat, she just stood there, looking down at me. The faint curl of her smile said everything she didn’t put into words — “Stop me. Pull me back.”
But I didn’t. Instead, I leaned back on the couch, steadying my breath and forcing a calm smile.
“Well, have breakfast first,” I said casually, nodding toward the table.
She blinked, as if surprised I’d resisted, then let out a soft scoff and smirked. “You’re cruel, you know that?”
“Self-control,” I replied with a shrug. “It’s good for digestion.”
That earned a burst of laughter from the group.
Jena rolled her eyes and turned toward the table, snatching a piece of toast as she passed. “Fine,” she said, biting into it dramatically. “But you’re not getting away that easy, boy.”
“Didn’t think I was,” I murmured.
Her grin widened at that, and a few of the girls nearby giggled. Someone whispered, “See, I told you he wouldn’t mind,” and another replied, “Why don’t you try it? If you kiss him, I bet he wouldn’t push you away either.”
“Ah, I’m scared.”
“Coward.”
“What did you say?! Why don’t you do it then?!”
“I—I’ll wait until we’re alone.”
“Coward!”
Their playful argument was followed by laughter and a few teasing whistles. I pretended not to hear, focusing instead on my coffee, though I could still feel Jena’s eyes burning into me from across the room. She sat with one leg draped lazily over the other, chewing slowly, eyes locked on mine — like a predator savoring the sight of something it planned to devour later.
The atmosphere had shifted again — lighter, yes, but charged. The laughter and chatter filled the air like warm static, wrapping around us, playful and heavy all at once. Beneath it all, that quiet tension lingered, humming under the surface like a hidden current.
Beside me, Ally snorted and nudged my elbow. “Wipe that shitty grin off your face, you dog.”
