Atticus yelped like a startled puppy, his cheeks flushing an adorable shade of crimson as I dragged him along.
"Loona, this is highly inappropriate! I have work—" I cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips, feeling the warmth of his breath hitch against my skin. Saints above, he was so easy to rattle, like a fragile teacup in a storm.
Freya led the way, her strides long and purposeful, like she owned every shadow in this gods-forsaken place. We dashed through the dim corridors, my hand clamped around Atticus’s wrist, his protests mumbling out in half-formed sentences that only made me giggle harder.
The shower room loomed ahead, a cavernous space tiled with cracking white porcelain, lit by flickering lanterns that cast dancing shadows along the walls. It could fit a dozen people easily, maybe more if they were friendly—oh, the possibilities swirled in my mind like a naughty whirlwind.
I released Atticus just long enough to twist the rusty knob, and hot water burst from the overhead pipes with a satisfying hiss, steam curling up like forbidden secrets.
Freya didn’t waste a second; she peeled her shirt over her head slowly, deliberately, her pale skin glistening with sweat under the lantern light. Those scars of hers—jagged lines from old battles—only made her look more fierce, more deliciously untamed.
Her breasts flopped free with a wet, sweaty slap that echoed lewdly throughout the room, heavy and full, nipples hardening in the humid air. Her breasts glistened with droplets that caught the light, nipples puckering into tight, rosy buds just begging to be tasted.
Atticus shielded his eyes immediately, his hand flying up like he’d been slapped by indecency itself. "Freya! I—I didn’t see anything!" he stammered, voice cracking. She tossed the shirt aside with a casual flick. It landed it in a damp heap on the tiles, the fabric squelching softly, releasing a whiff of her sweat, a wild, herbal scent, like crushed sage and storm-soaked earth, intoxicating the humid air.
Just then, I sauntered back to Atticus, clutching his hand again, my fingers intertwining with his in a way that made his pulse race under my touch.
"Oh please, you’re acting like you’ve never seen a pair of tits before," I teased, raising an eyebrow as I pulled him closer to the steaming spray.
Atticus muttered something under his breath about propriety and scholarly pursuits, but his eyes darted sideways despite himself. Freya let out a low giggle behind us—rare for her, like thunder rumbling in the distance—and suddenly it clicked in my wicked little mind.
"Oh gods," I gasped, eyes widening in mock horror before my face twisted into a sly smile. "You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?" Atticus bit his lip, his reply dying in his throat as his face turned an even deeper shade of red.
This only fueled my excitement, a bubbly rush surging through me like champagne fizzing over. Saints, the thought of breaking this precise shell of his was too tempting, like unwrapping a forbidden gift.
He shifted uncomfortably, trying to pull away, but I held fast, my voice dripping with playful mockery. "Come on, Atti—can I call you Atti? Admit it. You’ve been buried in books so long, you’ve forgotten what fun feels like."
Freya, now completely bare, her frame of muscle and silken gold, strolled up behind him like a predator closing in on its prey, her puffy pussy already wet and glistening in the heat.
Without a word, she yanked his pants down in one swift motion, underwear and all, letting his cock flop free into the steamy air.
It bobbed wildly, thick and veiny, the shaft a surprising length that curved slightly upward, skin flushed pink and already half-hard from the tension. The head was bulbous and glistening. Gods, the girth—it was enough to make my mouth water, nestled in a trim patch of dark hair that screamed scholarly neglect turned accidental allure.
I actually jumped back a step, hand flying to my chest in exaggerated surprise. "Well damn, you’re bigger than I thought! Gods, just looking at it is making my head dizzy," I gasped, licking my lips as I caught the faint, salty tang of his pre-cum misting through the air.
Atticus whimpered, hands instinctively moving to cover himself, but Freya commanded sharply, "Lift your arms."
He obeyed with a pitiful whine, arms rising slowly as she pulled his shirt off, revealing a torso of gleaming muscles—toned abs and broad shoulders that spoke of hidden strength under that bookish exterior.
Another surprise hit me like a splash of cold water; who knew he’d been hiding this all along? I couldn’t help myself, I bit my lip before stripping bare in a flurry, my femboy frame lithe and smooth, skirt and top pooling at my feet.
My own cock twitched in anticipation, but I focused on him first, placing two delicate hands on his shaft. It quivered under my touch, warm and velvety, pulsing like a living thing desperate for more—almost cute, in a filthy, needy sort of way.
"Loona, please... stop," Atticus begged, his voice a breathless plea that only made me grin wider. Naturally, I didn’t listen; instead, I teased harder, fingers tracing the veins lightly, feeling him throb.
"Oh, come on, Atti. It’s just a little fun. Doesn’t it feel good?" Freya and I exchanged a glance, her eyes dark with amusement, and we both giggled like conspirators in a grand scheme.
I turned my back to him then, bending slightly to give him a view of my ass, already twitching in the steam. Freya’s voice cut through like a whip. "Kneel."
Atticus hesitated, but she pressed him down firmly, his knees hitting the wet tiles with a splash. She grabbed his chin, tilting his head up to stare right at my wet, glistening bussy, smeared with sweat and anticipation, the slickness dripping down my thighs, leaving a trail of obscene promise.
Concern flickered across his face, eyes wide, but Freya’s sharp scowl—grim and dominant—pushed him forward. He leaned closer, taking a tentative sniff that made his cock wriggle like a wild animal scenting prey.
"Smell that? That’s what you’re about to dive into," I teased, wiggling my hips to taunt him further. "Don’t be shy, give it a taste!"
His hesitation lingered. I rolled my eyes dramatically before snatching his head from behind and shoving his face right between my cheeks with a lewd smack, feeling the hot press of his tongue slick across my entrance with a wet, filthy smear.
"Ohhh, fuck, that’s good," I moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the tiles as his tongue slowly pressed past the rim, trailing inside with a squelch that sent shivers up my spine. Gods, it was so warm, so invasive, coating my insides with thick trails of saliva, each sloppy lick leaving my hole dripping wetter, the slickness oozing out to mix with the steam.
My cock sprang up then, leaking now, as I pressed his head deeper, pulling him in until he was whimpering and moaning right into me, the vibrations buzzing straight through my core.
Freya knelt behind him, her breasts pressing against his back, soft and heavy, nipples tracing hard points against his skin. Then she wrapped both hands around his cock, working it with ravenous strokes, her motions firm and unyielding.
"You’re this hard already? Gods, you’re fucking pathetic," she sneered, her fingers pressing harder. "Keep licking, or I’ll jerk you until you’re crying."
This set Atticus spiraling, his tongue delving deeper, lapping sloppily as he gasped "Mmmph... nghhh~" into my ass, muffled but desperate.
I could feel it building in me, that emotional rush—excitement mixed with a tender ache for his innocence.
Freya grunted low, her pussy beginning to leak onto the tiles beneath her, a slick puddle forming as she pumped him harder. "That’s it," she growled, her voice like gravel. "Taste him properly."
In that instant, Atticus’s hands shot up to grope the back of my thighs. He couldn’t contain himself anymore; like a crashing wave, he convulsed, shooting thick globs of cum in hot spurts across the tile.
Freya cupped her hands around his tip, trying to catch it, but it only made him shoot another load, sticky white ropes oozing between her fingers, dripping filthy onto the floor. I giggled, watching over my shoulder, the sight was so naughty it made my bussy clench tighter around his tongue in response.
"Oh, Atti, you’re making such a filthy mess!" I squealed, my voice bubbling with delight. "Such a thick load—did you save it just for us?"
Releasing my grip, I let him pull away, gasping for breath as a string of saliva stretched between his lips and my rim, glistening obscenely.
"Fuck, your tongue should come with a warning label," I teased, licking my lips as I caught my breath. "You sure you’ve never done this before?"
Before Atticus could let out another whimper, I spun around and gently pressed him back onto the floor, his head falling between Freya’s luscious thighs, already coated with her creamy essence, her scars framing the view like battle trophies. She growled low but let it happen, her eyes locking onto mine with that quiet sense of fire.
"Loona, this is too much, I don’t think I can go on any longer," Atticus protested.
"Aww, that was only a little taste, Atti," I teased, voice high and cheery, my ass still twitching from his attentions. "Now it’s time for the full package."
The steam curled tighter around us then, thick and suffocating, as I dropped to my knees with a wicked grin, my eyes locked on Atticus’s flushed face before landing on his cock, still glistening from our earlier chaos, twitching weakly in the light.
I wasn’t done with him yet—oh no, not even close. I gripped my cock, small but eager, and smacked it against his with a wet, filthy slap that echoed off the tiled walls. The contact sent a jolt through me, my heart racing with delight at the sheer naughtiness of it all.
Atticus’s shaft stirred awake, stiffening under my teasing assault, the head swelling red and slick with leftover cum.
He yelped, a pathetic little sound, and started to beg, "Loona, please... I-I can’t!" His voice cracked, desperate, but Freya wasn’t having it.
She leaned in, her cum-coated fingers—still sticky from his last eruption—caressing his cheek, smearing the thick, milky mess across his skin and fogged-up glasses. The sight was obscene, his face glistening like he’d been marked.
"Stay quiet," Freya growled, her voice grim and commanding as she pressed those slick fingers into his mouth, coating his tongue with his own salty release.
Atticus gagged softly, eyes wide behind his smeared lenses, but he obeyed, sucking weakly as she held his jaw firm.
Seizing the moment, I shifted higher, one hand pressing against his heaving chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum like a trapped bird. Then, with a slow, deliberate descent, I sank onto his cock, the thick length sliding into my bussy with a wet squelch that made my toes curl on instinct.
"Hah~!" I moaned, loud and shameless, as his shaft filled me, feeling the delicious burn as he stretched my insides. Atticus’s body convulsed beneath me, arching up as he melted into the sensation, his hands scrabbling at the tiles.
His fingers dug in, nails scraping against the slick surface, leaving faint trails in the puddles of water and cum. Freya watched, her lips curling into a pleased smirk.
I moved with a slow, pounding rhythm, each thrust deliberate, savoring the way his cock pulsed inside me, slick with our combined filth.
"Such a big boy aren’t you~mmm?" I purred, teasing as I rocked my hips, my voice dripping with mockery. "Gods, your cock’s practically kissing my insides."
His cheeks burned brighter, but his moans—stuttered "Ahh, ugh... oh fuck..."—betrayed how much he was unraveling. I shut my eyes, letting the sensations flood me: the wet slide of him, the heat of the steam, the way my cock began leaking pre-cum onto his stomach with every rhythmic bounce.
When my eyes fluttered open, Freya was leaning forward now, her breath ghosting through the humid air, her pale skin glistening like a warrior goddess.
Without hesitation, our lips crashed together, a kiss raw with longing and passion, tongues tangling as I tasted the salt of her sweat. My hands clutched hers, fingers interlocking as we rode the storm of Atticus’s trembling form beneath us.
Then, without warning, Freya slammed her body down on Atticus’s face, covering his coated mouth with her wet, leaking pussy, the slick folds smearing across his lips with a filthy schlick that made my own hole clench in response.
"Eat it, you greedy little fuck," she snarled, pulling back from our kiss, her voice low and commanding. "Lick up every last drop or I’ll smother you till you drown."
Atticus’s muffled "Mmmph!" vibrated against Freya’s dripping folds, his tongue darting out instinctively, lapping at her with wet, sloppy slurps. Freya growled low, her hips grinding down harder, her juices flooding his mouth, dripping down his chin in a thick shiny mess.
The rush hit me hard—filthy joy, a tender ache for his vulnerability, and a thrill at our shared dominance. I pulled Freya into another kiss, hungry for more.
But then, all of a sudden, Atticus shifted, his hands gripping my thighs with surprising strength, pulling me off his cock with a wet pop that left my bussy gaping and dripping.
I gasped, the kiss breaking as my breath caught, a mix of shock and thrill sparking through me. Freya lifted her hips, her pussy hovering just above his face, giving him a moment to breathe.
His words came out wet and broken. "Enough of this..."
Freya snorted, amused, but before I could even begin to taunt him, Atticus surged upward with a strength I didn’t know he had. Freya leaped back in surprise and in one fluid motion, Atticus launched into me, slamming my back to the tiles with a splash, our roles reversed in a heartbeat.
I gasped, heart racing, breath sporadic as I stared up at him. His eyes were wild now, pupils blown wide, a predator ready to devour.
I felt a flicker of panic mixed with giddy excitement as he grabbed me by the thighs and hoisted my legs over his shoulders. His cock, still hard and slick, rubbed against my leaking little bussy, smearing thick globs of cum and spit across my entrance like he was marking his territory.
I let it happen, my body yielding as, without hesitation, he rammed his cock deep inside me, the force driving a curse from my lips.
"Arugh,Fuck~!" The stretch was intense, his girth filling me to the brim, each thrust a wet, punishing rhythm that echoed throughout the room. My cock was leaking steadily now, pre-cum pooling on my stomach as he fucked me like a machine, relentless and precise.
His coated glasses slipped down his nose and fell between us, landing in the puddle of our mess with a soft clink.
I cupped his face with both hands, fingers gentle despite the chaos, my voice soft but teasing. "It’s okay, let it all out—fuck me like you mean it."
His composure faltered, eyes softening for a moment as I comforted him like a child. Freya appeared behind him then, her lips pressing a soft, loving kiss to the back of his neck.
One hand grabbed his ass, squeezing hard as she slipped her fingers into her own pussy with the other, masturbating with wet, squelching strokes that matched his rhythm.
Atticus broke completely then, arching his back with a guttural "Unnngh~!" as he flooded into me, thick rivers of cum knocking against my insides with such force I swore I could feel every aching pulse.
My climax hit me like a tidal wave, a huge spurt of semen arcing from my cock, splattering across my chest in hot, sticky ropes.
He pulled out with a wet schlorp, and my ass immediately began leaking and convulsing, thick streams of his cum oozing onto the tiles, mixing with the water and our sweat in a filthy little puddle.
Freya followed, pulling her fingers free with a shudder, a creamy spurt of her own release splattering behind us, adding to the obscene mess. I felt like I was melting into the floor, my body liquid and spent, every nerve singing with satisfaction.
All of us huffed together, panting like wild beasts, our breaths echoing in the steamy room.
I giggled, high and cheery, despite the exhaustion. "Gods, you’ve been holding that in for a while now, haven’t you?" I teased, running a finger through the cum on my chest and licking it off with a wink. "Bet you’ve never made a mess this fucking gorgeous before," I added, sticking out my tongue playfully.
Freya snorted, her grim facade cracking into a smirk as she slumped beside us. Atticus, still catching his breath, managed a weak chuckle, his face vulnerable yet content.
"I... I didn’t know I could..." he trailed off, dazed. "Thank you..."
I leaned over, kissing his cheek, tasting the mix of his and Freya’s cum on his soft skin. We lay there, tangled in each other, the shower spraying down, washing away the evidence but not the heat of what we’d done.