Graduation Night [ m18/m19/f18/f18 ] [ orgy ] [ entitled youth ]

Let me introduce myself, I am Kyle Swanson, son of the mayor, spoiled by my families old money. Blonde, curly, shoulder length hair and blue eyes. 6’5, great physic, cut, well defined swimmers bod, captain of the diving team with a full ride scholarship to the University of Iowa.

The rest of the cast:

Jennifer Walsh (JenJen to her friends and family) Kyle’s girlfriend since grade school, parents own a local Michelin 2 Star French restaurant in town.
Petite, cheerleader blonde huge curls, the girl everyone wants, but Kyle has had for the last 7 years.

Sophie Arguello, taller and much larger boobs than JenJen. Sophie is the head cheerleader and one of two drum majorettes for the band. Her parents own one of the communities most popular Mexican restaurants and a successful food truck business, when not being the most popular girl at school, she is fucking Paul Hanson’s brains out.

Paul Hanson - his father Paul Jr. and his mother Victoria who is the disowned daughter of the state representative for this district, own Hanson’s Hardware, a local chain of stores, 5 in total. Paul is the football teams star wide receiver. A full ride scholarship recipient to the University of Iowa. Light Carmel skin with the biggest most inviting brown eyes imaginable.

While these kids come from wealthy homes and want for nothing, they are kind, socially approachable and charitable.

The house creaked in that familiar way—the old beams settling, the air heavy with June heat and history. The Swanson place had been standing for 159 years, longer than most of our town’s roads had been paved. I was born in this house, just as my dad and his dad were. I know every shadow, every groan in the walls, every draft that cut across the third floor when the wind shifted.

I stood at the dormer window of my attic apartment, bourbon in hand, still shirtless from changing out of my graduation suit. The gown lay puddled at the foot of my bed, my tie slung over the back of a velvet chair. I hadn’t showered yet—I liked the way the sweat clung to me, dried from the hours of handshakes, hugs, and a thousand flashbulbs popping. The official stuff was done. Family parties. Faculty pictures. Awards and tears.

Now it was our time.

A quick honk echoed off the circle drive below.

I leaned into the window. Sophie’s cherry red Jeep was pulling in, headlights off, tires crunching over the gravel. She stepped out first, legs for miles in white strappy heels, her tight little dress hugging every curve. Sophie Arguello didn’t walk—she commanded. Even in the heat, even after a long day of fake smiles and speeches, she looked fresh, powerful, magnetic.

JenJen followed, still my favorite sight on earth. Blonde curls bouncing, that flirty little floral romper showing just enough to tease but never more. She carried her overnight bag slung over one shoulder, chewing her lip as she looked up at the house—our house now, for the weekend. I could tell she was nervous, but excited. She always got that way before something big.

Then Paul stepped out.

He didn’t need a bag. Just had his duffel and that confident smirk. His hoodie was unzipped, his skin golden in the sunlight, abs tight, jawline sharp. I could see why people fell all over him. Hell, I’d watched it happen since seventh grade.

But tonight, he was walking into something none of us had done before.

And we were walking into it together.

I padded across the hardwood, barefoot, and buzzed them in with the wall switch. The apartment’s private entrance clicked open downstairs. Then I poured myself another bourbon and waited for the night to begin.

Strip Poker and Truth or Dare.

We didn’t waste time. Sophie set up the poker blanket on the floor between the velvet loveseat and my bed. JenJen queued up music—something low and slow, heavy with bass and suggestion. Paul brought up a six-pack and a bottle of fireball someone had gifted him as a joke. The attic smelled like cinnamon, weed, and lust.

I’d barely finished my second drink before Sophie dealt the first hand.

JenJen sat beside her, knees tucked up, giggling every time she lost a round. Paul sprawled on the floor like he owned it. And me? I was already shirtless, sitting against my bed frame, watching the others unravel.

Sophie always won. Of course she did. Her poker face was brutal, her instincts sharp. And when she smiled and said, “Losers strip,” we didn’t even question it.

One by one, we peeled ourselves open like ripe fruit.

First came socks. Then shirts. Then belts, undone just slow enough to make us look.

And then she raised the stakes.

Sophie unzipped a black case from her bag and spread it open in the center of the blanket like a prize. A silk blindfold. Leather cuffs. A vibrating ring. A glass toy that shimmered under the attic lights.

“Winner gets to use one,” she said, casually, like we were talking about party favors.

JenJen shifted beside her, biting her bottom lip.

I caught her eye.

She didn’t look away.

First Strip, First Kiss.

Paul lost the next hand and groaned. “Fuck it. I’m out.”

“Strip,” Sophie said with a glint in her eye.

He yanked his hoodie over his head, tossing it beside the couch like it was nothing. His chest was smooth, lean, carved like he lived in a gym—which he pretty much did. JenJen gave the softest, sweetest little gasp and then blushed like crazy when she realized everyone heard it.

Sophie watched him like he was a dessert she hadn’t decided how to eat yet.

Then she flipped a new card onto the blanket and said, “Loser’s choice, but I pick the dare.”

JenJen tensed. “Wait, I thought strip poker was the game.”

Sophie turned toward her, full predatory smile in place. “That was just foreplay.”

She slid her hand over Jen’s knee, slow and warm. My girlfriend didn’t pull away.

“Truth or dare, baby blonde?”

JenJen looked at me. Not scared—just checking.

I didn’t say a word.

“…Dare,” she whispered.

Sophie’s smile widened. “Kiss me.”

The room went still.

JenJen moved forward slowly. I watched her crawl—watched the way the romper rode up, the soft flex of her thighs, the way her breath quickened. She paused, barely inches from Sophie.

And then she kissed her.

I expected soft. Sweet. Hesitant.

What I got was heat.

Jen’s fingers curled on Sophie’s legs. Sophie grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss until I saw JenJen melt into her like she was made for it.

When they finally broke apart, Jen was flushed and panting, eyes dazed. Sophie leaned back, looking completely unbothered, as if she’d just claimed her prize and was ready for the next round.

I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped breathing.

But I knew one thing for sure.

I wanted in.

Dare Me.

JenJen was still catching her breath when Sophie turned to me.

Her eyes had that glint—like she’d been waiting all night for her turn to play me.

“Well, golden boy,” she purred, drawing out the words like warm syrup. “You’ve been watching long enough.”

I raised my brows. “And?”

“And now it’s your turn.”

Paul chuckled beside me, half-dressed and leaning back on one elbow, abs catching the glow of the pendant light overhead. JenJen was curled into the crook of Sophie’s arm now, flushed and buzzing.

I set my drink down on the floor. “Alright. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Sophie said instantly. “Always dare with you.”

She glanced at Paul. Then at me. Her tongue flicked along her bottom lip.

“Kiss him.”

The air in the apartment tightened.

Paul raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

JenJen looked between us. Curious. Silent. But not surprised.

She knew. Maybe not the details. But she knew.

I sat forward, slow and deliberate, and crawled across the poker blanket.

Paul didn’t move. Just waited, watching me come closer, his breathing steady. I remembered this—us. Quiet locker rooms. Two a.m. basement secrets. The slow discovery of our bodies when we were sixteen and everything was new and raw and urgent.

We never talked about it. Never had to. We just… knew.

When I reached him, I straddled his lap without asking. My knees hit the blanket on either side of his hips, my hands on his chest, warm skin under my palms.

His breath hitched.

And then I kissed him.

Not a joke kiss. Not a dare kiss. Not tonight.

I kissed him like we’d never stopped. Like two years of pretending it hadn’t happened didn’t matter. His mouth opened for me, and we fell back into rhythm like no time had passed at all.

His hands slid up my sides. My fingers tangled in the short curls at the base of his neck. I bit his bottom lip, just a little, and he groaned against my tongue.

I heard JenJen gasp.

Sophie didn’t say a word.

When we pulled apart, Paul’s eyes were dark. His breath ragged. And I was hard as hell.

“Shit,” he whispered, just for me.

I smirked and climbed off his lap, grabbing my drink again like it was just another round.

But it wasn’t.

Nothing about tonight was just another anything.

We were all in now.

Sophie’s Game Escalates.

I didn’t sit down right away. I stood near the foot of the bed, letting the heat cool on my skin, letting them look.

JenJen’s eyes stayed locked on mine. She hadn’t blinked during the kiss. She hadn’t squirmed. She’d watched it—watched me—with fascination and hunger. Her bottom lip was pinched between her teeth now, her fingers idly twisting the hem of her romper like she didn’t trust herself to keep still.

Paul was still catching his breath, leaning back on his elbows like I’d knocked the wind out of him.

And Sophie—Sophie was in full command.

She rose to her knees with the grace of a queen claiming her court, reaching for the black zippered toy case again. Her fingers grazed the silk blindfold, then moved past it, choosing instead the padded leather cuffs.

“Let’s try something more fun,” she said.

She held them up for all of us to see—thick black leather with silver clasps that clicked softly as she opened them.

“Volunteers?” she teased, tilting her head.

JenJen looked like she wanted to say yes but didn’t know how. Her legs were tucked under her, back straight, breath shallow.

Sophie didn’t wait for her to speak.

“Jen,” she said gently, “come here.”

JenJen crawled toward her, slow but obedient, until she was kneeling between Sophie’s legs. Sophie reached forward, brushing a curl from Jen’s cheek.

“You trust me?”

JenJen nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good girl.”

Sophie guided her arms forward and buckled the cuffs around her wrists. Not tight, not rough—but firm enough to make Jen’s eyes go wide.

I stepped closer, crouching beside them. My hand found JenJen’s knee, grounding her.

Sophie looked at me. “She’s okay.”

I nodded. “I know. Just… watching.”

Sophie leaned in and whispered something into Jen’s ear that made her shiver.

Then she turned her toward Paul.

“Sit back,” she told him.

Paul obeyed, still shirtless, legs spread slightly, chest rising and falling.

Sophie guided Jen forward between his knees, hands bound, body lowered.

“Show him what that mouth can do, sweetheart.”

JenJen looked up at me one more time.

And I gave her a nod.

She leaned in—and took Paul into her mouth.

He exhaled sharply, hands digging into the rug. Her rhythm was awkward for only a moment, and then instinct took over. I watched her confidence build with every inch she took, every moan Paul couldn’t hold back.

Sophie knelt behind her, one hand on her back, whispering encouragement into her ear. Jen whimpered softly and deepened the rhythm.

I adjusted my waistband, my cock straining, my pulse pounding like I’d just come out of a dive.

Watching her like that—open, bound, guided by Sophie, sucking Paul off like it was the most natural thing in the world—I knew there was no going back.

We weren’t pretending anymore.

JenJen moaned around Paul’s cock, soft and high and wet.

The cuffs jingled faintly with every movement of her arms—bound in front of her, resting on his thighs as she bobbed her head. Her hips moved unconsciously, rhythm syncing with the slow, lewd suck of her mouth. Sophie knelt behind her, one hand flat on Jen’s lower back, the other gently threading through those golden curls, guiding her just enough to remind her who was in control.

And fuck—she loved it.

I could see it in the way her eyes fluttered half shut. In the way she moaned each time Paul groaned, rewarding her with his hand tightening in the blanket or his hips subtly pushing up to meet her.

I moved closer. I couldn’t not.

Paul looked up at me—his pupils were blown, mouth slack. His chest rose and fell like he’d just finished a sprint. “She’s fucking incredible, man,” he breathed. “You—fuck—she knows exactly how to…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. JenJen had just slid her mouth down deep, and whatever thought he had evaporated with the sound that broke out of his throat.

I knelt beside her, running my fingers gently down her spine, just light enough to make her tremble. She looked up at me from Paul’s lap, lips stretched wide around his shaft, and the sight punched the air out of my lungs.

I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You’re so fucking sexy like this, baby.”

She whimpered and took him deeper.

“Come here,” Sophie murmured, reaching for my waistband. She unbuttoned my shorts and slid them down, then freed my cock with a practiced, hungry motion. I sucked in a breath as her lips wrapped around the tip—hot, slick, intentional. She moaned against me, one hand cupping my balls, the other still resting on Jen’s back as if she could pleasure us both by sheer force of will.

I ran my fingers through Sophie’s dark curls as she sucked me in deep, lips tight, tongue teasing just beneath the head. She had rhythm, purpose, like she was showing off and didn’t care who saw it.

JenJen kept working Paul, slower now, more deliberate—savoring it, eyes fluttering closed every time he groaned. Her hands stayed bound, her chest rising and falling fast beneath the thin fabric of her romper. I wanted to strip it off her, watch her tits bounce as she swallowed Paul’s cock—but not yet. Watching her serve like this, watching her offer herself—it was hotter than I ever imagined.

Sophie pulled off me with a wet pop and looked up.

“Switch,” she said.

JenJen blinked. Sophie reached down, unbuckled her cuffs, and gave her a little tap on the ass. “On your back, sweetheart. You’ve earned it.”

Jen obeyed instantly, lying on the rug and spreading her legs just enough for her thighs to frame the hem of her romper. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, chest heaving.

I dropped to my knees between her legs.

“Can I?” I asked, fingers brushing the edge of the fabric.

She nodded, breathless. “Please.”

I peeled the romper down, slow—watched it reveal smooth thighs, trembling hips, bare heat already glistening. No panties. She’d planned this. My cock throbbed at the sight.

I leaned in and tasted her.

She cried out, one hand flying to my hair, the other gripping Sophie’s thigh where she knelt beside us. Her pussy was soaked, sweet and slick and ready. I licked slow at first—long, deliberate strokes of my tongue from clit to entrance—then faster, circling and teasing until her hips began to lift off the floor.

Paul hovered beside us now, watching her unravel under my mouth.

“She’s gorgeous like this,” he murmured.

Sophie smiled, then kissed him—hard, wet, deep—before reaching between his legs to stroke his cock again.

JenJen’s thighs began to tremble. “Kyle—baby—I’m gonna—”

I didn’t stop. I pressed my tongue tighter, sucked her clit between my lips, and pushed two fingers inside her—curling just right until her whole body arched.

She came with a gasp that turned into a whimper, thighs squeezing around my head, toes curling hard into the blanket.

And I kept going. Kept licking until she was twitching, oversensitive, begging me to stop with a breathless, “Fuck, fuck, okay, I’m done—”

I pulled back, wiped my mouth, and kissed her thigh.

Sophie was on her feet, pulling her dress over her head in one smooth motion. No bra. No hesitation. Just soft curves and dark skin, nipples already hard.

“Your turn,” she said to Paul, pointing at her pussy. “I want your tongue on me while Kyle fucks his girl.”

I looked down at JenJen—flushed, wrecked, glowing.

She looked up at me like I was everything she wanted.

JenJen was still spread out on the blanket beneath me—hair wild, lips kiss-swollen, eyes half-lidded and glittering with bliss. Her chest rose and fell in uneven little huffs, her legs open wide in invitation, her soaked pussy still twitching from the orgasm I’d just given her.

She looked wrecked.

She looked perfect.

I slid up between her thighs, guiding my cock against her slick folds, pressing the head right where she was warm and throbbing and wet for me.

“You ready, baby?” I whispered, brushing her cheek.

She nodded, moaned, “Yes… please… I want you in me.”

I pushed forward.

Her heat swallowed me in one long, wet slide, and we both gasped. Her legs wrapped around my waist instinctively, heels hooking behind my ass as I sank in deeper. Her pussy gripped me tight, pulsing with aftershocks of the orgasm she hadn’t fully come down from.

I braced myself on either side of her, watching her face as I started to thrust. Slow, steady at first. Letting her feel every inch.

“God, Kyle,” she whimpered. “You feel so good…”

Her hands clutched at my shoulders, nails digging in. I dropped my forehead to hers, kissed her nose, her lips, the sweet curve of her jaw as I began to move harder. Her moans grew louder, higher, matching the rhythm of my hips slapping into her—slick, wet, relentless.

I felt her tighten again.

Her pussy clamped down around me, body arching, mouth falling open in a ragged cry as she came again, trembling underneath me like she was unraveling from the inside out.

That did it.

My thrusts got faster, rougher, and I buried myself deep one last time before the orgasm hit—hot, electric, explosive. I growled against her neck as I pumped her full, every muscle locking tight while I emptied inside her.

We stayed like that for a beat. Breathing each other in. Her legs still wrapped around me, my cock twitching inside her, the warmth of her body anchoring me.

And then Sophie slid in.

She knelt between Jen’s legs like a lover returning home, her hands spreading Jen open gently, mouth hovering over the mess I’d left inside her.

“You two are filthy,” she said with a wicked little grin.

And then she leaned in.

Her tongue lapped slowly at JenJen’s swollen folds—cleaning her, tasting both of us. Jen cried out, hips twitching, hands flailing against the blanket. Sophie moaned into her, arms wrapping around Jen’s thighs to hold her steady as she licked deep, hungry and possessive, like she was reclaiming her.

I sat back to watch, stroking my cock, still wet and half-hard. Paul moved beside me, his cock already rigid again, his eyes locked on Sophie like he was watching a goddess at work.

And then Sophie looked up at us—her mouth shiny, her cheeks flushed—and said, “Help me.”

She stretched out on the blanket, her curves inviting, legs open, her dark nipples taut and begging.

Paul crawled up between her thighs while I moved to her side.

He started at her pussy—his hands spreading her, tongue working in slow, firm strokes as he groaned against her heat.

I focused on her tits.

They were full, soft, heavy in my hands. Her areolas were wide and dark and beautiful, her nipples stiff and impossibly sensitive. I kissed them, sucked each one in turn, flicking with my tongue, biting just enough to make her arch.

Sophie gasped, tangled her fingers in my hair, and rocked her hips into Paul’s mouth.

“God… yes… right there…”

Paul was eating her like a man possessed, tongue teasing her clit, then circling lower—probing gently at her tight, pink little star.

I watched her face as he pushed his tongue against it.

She moaned, long and deep, her thighs trembling as she let him in.

“Fuck, Paul,” she hissed. “More…”

Her body opened to him, ass flexing, hips tilting up in offering. And I saw it in her eyes—the trust, the thrill, the hunger to be taken.

I sucked one nipple hard, then moved to the other, dragging my teeth just enough to make her gasp.

Paul slid one slick finger beside his tongue, easing it into her tight little hole.

Sophie shuddered.

I moved my mouth to hers, kissed her deep, swallowed her moan.

She was ready.

Sophie’s body writhed beneath us—her back arched, her hands gripping the rug, her moans constant and ragged. She was already a dripping mess between her thighs from Paul’s tongue, her tight little hole slick and stretched from his fingers. Her nipples were red and swollen from my mouth. And her eyes… her eyes were locked on JenJen.

My girl crawled over her, lips parted, eyes hungry. She’d never kissed another girl before tonight. Now she couldn’t stop.

Sophie met her halfway. Their mouths crashed like magnets—sloppy, deep, eager. Tongues tangling. Sophie moaned into Jen’s mouth as Paul lined himself up behind her, spreading her cheeks.

I knelt between her thighs, my cock hard again, glistening with her arousal. I nudged against her entrance and eased in slowly.

Sophie’s moan turned into a whimper.

“More,” she begged. “Both of you.”

Paul spat in his hand, rubbed it over his cock, and guided the tip to her ass. She exhaled sharply, shivered.

“Go slow,” I told him, locking eyes with her. “She’s ready, but still…”

Paul nodded. “I got her.”

I held her hips steady as he pressed forward.

The resistance was tight, her body trembling under the pressure—and then she opened.

The sound she made was filthy. Shattered. Gorgeous.

“Oh fuck,” she sobbed, “you’re both… in…”

We paused, giving her a second to adjust—me buried in her pussy, Paul buried in her ass. Her body was so full, so tight, wrapped around both of us like a glove.

JenJen kissed her again, swallowing her sounds as Sophie rocked gently between us.

And then we started to move.

Slow at first—careful, controlled. Paul and I synced up instinctively, alternating strokes so Sophie never felt empty, never got a moment’s break. Her cries grew louder, breath catching every time we bottomed out. JenJen was on her knees beside her, kissing her, stroking her breasts, whispering encouragement between kisses.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” I growled, one hand tangled in Sophie’s hair. “Taking both of us like you need it…”

“I do,” she whimpered. “I fucking need it—don’t stop—don’t—”

We didn’t.

Paul grunted, fucking harder, hips slapping against her ass. I met him stroke for stroke, our cocks rubbing through the thin wall inside her. Sophie screamed through another orgasm—legs shaking, body locking, her pussy clenching so hard around me I nearly lost it.

“Gonna cum,” Paul groaned, sweat dripping down his back.

“Me too,” I gasped.

“Do it,” Sophie begged. “Fucking fill me.”

And we did.

Paul buried himself deep, shuddering as he spilled into her tight ass. I followed seconds later, hips jerking, cock pulsing, unloading every last drop into her spasming cunt.

She collapsed, boneless and shaking, her body soaked in sweat and cum and kisses.

JenJen wrapped her arms around her and held her as we slowly pulled out, both of us breathless and spent.

The room was thick with heat. With sex. With something bigger than all of us.

We didn’t say anything at first.

There wasn’t anything that needed to be said.

My attic apartment, courtesy of my parents-had three bedrooms. Sophie and Paul disappeared into the guest suite—her arm draped around his waist, his fingers tangled in her hair, both of them whispering and laughing as the door shut behind them.

I led JenJen into the master.

This was far from JenJen’s first time here, it smelled like us already. Sex and bourbon and her vanilla perfume. I shut the door gently, then turned to her.

She was wearing one of my t-shirts—oversized and slouching off her shoulder. Her curls were damp around her face. Her eyes were soft.

I pulled her into bed and wrapped her up in the covers, my hand on her thigh, her cheek resting against my chest.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.

She nodded, then lifted her head. “That was… insane.”

“Too much?”

She shook her head. “No. Just… new. But not wrong. Not with you.”

I kissed her forehead. “Good. I didn’t want to lose us.”

She smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “You didn’t.”

We lay there in the hush of old wood and summer air, her fingers drawing circles on my stomach.

Somewhere across the hall, we heard a giggle and the low creak of Sophie’s bed springs.

I smiled into the dark.

We’d crossed every line.

But none of us had broken.

The attic apartment was quiet.

Early light filtered through the angled windows, dust hanging in golden shafts that cut across the hardwood floor. The air was warm but calm—no music, no laughter, no wet gasps echoing off the walls. Just birds outside, the faint hum of the A/C, and JenJen’s slow breathing as she lay curled against my chest.

She was still wearing my T-shirt, her leg thrown across my thigh, her skin soft and warm in the sheets. I stroked her back, lazy and slow, fingers tracing the curve of her spine.

Last night felt like a dream—raw, wild, filthy in the best way—but this?

This was the part I needed.

She stirred, stretching like a cat before lifting her head and blinking up at me.

“Morning,” she whispered, her voice raspy and sweet.

I leaned down and kissed her. “Hi.”

She kissed me back, deeper this time, fingers brushing my jaw.

“Do I smell like three orgasms and girl-on-girl sweat?” she murmured against my mouth.

I grinned. “You smell like heaven. But yeah… we need a shower.”

She smiled, eyes still half-closed. “Take me.”

I scooped her up bridal-style and carried her into the bathroom, both of us laughing softly as she buried her face in my neck.

The water steamed up fast, hot and clean. I set her down gently in the glass shower and stepped in after her. The water hit us both at once, soaking my hair, plastering her curls to her neck.

I reached for the body wash and poured a thick, creamy stream into my palm, then began to lather her up—slowly, reverently.

Her eyes fluttered shut as I soaped her chest, lifting each breast, massaging gently. She leaned into me, arms around my waist, her body melting into mine.

“You’re so good to me,” she whispered.

“You deserve it,” I said, kissing her temple.

She looked up at me, wet and shining and vulnerable. “Make love to me.”

I pressed her gently against the tiled wall, one hand guiding her thigh up around my hip, the other cradling her face as I slid inside her—slow, smooth, deep.

She gasped, then moaned into my mouth as I kissed her.

It wasn’t like last night.

It was soft. Slow. Every thrust measured, deliberate, more about closeness than frenzy. The slick heat of the water poured down around us as I moved in her, her body clinging to mine, her fingers gripping my back.

“I love you,” she whispered, voice trembling as she came.

I held her through it, still inside her, forehead pressed to hers, hips rocking gently as my own orgasm built—inevitable, sweet, overwhelming.

I came with a shuddering breath, holding her tight, pouring everything I had into her as she moaned my name.

When we finally washed off, she stayed close, arms wrapped around me under the stream, our bodies clean and tangled.

Whatever lines we’d crossed last night, this—this—was still ours.

POV: Sophie Arguello

The light was already soft and golden when I opened my eyes.

I was lying on my side, tucked against the warm wall of Paul’s chest. His arm was around my waist, one hand resting on my stomach, his breath slow and deep against the back of my neck.

The sheets smelled like sweat, sex, and him—woodsy and warm and faintly citrus from the body wash he kept in his gym bag. My thighs were sticky. My muscles ached in all the best ways. And somewhere deep inside me, I still felt the echo of both Kyle and Paul from last night.

But this?

This was the part I loved.

The after.

He stirred behind me, groaning softly as he stretched, his arm tightening around me like he thought I might disappear.

“You awake?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“Barely,” he murmured. “But I’m hard.”

I smiled. “Of course you are.”

He pressed forward, and I felt it—his cock sliding between my cheeks, thick and lazy, already twitching with morning heat.

“We should shower,” I said.

“We should fuck first.”

I rolled onto my back and looked up at him.

“No,” I said, grinning. “We should fuck in the shower.”

The guest suite’s bathroom was smaller than Kyle’s, but it had a beautiful stone-tiled walk-in shower with dual heads. Paul turned them both on while I leaned against the doorframe, watching the muscles in his back flex. God, he was sexy in the mornings. Sleep-rough and warm, hair a little messy, body still humming with whatever sinful energy we’d soaked in the night before.

I stepped in and pulled him under the water with me.

He kissed me first. Slow and tender, his hands cupping my face like I was fragile even though I’d just taken two cocks at once ten hours ago.

I moaned into his mouth, tilting my hips toward him.

He ran his fingers down my sides, then cupped my ass, lifting me like I weighed nothing and pinning me gently against the slick tile wall.

I wrapped my legs around him, our wet bodies sliding together perfectly, and he slid into me with a single, fluid thrust.

I gasped.

“Still sore?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.

“A little,” I whispered. “But I love it.”

He kissed me again—deeper this time—and started moving inside me.

We didn’t rush. His hands cradled my thighs. Mine tangled in his damp curls. Every thrust was deep and careful, each one pressing exactly where I needed him. I held on, moaning into his shoulder, letting the water wash over us both as I came again, soft and slow, my whole body shaking with the aftershock.

He followed with a groan, his body tensing as he filled me again.

We stayed like that until the water ran cool—foreheads touching, breath mingling, his arms never letting go.

I knew we’d go to different dorms in the fall. Different majors, different schedules. But we’d have the house. We’d have them.

And we’d always have this.

POV: Kyle Swanson

I was already pouring the coffee when Paul and Sophie swaggered into the kitchen.

She was in a black crop hoodie and tight sleep shorts, her hair still damp from the shower. Paul wore mesh shorts, no shirt, and the most satisfied grin I’d ever seen on his face. JenJen sat on the island stool beside me, cross-legged in one of my oversized flannels, sipping from the mug I’d handed her.

“Morning, sinners,” Sophie said, stretching like a cat as she grabbed a mug.

“Morning, exhibitionists,” I shot back.

Paul chuckled and leaned over the counter to steal a strip of bacon from the plate I’d just finished. “If anyone’s judging, it better come with more eggs.”

I flipped another batch in the skillet while JenJen smiled into her cup, cheeks pink. She hadn’t stopped smiling since I’d carried her out of the shower.

Sophie plopped down beside her, their shoulders brushing as they leaned together like best friends who’d known each other for years—when in reality, last night had pushed them into something new. Something unspoken but permanent.

“So…” Paul said, stretching out on the stool next to me. “Are we going to pretend last night was a fluke? Or are we going to be honest and admit that was probably the most incredible thing we’ve ever done?”

JenJen met my eyes. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close.

“Not a fluke,” I said. “But not something we need to label either.”

Sophie nodded. “It was exactly what it needed to be.”

There was a moment of quiet while the eggs sizzled.

Then Paul said, “Okay, but speaking of not flukes—are we all still good on the house?”

I grinned. “Signed and sealed. Five blocks from the union. Four bedrooms, two and a half baths, full basement, backyard firepit. All four of us, one roof.”

JenJen beamed. “And no rent. No bills. Our parents went all in.”

Sophie raised her mug. “To guilt-fueled parental investment and absurd privilege.”

We all clinked mugs.

“I still can’t believe it’s real,” Paul said. “We’re literally moving in the week before classes start. All expenses covered until graduation?”

“Fully paid,” I confirmed. “Utilities, furniture, even groceries the first semester. They wanted us ‘focused on academics.’”

Sophie snorted. “Yeah. Academics.”

JenJen grinned. “I mean… we’ll definitely be studying something.”

We all laughed, the kind that leaves your ribs sore. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t weird. It was… right. Like this was always where we were heading, and last night just got us there faster.

I looked around the kitchen—at Sophie curled into Paul, at JenJen warm against me—and felt it click into place.

This wasn’t just the end of high school.

It was the beginning of everything.

Please comment and like to let me know how you feel about this. Positive response generates future installments.