Indeed It Is

The next two days settled into a rhythm that felt almost dangerously perfect.

Mornings were the same old shit. Alarm blaring, dragging myself out of bed, scarfing down breakfast while Dad gave me the usual “stay out of trouble” look. School was still a drag — teachers droning on, mediocre grades hanging by a thread, and the constant low-level anxiety of running into someone who might cause drama. But now I had something to look forward to every single afternoon.

Ricole was waiting for me behind the gym like clockwork.

Day one she dropped to her knees the second the storeroom door locked, those massive tits already out as she gave me another mind-melting titfuck-blowjob combo. Her pink hair bobbed as she worked me over, moaning like sucking my cock was her new favorite hobby. I painted her chest again and sent her on her way with a satisfied smirk.

Day two I bent her over a stack of mats and fucked her from behind, hard and deep, her thick ass rippling with every thrust while she moaned loud enough I had to cover her mouth. She came twice before I filled her up, then casually cleaned me off with her mouth like it was the most normal after-school activity in the world.

“Same time tomorrow?” she’d ask every time, fixing her hair and flashing that lopsided grin before slipping out.

Then I’d head home.

Sarah was always there, fresh from her shower, towel dropping the second I walked into my room. She’d push me onto the bed or drop to her knees and give me the best blowjob of the day — slow and teasing or hungry and sloppy depending on her mood. She always swallowed, always looked refreshed afterward, and always acted like it was just another part of her normal routine.

“God, I needed that,” she’d sigh, wiping her lips and pulling her clothes back on. “You’re way less grumpy lately, you know that?”

Evenings were almost wholesome by comparison. Dad would get home, we’d throw together dinner — mac & cheese again one night, actual grilled chicken and veggies the next — and the three of us would sit around the table talking about nothing important. Sarah and I would trade sarcastic jabs while Dad pretended not to notice the weird tension. If only he knew.

Then, every night before bed, Sarah would come to my room, wrap her arms around my neck, and kiss me like she needed it to breathe. Deep, passionate makeouts that left both of us flushed and breathing hard. Sometimes her hands would wander, sometimes mine would squeeze her ass, but we always stopped there. She’d pull away with a dreamy smile, whisper “Night, Ward,” and head to the guest room.

Raine was still gone. Four more days until she was back. Plenty of time to come up with something really nasty for her. I spent the quiet moments between rounds with Ricole and Sarah brainstorming — maybe corner her in the principal’s office, or turn her into the school’s new eager slut. The ideas were getting darker and hotter by the hour.

On the second night, I was lying in bed, replaying the feeling of Ricole’s tight pussy clenching around me while Sarah’s fresh taste still lingered on my tongue. I was just about to drift off when my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I grabbed it and squinted at the screen.

Sai Venkajay: Yo Ward. Poker Night tomorrow after school at my place. The gang’s all coming. Be there or be square. Bring snacks if you’re not broke lol

A slow grin spread across my face.

Ah, Poker Night. The time had come.

I typed back a quick “Fuck yeah” and set the phone down.