Path 3 – Rebecca Keagan / The Proposition Route** **New Branch – The Blind Woman, the Payment & the Pregnant Dream** **Route 2 – Bill Notices / Thigh-Fucking in the Dark** *(BlacknWhite Continuum – Campus Authority District)*

**Path 3 – Rebecca Keagan / The Proposition Route** **New Branch – The Blind Woman, the Payment & the Pregnant Dream** **Route 2 – Bill Notices / Thigh-Fucking in the Dark** *(BlacknWhite Continuum – Campus Authority District)*

The phone stopped vibrating.

Rebecca set it face-down on the nightstand without answering. Taylor’s name still glowed for a second before the screen went black. Her heart was still racing from the dream. The phantom weight of a pregnant belly, the thick stretch of Taylor’s cock, the filthy words he had spoken while he filled her—everything lingered in her body like a second heartbeat.

She was soaked.

The thin cotton panties she had pulled on after cleaning up earlier were clinging to her, the fabric dark and slick between her thighs. Every small shift of her legs sent a fresh smear of wetness along her skin. The dream had left her aching, open, and frustratingly empty.

Beside her, Bill stirred again.

“Everything okay?” His voice was rough with sleep.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Wrong number. Go back to sleep.”

He didn’t.

Bill rolled onto his side, facing her. One heavy arm draped across her waist. His hand slid down almost absently, palm resting on the soft lower curve of her stomach, then lower still. When his fingers brushed the damp cotton between her legs he went still.

Rebecca held her breath.

Bill’s hand pressed more firmly, cupping her pussy through the soaked panties. He could feel the heat, the wetness, the way the fabric stuck to her lips. A low, surprised sound left his throat.

“You’re dripping,” he murmured.

Rebecca’s face burned in the dark. “I… had a dream.”

“Must’ve been a good one.” His fingers rubbed slowly, feeling how slick she was. “You’re never this wet for me.”

The words landed heavier than he probably intended. Rebecca stayed silent. Bill’s cock was already hardening against her hip—familiar, average, nowhere near the thick stretch that still haunted her body from the dream and from every real session with Taylor. He had never made her come the way Taylor did. Not once in fourteen years of marriage. She had faked it more times than she could count. He had never seemed to notice.

Tonight he noticed the wetness.

Bill hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and tugged them down. Rebecca lifted her hips automatically, still half-trapped in the leftover haze of the dream. The cool air hit her bare, soaked pussy. Bill’s hand returned, two fingers sliding through the slick folds, gathering the wetness, spreading it.

“Jesus, Rebecca…”

He shifted closer, pushing his sweatpants down just far enough to free himself. His cock—warm, hard, but distinctly smaller than what her body now craved—nudged against the inside of her thigh. Instead of pushing between her lips he stayed there, thrusting slowly along the slick channel of her closed thighs.

Rebecca kept her legs together. The friction was gentle, almost polite. Bill’s cock slid back and forth through the copious wetness the dream (and Taylor) had left behind. Each stroke smeared her juices along his shaft and the soft skin of her inner thighs. He groaned quietly against her shoulder, hips moving in short, eager thrusts.

“You’re so wet… fuck, you feel good like this.”

Rebecca stared at the dark ceiling, feeling every pass of his smaller cock between her thighs. It was warm. It was familiar. It was nowhere near enough. The contrast with the dream was almost painful. In the dream Taylor had stretched her open, filled her until she felt it in her stomach, flooded her until she leaked. Bill’s cock simply glided through the mess, never even trying to enter her.

She stayed still and let him use her thighs.

Bill’s breathing grew heavier. His hand returned to her breast, squeezing through the thin tank top, thumb brushing the nipple. He thrust faster, the wet sound of his cock sliding between her slick thighs soft but unmistakable in the quiet bedroom. Rebecca’s own arousal was still high from the dream; every drag of his shaft against her puffy outer lips sent small sparks through her, but never enough to push her over. She knew it wouldn’t. It never had.

“I’ve got you,” Bill whispered, almost tender. “Just like this… right here…”

He came with a muffled groan, hips pressing tight against her ass as he pulsed between her thighs. Warm spurts painted the soft skin of her inner legs and the folds of her pussy without ever going inside. Rebecca felt every small twitch of his orgasm, the modest volume of it, the way it mixed with her own wetness and the leftover memory of Taylor’s much heavier loads.

Bill stayed pressed against her for a long moment, breathing hard, cock slowly softening between her thighs. Then he pressed a sleepy kiss to the back of her shoulder, pulled her panties back up (now even wetter), and settled behind her with an arm around her waist.

“Love you,” he mumbled, already drifting off again.

“Love you too,” Rebecca whispered.

She waited until his breathing evened out into sleep before she opened her eyes again. The phone still sat on the nightstand. Taylor’s video was still only a few taps away. Between her thighs Bill’s cum cooled sticky and thin against skin that still remembered being stretched and filled by someone else.

Rebecca slipped one hand back down, under the waistband of her panties, and touched the mess Bill had left. Her fingers came away slick. She rubbed slow circles over her clit, eyes half-closed, and let the dream rise again—Taylor’s voice, the heavy pregnant belly, the thick cock splitting her open while she begged for more.

She came quietly, biting her lip, thighs trembling under the covers while her husband slept on beside her, completely unaware that the wetness he had just fucked was never really for him.

Outside, the night was still.

Inside the Keagan bedroom, the Proposition Route had followed her all the way into the marriage bed.

And the phone on the nightstand stayed silent only for now.

Branch choices now available:

1. The next morning – Rebecca showers, finds fresh marks from the previous real session, and receives a new text from Taylor.

2. Bill wakes up fully and wants more; Rebecca has to navigate the difference in size and stamina.

3. The old woman is still in the house; Rebecca has to hide the evidence of both the dream and the real sessions.

4. Rebecca answers Taylor’s earlier call and agrees to another session the same day.

Tell me which branch you want expanded next.