A steamy Housewarming with Zoe and Tina

Harry had been nervous all afternoon, a jittery energy that made him check the time on his phone every five minutes and pace the apartment until Samantha finally told him to stop wearing a path in the hardwood. Meeting her friends felt like a test he could fail—what if they didn't like him, what if they thought he was some weird British guy who'd manipulated their friend into moving in together after one date? But Samantha had just laughed and kissed him quickly before returning to the kitchen to prep dinner, leaving him to marinate in his anxiety.

By the time the doorbell rang at six-thirty, Harry had worked himself into a proper state of nerves. He stood in the living room while Samantha went to answer the door, his palms sweating and his heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape.

The door swung open and a woman's voice boomed through the apartment before Harry even saw her. "Sam! Oh my god, this place is so cute! And you must be the famous Harry!"

Then she was there, bursting into the living room with the **** of a small hurricane. Zoe Gilbert was shorter than Harry had expected—maybe five-foot-six—but what she lacked in height she made up for in sheer presence. Her auburn hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and she wore a form-fitting black top with a plunging neckline that revealed an absolutely staggering amount of cleavage. Harry's eyes went immediately to her chest and then widened in shock because her breasts were enormous—easily the largest he'd ever seen in person, straining against the fabric of her top in a way that seemed to defy physics.

"Hi, I'm Zoe," she said, extending her hand with a megawatt smile. "I've heard so much about you. Well, not that much since Sam's been weirdly secretive, but enough to know you're the DNA guy from Paris."

Harry shook her hand, trying desperately to keep his eyes on her face and failing spectacularly. Her breasts were right there, impossible to ignore, two massive globes of flesh that moved independently with each breath she took. He felt his face flush hot and his cock give an interested twitch in his jeans.

"Nice to meet you," Harry managed, his voice coming out slightly strangled. "Samantha's told me good things about you."

"All lies, I'm sure," Zoe replied with a wink, finally releasing his hand. She moved past him into the apartment, and Harry found himself staring at her back—or rather, at the way her breasts were visible even from behind, their mass creating curves on either side of her narrow frame.

"Harry, this is Tina," Samantha said, and Harry turned to find another woman standing in the doorway, this one holding a bottle of wine and smiling warmly.

Tina Reeves was also shorter than him, maybe the same height as Zoe, with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a simple green sweater on top, but her bottom half made Harry's brain stutter to a halt. Tight black leggings clung to her legs like a second skin, and they had some kind of textured pattern that seemed specifically designed to draw attention to what was already an incredibly impressive booty. Her ass was round and full and high, jutting out behind her in a way that made Harry think of words like "dumptruck" and "incredible" and "holy shit."

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Tina said, stepping forward to give him a quick hug. Her body was warm and soft against his, and when she pulled back, Harry caught himself staring at her ass as she turned to hand the wine to Samantha.

"Right, yeah, you too," Harry said, forcing his eyes back to face level. "Thanks for coming over."

The four of them migrated to the small dining table where Samantha had set out plates and serving dishes of pasta, salad, and garlic bread. The golden light of sunset streamed through the windows, making everything feel warm and intimate. Zoe immediately claimed the seat across from Harry, which meant he had a direct view of her cleavage throughout dinner, while Tina sat beside him, her incredible ass filling out the chair, bulging obscenely over the edge of the too-small chair, a sight that was always there just in the corner of his eye.

"So you two just moved in together after what, one date?" Zoe asked, pouring wine for everyone with liberal pours. "Very Romeo and Juliet of you. Minus the dying part, hopefully."

"It was more complicated than that," Samantha said, passing the pasta around. "Dr. Genet's research showed we're genetically perfect for each other. One hundred percent compatibility."

"Every dating app likes to claim shit like that," Zoe teased. "Though I have to admit, you two do have this weird energy together. Like you're already finishing each other's sentences and you've known each other for five minutes."

"Two months," Harry corrected. "We've been texting constantly since Paris. It's not like we're complete strangers."

"Just mostly strangers," Tina added with a gentle smile. "But sometimes that's how the best relationships start. My parents met at a bus stop and got married three months later. Thirty-two years and counting."

It was impossible not to notice them. Every time Zoe leaned forward to grab the bread basket, her cleavage deepened into a valley that seemed to go on forever. When Tina shifted in her chair, the textured pattern on her leggings drew Harry's eyes like a magnet. He tried to be subtle about his looking, tried to keep his attention on the conversation and the food, but his gaze kept drifting downward.

The third time it happened—his eyes dropping to Zoe's chest while she was telling a story about a disastrous work event—Harry caught himself and snapped his gaze back up, only to find Samantha watching him from across the table. His stomach dropped, expecting anger or hurt, but instead Samantha gave him a small nod and the faintest knowing smile.

What the fuck?

Harry's confusion must have shown on his face because Samantha leaned closer to him under the pretense of reaching for the salad bowl, and whispered directly in his ear: "I know, right? They are amazing."

Harry's brain short-circuited. He turned to stare at Samantha, trying to figure out if he'd misheard, but she just smiled at him and took a bite of pasta like she hadn't just given him permission to ogle her best friend.

The realization that Samantha wasn't jealous—that she actually seemed to approve of him looking—sent a surge of arousal through Harry's body so intense his cock hardened immediately in his jeans. He shifted in his seat, trying to adjust himself without being obvious, and nearly groaned when the movement made him brush against Tina's leg beside him.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, but Tina just laughed.

"It's fine, these chairs are tiny. We're all basically in each other's laps."

The mental image of having Tina's incredible ass in his lap made Harry's arousal worse. He reached for his wine glass and drained half of it, trying to cool down.

The sexual tension was becoming palpable, a charge in the air that seemed to intensify with each exchanged glance. Harry's cock remained stubbornly hard throughout the meal, pressing uncomfortably against his zipper. Samantha's nipples were visible through her shirt again, two points that drew Harry's gaze as much as her friends' more obvious assets.

Zoe noticed eventually, her sharp eyes catching one of their loaded looks across the table. "You two are ridiculous," she announced, refilling everyone's wine glasses. "The sexual tension is so thick I could cut it with a knife. Have you even fucked yet or are you still in the weird awkward phase?"

"Zoe!" Tina gasped, her face flushing pink. "You can't just ask people that!"

"Why not? We're all adults here," Zoe replied with a shrug that made her breasts bounce. "Besides, I'm genuinely curious. DNA compatibility is one thing, but sexual compatibility is something else entirely."

Harry felt his face burning, and beside him, Samantha had gone bright red. But there was something else in her expression too—amusement, maybe, or appreciation for Zoe's directness.

"We're taking things slow," Samantha said carefully. "Getting to know each other properly first."

"Boring," Zoe declared, but she was smiling. "Though I suppose it's sweet in a very old-fashioned way. Just don't take too long or you'll psyche yourselves out."

The conversation moved on to other topics, but Harry couldn't stop thinking about Zoe's words. Sexual compatibility. They had one hundred percent genetic compatibility, but what did that mean for sex?