Three women who are in a hurry to get inside

Not one set, multiple. Quick, purposeful steps echoing down the corridor.

Jaden eased up just enough to peek around the edge of the shelf.

Three women, he couldn’t tell for sure in the dim hall light. All wearing long trench coats buttoned to the neck, surgical masks pulled up over their noses and mouths. They moved like they’d done this a dozen times: no hesitation, no looking around. One of them with black hair and brownish skin knocked once on the club door. It opened from inside almost immediately. Zack’s smirking face appeared for a split second, then the women filed in, coats swishing. The door shut behind them with a soft click.

Jaden’s heart slammed against his ribs.

Who the fuck were they? Faculty? Random women off the street? And why the masks, the coats, like they were hiding something?

His mind raced with every possibility, he had a feeling, a bad feeling about this. He told himself he was being ridiculous. Then he told himself he wasn’t.

He waited another ten minutes. No more footsteps. No security patrol. Just the low hum of the library’s air conditioning and his own breathing.

Time to move.

He crept to the door, tried the handle. Locked. Of course.

But right above the doorframe, off to the left, maybe eight feet up, there was a rectangular ventilation window, old-school, the kind that tilted inward for air flow. It was open a crack, probably for circulation since the room didn’t have proper vents. If he could get high enough…

Jaden scanned the shelves. The one directly below the window was packed with oversized art books, perfect! He started pulling books out carefully, stacking them on the floor so they wouldn’t crash. One by one. Soon the space where the books had been made a makeshift ladder for him to climb on.

He tested it with one foot. Solid. Then both. He climbed, slow, gripping the shelf edges, until his head was level with the window.

He leaned in, peered through the narrow gap.

And nearly fell right then.

Inside, the “comic book club” space had been transformed.

Three women, no longer wearing masks or coats, stood in the center of the room under the warm glow of desk lamps and string lights someone had strung up. Their bodies were fucking unreal: full, curvy, impossibly toned for women who had to be in their forties. And the outfits…

Colorful and Skimpy.

One wore a glossy black latex catsuit with a plunging V that barely contained her massive breasts, silver chains dangling between them, a half-cowl mask pushed up on her forehead. Another was in a teal-and-gold micro-bikini, sheer cape fluttering behind her with gemstones embroidered on it, glittering against her cinnamon skin. The third was wearing an impossibly tight silver bodysuit and had red-and-gold, lightning-bolt pasties over her nipples and red thigh-high boots. She knelt between Zack’s legs, head bobbing rhythmically while he lounged back in a chair, smirking.

The other two women were busy too: one straddling Marcus’s lap, grinding slow and deliberate, her hands braced on his shoulders; the other on all fours in front of Devon, ass high, back arched as he gripped her hips and thrust hard enough to make her breasts swing.

Moans. Wet sounds. Low, filthy encouragement from the guys were sounds he could make out.

“Fuck yeah, Qui..… take it deeper…”

“That’s it, …soon… show me how much you love serving your boys…”

Jaden’s cock twitched hard in his jeans before his brain even caught up. His hand was already reaching for his phone, record this, holy shit, record this his mind seemed to yell when something clamped around his ankle.

It yanked him down.

He lost his balance. Crashing into the stack of books below. He flailed, phone flying, body twisting mid-air.

He hit the floor on his back with a heavy thud that knocked the wind out of him.

Stars burst across his vision.

A shadow loomed over him, tall, feminine, heels clicking closer.

He blinked up, gasping.

And saw her.

Dr. Elena Moreno.

But it wasn’t the stoic principal Jaden was used to seeing, the one who lectured assemblies in crisp blazers, who signed off on detention slips with a flick of her pen, who looked at students like they were mildly disappointing at all times. This version of her was something else entirely. Something almost evil. And yet, fuck…undeniably sexy in a way that made his stomach twist and his cock throb against the zipper of his jeans despite the terror crawling up his spine.

Gone was the tailored navy suit. In its place: a black latex corset that cinched her waist to an impossible hourglass, the glossy material squeezing her massive F-cup tits together until they threatened to spill over the top. Deep, obscene cleavage that rose and fell with every controlled breath. Below that, nothing but a shiny black thong, thin enough to be a suggestion rather than underwear, wedged so deep between her firm, round ass cheeks that the straps disappeared completely. Matching knee-high boots hugged her long legs, the heels long and pointy. One of those boots was currently planted square on Jaden’s chest, pinning him to the cold library carpet with just enough weight to make breathing a conscious effort.

She smirked down at him, a slow, predatory curl of her full lips that he’d never seen on her face in his life. Her jet-black hair, usually scraped into a severe bun, now fell in soft, deliberate curls that framed her smoky gray eyes and high cheekbones. Something that made Jaden feel small and exposed and stupidly hard all at once.

Without a word she reached down, long fingers wrapping around his throat, firm enough to remind him who was in control. She yanked him up like he weighed nothing, dragging him to his feet. Jaden stumbled, legs shaky, trying to twist free, but her grip was like iron.

She kicked the door open with one booted heel and hauled him inside the Mother’s Comic Book Club room like a disobedient pet.