Toilet Break

Phil’s bladder finally won.

He pulled out of Claire with a wet sound, both of them still shaking. A thick trickle of his cum followed, running down her thighs around the glass toy that Gloria had left buried inside her. Claire whimpered at the sudden emptiness. Gloria only smiled, already taking his place behind her.

“Go,” Gloria said, giving Claire’s ass another firm squeeze. “I’ll keep her warm. Don’t be long.”

Phil yanked his jeans up, didn’t bother with the button, and slipped out of the bedroom. The hallway was quiet. He headed straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall, mind still half downstairs with the sounds Cam and Mitchell had been making and half back in the room with the image of Claire tied and dripping.

He pushed the bathroom door open -

- and walked straight into Alex.

She was standing at the sink in an oversized sweatshirt and shorts, hair in a messy bun, brushing her teeth like it was any other night. She froze mid-brush when she saw him. Phil froze harder.

For a second neither of them spoke.

Alex spit, rinsed, and raised one unimpressed eyebrow. “Dad. You’re not wearing a shirt. And your pants are undone. And you look like you just ran a marathon through a hurricane.”

Phil’s brain short-circuited. He had completely forgotten she was even in the house. She was supposed to be at college. Or the library. Or literally anywhere else.

“Alex. Hi. You’re… home.”

“I got back an hour ago. Side door. You guys were all in the living room being weird so I just came upstairs.” She looked him up and down again, expression flat. “Why do you look like that? And why is there a very distinct buzzing sound coming from your bedroom?”

From behind the closed master bedroom door, Claire let out a sudden, muffled cry. Gloria’s low, filthy Spanish followed - too quiet to make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable.

Alex’s other eyebrow joined the first. “Okay. Wow. I’m going to bleach my brain now.”

Phil opened his mouth. Nothing useful came out. He settled for yanking his jeans the rest of the way closed and trying to look like a functional parent.

Alex held up a hand. “I don’t want details. I don’t want context. I am going to my room, putting on noise-canceling headphones, and pretending the rest of this house does not exist. If anyone knocks on my door I am climbing out the window.”

She brushed past him, still visibly disturbed, and disappeared into her bedroom. The door shut with a decisive click. A second later the low thump of bass-heavy music started up as a clear sonic barrier.

Phil stood alone in the hallway, heart hammering for an entirely new reason.

Behind the master bedroom door, Gloria’s voice rose again - smooth, commanding - and Claire answered with another helpless, pleasure-soaked sound.